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

[Romul Saxon]

W A R M A S T E R
Abregado-Rae

IRON TOMB​

Allies: Tytos Saxon | Gel Karn | Yuri Maji | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Feydrik Munin | Siv Dragr | Kamon Hourn | Vreegan Fett
ENGAGING: Darth Strosius
Adjacent: Madrona A’Mia | Arris Windrun | Vestra Tane | Lily Rhodes

"RAGH!" Romul roared as the Old Boar threw the entirety of his strength into finishing the blow. Upward swung the hammer to meet the Sith's fell hand, and had it not been compromised, perhaps the raw vigor would have been enough to sever the limb altogether; but the metal had been fractured by dark arts beyond Romul's knowledge. As it collided with the Dark Lord, the splintered with a resounding crack before entirely shattering. The jarring shock of impact traveled up Romul's arm; with a grunt of surprise and pain, he dropped the now-useless shaft. Beskar. . . shattered? Understanding dawned upon the warrior's mind, bitter and clear as he remembered the Sith's dark miasma that had impacted with the hammer.

Yet no respite was granted to ponder his weapon's ruin as a burst of energy caught him full upon the breastplate, forcing him several steps backwards. "Heh," the Old Boar heaved mightily, exerting himself to stay upright. The Sith lunged forward with its lightsaber, a strike born of distance too great to land -- yet Romul's eyes saw the same shearing darkness as before now slithering down the Sith's arm and past the crimson plasma blade. Not keen to be the victim of the same trick twice, the veteran deftly sidestepped the shearing shadows, plunging past him a quarter-centimeter from where he'd stood. In the same breath, he drew the same cryoban blaster Gallius had entrusted him with before the ambush, put it at his hip, and squeezed the trigger all in one fluid motion. A torrential storm of cryogenic bolts, wintry-blue, assailed the Sith from close range.

Sensing his master's peril, Tusk let out a terrible roar from behind, the deep tremble of its reactor core thundering like a waking beast. The mechanical beast soared into the blizzard-struck sky as a host of Sith, dead and not yet, charged the battlefield. Then its roar became one of flame as its cannons and heavy ordnance thundered as one, a deluge akin to dragonfire unleashed upon the charging horde.

Gallius Saxon and the front lines of Mandalorians and Gados had reached the center at last, where the grim climax of the day seemed poised to see the Sith swallowed by the ice and snow. "FOR MANDALORE!" and "FOR KESTRI!" the Mandalorians cried, their voices ringing like horn-calls above the din as their blasters and rockets all echoed as one chorus, while the Gados raised a chittering harmony of ancient oaths exlaimed in their native tongue, oaths of vengeance and death for their home.

Warfleet
Helix | Astra Sadow | Ceria Kesyk | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Yuri Maji​

All hands on deck stood fast and marvelled; impossibly, not only did the tank targeted below weather the storm thrown at it, but several shots echoed back as if they were reflected from a mirror of dark glass. Impossibility was common on fateful days such as these, and, much less inclined to shrink before opposition, the Mandalorian commanders relished the opportunity to play with their prey. An opponent that did not back down so easily was made worthy in their eyes.

The Kestri Cyare and Ramorla had registered some damage, but nothing critical. The reflected fire, which had been overwhelming for a tank of its size, was nothing compared to the defensive systems of the behemoth Star Destroyers; moreover, much of its original power had been lost to physical depreciation once reflected.

The Star Destroyers continued inexorably bearing down on its target from above; except instead of firing in front of the tank, it opened up with fire in front and around it, intending to cleave the earth about with its celestial wrath to immobilize the tank; not through direct damage, but environmental. All strategy warranted experimentation when the enemy denied basic reality. Powerful entropic webifiers, a quartet from either ship, sought to kill the tank's inertia and movement altogether. At the same time, one of the Star Destroyer's tractor beams locked onto the tank, providing maximum reactor power to lift it, defying gravity itself.

Meanwhile, the ion cannon barked back at the harbingers of death that hovered high above, damaged but operational. The cannon was a considerable threat; the Cuyanir was a stroke away from becoming totally disabled, the heavy assault cruisers lower in the atmosphere where they held sway. Another precision strike from the Star Destroyers was ordered upon the ion cannon, this time to hopefully render the cannon nothing more than a smoking crater.

Shots were coming down now from the massive Sith dreadnought too, though Romul's fleet did little more than tactical maneuvering and standard defensive procedures. Mandalorian vessels were beyond state-of-the-line, especially the feared Ha'rangir dreadnoughts themselves. And as the Mythos Fleet above, commanded by the Hammer-hand and reinforced by Maji's fleet, continued to overwhelm the Sith, not much could feasibly be thrown towards the Saxon fleet below.

Evacuation Fleet​

The slaughter of the fleeing civilian vessels from the city continued. Hope remained, as it always does in the darkest moments, but the rampant death was but one more testament on a ledger eons long of the barbarism of the Sith.

Romul's evacuation fleet, on the other hand, bore the majority of the refugees of Le Yer and the metropolis. Not as much as he would have wanted to save, but as much as he could've. The strange, quiet lingering of the Sith was tactically perplexing, yet perhaps an objective eye would not entirely give them fault. When bloodthirsty Mandalorians surrounded you, there was little more to do than fight and pray for a Sith end.

The fleet entered into lower orbit, crossing the planet's atmospheric threshold and ascending into the heavens beyond. Some ships smoked from wounds incurred by last-ditch efforts to halt their progress; still, many more vessels were strong. Even the vode aboard remained silent, acutely aware of the slaughter of their brethren back onworld. Every single Mandalorian would give everything if it meant dying for their vode; but today, the mission required that they live.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

• x5 Ha'rangir-class Star Destroyers
  • Gra'tua Dral - Flagship
  • Haran
  • Kalden
  • Kestri Cyare
  • Ramorla
• x2 Dalab-class Strike Carriers
  • Havey'ir
  • Aay'han
• Ka'yatr-class Suppressive Cruiser
  • Akior
• x5 Brokur-class Heavy Assault Cruisers
  • Stri'liir
  • Sur'ar
  • Aarikir
  • Cuyanir
  • Mavan
• Aranar-class Escort Frigates
  • Numerous, mainly used as transports for civilians.
• Ram'or-class Corvettes
  • Numerous, mainly used as transports for civilians.

 

[Siv Dragr]

G U N S L I N G E R
Abregado-Rae

LOOK WITHIN
​

Allies: Kamon Hourn | Yuri Maji | Vreegan Fett
Targeting: Now just Quinn Varanin

Right before impact, two thermal signatures simply vanished into thin air. Whistling birds streaked through the blizzard before blooming in colors of yellow and orange, small beacons muffled by the snow. There was only one. Abandoned? The Echani. Quinn Varanin, to whom he'd sworn he'd kill should their paths cross once more. Good, Siv sneered, and leveled his weapon, barrel settling on the bright flare of her thermal signature.

Suddenly, as if a flash, the blizzard froze around him, heavy sleet of snow stopping in an instant. Hundreds of fragments surrounded him like a sphere, and he could see them elongating, growing, gleaming as layer after layer of ice formed around them. Eyes turned downwards to the Echani where keen sight revealed the spear she held in one hand. A mind, sharp with clarity from hatred-fueled adrenaline, perceived many threats at once. Had Siv not walked the delicate line of life and death before, perhaps fear would have finally caught him; but now he welcomed the chance of death like a friend.

There was no moment to think. The spear launched towards him. Ice closed in all around him. Siv inhaled and --

cut the power to his jetpack.

Gravity instantly responded to reclaim the once-airborne Mandalorian, and in an instant his body plunged downwards. He was not very high, perhaps ten meters or a little more, and the descent was swift. Curling tight into a ball, he smashed through the lower portion of the sphere of fragments waiting to impale him. Ice and spear all converged on the same empty spot and collided together in empty air, the fragments bursting into a brilliant shower of glittering dust that sparkled like diamonds as it rained harmlessly from above. Siv hit the ground hard, grunting and rolling. The Echani was in front of him; how close? Perhaps a couple of meters away?

The hate that Quinn exuded for his kind was ironic because it parodied Siv's own hatred for hers. The Sith and their ilk had massacred his home, turning Mandalore to ash and stone and killing everyone he knew and loved, back when he had loved. That devastation had irrevocably changed the teenage boy; but could he fault her, who was but a babe? In the same vein, the Mandalorians who had razed Eshan Siv did not know, nor had he been capable of participating with them, having been a child himself.

Two woven in tangles of hatred spawned by acts for which neither was guilty. The cruel nature of fate, of peoples, of history, that the galaxy was all but indifferent to.

One knee bent downwards, Siv raised the slugthrower at the hip, fanning the hammer and emptying the full cylinder of slugs at the Sith. He was only faintly aware of the sound of a heavy vehicle moving fast, approaching the Echani from behind.

 

[Korar Murrak]

Vod: Braze
Enemies: Naamino Zuukamano Varin Mortifer

Korar saw the necklace get crushed by Naamino Zuukamano then fly into Braze's hand. Luckily it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened, at least it couldn't be used agaisnt Braze. He'd have to apologize later for letting it get broken.

Before he could really register what had happened, the building was hit by a stray shot and the duracrete beneath him cracked before giving way. Unlike the other two Korar had no fancy trick and thus had little time to react, same as Kovita behind him. The landing was not as pleasant as Naamino's landing or as controlled as Braze's fall.

Korar landed hard on his back, pain shooting through his body. Luckily his size, build, and armor saved him from what could have been a lot worse pain. As he laid there stunned for a moment debris fell on top of him, not fully pinning him, but enough to force him to push it off with his right arm, which sparked a couple times under the strain, damaged but not close failing.

He immediately looked to where Kovita should be, finding her there he saw her half buried in rubble. Korar knew her well enough to know she could get out on her own quickly enough. The next thing he looked for was the sith, finding him currently in a worse state Korar looked for earthshaker next. Finding it only a few feet from him he picked it up in his left hand, but that's not what got his attention.

What did was a large flat slab of duracrete, about 90kg. A good weapon. Grabbing the edge with his prosthetic and lifting it, his arm sparking yet again, dust falling off of the piece of what was once a floor. Twisting his body and pulling the slab with him it scraped across the ground before it lifted in the air. Aiming for the sith's midsection and waist to not hit his vod who was falling above, Korar let it fly. The slab flew forward, spinning through the air, any smaller bit of debris that was on top now being spun off of it.

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

BYOO
The Mark Of The Dark
​

Theme: I'm Noboby
TAGS: OPEN

myrkrit skal heimta þenna heim

etinn af ormasótt

grafinn til fúa

þá spillir

til myrkrs at gleypa

vér gefum blóð vár

til svelgingar þessa heims​

Daggers raised, ready to make the sacrifice to one the true eternal constant. The diminutive figure began to outstretch her arms before the congregation that knelled before her. Her bare palms up towards the heavens. But she was not opening her arms to the heavens but to the void beyond it. As the voices chanted, invoking the name of the dark the entropy from which all life had come and would all return to in time.

As her arms outstretched and her palms reached to the void beyond the burning and freezing heavens above a violet ichor began swirl and swarm around her body. Then her head rose up revealing her orange eyes that burned with the fires of creation. As the worms on the ground began squirming their way toward her feet.

"Ci asdanetr res tozu het res Gȃyita Ameeno, Res Ameeno het I'shuree slaret, I'shuree anfityitfae. Ci mul taohlih ti imilu het ama kosta I'shar tozu. Silkinal shuree res kaiken het asamkla."

The amulet around the diminutive figures neck began to glow as souls of the dead and dying began to flow into it. Consumed in its violet up and offered up to the fanged God to grant her the power of Metamorphosis.

"Ni atbuha gai be Kad Ha'rangir, naastar Dir. shukur be wihtr bal arasuum. Rala ni cuyir gar haa'it be darasuum akaan bal naastar be gar adiik meg ganar echoy'la etie miai. At gar Ni gurire! oyar'e bu'ctihyr bal a oyar'u yasivr gurcter."

Her orange eyes flared even as she invoked the name of the Mandalorian God that she had adopted the philosophy of long ago in times before this mortal form. She who had never wavered from the way the true way of the dark. The one who would bring about the end of all. In return all she asked for this devotion was vision to guide her way and dominate it.

"ek kalla á frummyrkrit þat, er fœddi þenna veruleika ok þat er hann mun eyða. gef mér aldr eilífðar því at, þú gef ek líf þeira er þér hafa ætíð þjónat. faðma þá tak þar blóð sem blót"

Her eyes peered up at the fluid sky of fire and ice, she stared right through it. Past the clouds, past the sun of Abregado-rae, past the field of stars, past the void beyond, and into the fires of entropy's creation. As the dark bathed over her in shadow.

"Only power is real, and the only real power is the power to destroy. Existence is fleeting. Destruction is 'eternal."

As she said it the ten robed figures stopped chanting and thrust their daggers deep into their chests. Their bodies falling to the ground in heaps, as blood flowed into the crack grounds, streams moving towards the worms now at the diminutive figure's feet. Their bodies be consumed in into the Aether and their souls going to the fanged god. The Ichor that swirled around Tamsin body began to spread out and flow into the worms and they began to transform, age to maturity, and she could feel it all as it began to happen.

The worms and Plague inside them were beginning to meld into one creating a new life form, and they were beginning to grow and mature at a rapid rate.

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Outfit
Belt of Strength, Field Com-Scan Link,
Weal & Woe
Kor'ethyr Issued Kainate Trooper Armor
Armor Permissions

Ally: Varin Mortifer
Opponents: Braze & Korar Murrak

One moment he was getting his bearings, the next he was bowled over by the little beskar warlock.

"Oof" Naami grunted as they tumbled back down amongst the still settling rubble.

Though not ideal, it did save the zabrak from taking a direct hit from a chit ton of duracrete. The huge slab arced over the tumbling pair and landed with yet another brutal crash. For his part, Naami was still pretty dazed from the partial demolition of the building but training kicked in and it seemed he'd be taking the fight back to basics.

Ignati’s rage and fury traveled through the tendrils of the weave and telepathic link attached to each being. A ferocious fury gifted upon them. The fear of death wiped clean, emotions of fear and anxiety stripped of the mind and replaced with that of a lust for war. The God of Conquest has called upon His people, and gifted them a mighty boon of battle hardiness and ferocity. A command to spill blood and shower chaos among those that were their enemies.

Preternatural rage flooded the zabrak's veins and the already incensed warrior roared his defiance amidst the clatter of still falling pieces of building. As he rolled, Naami made to throw a large leg about his opponent and aimed to heel hook. Though his armor was battered and dented, environmental systems were down and his opposite knee still felt a bit stiff in the joint, Naamino was hoping to crank his opponent's leg into an uncomfortable hold. It could buy him a moment wherein his other opponent would think twice before hurling another slab or worse, his hammer.

 

[Pax Velloran]

WESTERN LANDING GALLERIES
ABREGADO-RAE SPACEPORT | Astra Sadow | Open to Tags

Mandalorians occupying the control tower changed the calculation considerably. Pax looked toward the distant structure for little more than a second before abandoning the idea. He needed a record, not a firefight.

"That may solve the second problem."

Assuming they still had a ship by the time the first was dealt with. The brown-haired man's question was the more useful one.

"What I actually need?"

Pax reached beneath his coat and produced the datapad.

"One departure packet."

He angled the display toward them long enough to show the vessel identifier.

"The Far Wanderer. It cleared this berth eleven minutes early. I need its departure authorization."

His thumb moved once across the screen.

"I don't need the tower to tell me where it went. I need to know what told the tower it was allowed to leave."

Pax glanced toward the interior of the hangar. Control wouldn't be the only place the departure had been recorded. A port this size would keep local traffic data somewhere around the berth, even if central operations had been diverted elsewhere.

"Berth operations should have cached it locally. Maintenance, traffic relay, a service console... Anything tied into the docking system."

He looked back to the officers.

"I need the authorization attached to that departure and the terminal that sent it. Nothing more."

The nearest patch of red was closer than it had been when the conversation started. That seemed sufficient argument against wasting more time.

"If there's an auxiliary panel in this hangar, I'd rather use that than cross half the spaceport to discover the Mandalorians have developed strong opinions about archival access. And if your credentials can open it, this becomes considerably faster."

The low-altitude route had merit. If they made it back to the shuttle, they could worry about the rest from the cockpit.

"If we can pull the record, we leave immediately."

His eyes settled briefly on the red staining the far reaches of the hangar before returning to them.

"Low and long, as you suggested."

Pax adjusted the fall of his coat over the datapad and started toward the nearest bank of auxiliary systems.

His gaze moved toward the service stations lining the hangar, then back to the pair.

"If there's one nearby, lead the way."

 

[Casimir Thorne]

WEARING: xxx | WEAPON: x | x | ALLIES: Efret Farr​

For one terrible moment, Casimir remained caught between two worlds. The Netherworld pulled at him with a promise it had never actually made. There was no certainty Kaelis waited beyond the wound torn through reality, no familiar presence reaching for him through the Force, and nothing to suggest that twenty years of searching would finally end if he crossed that threshold. There was only possibility, but Casimir had built nearly half his life around considerably less.

Twenty years.

He had followed every rumor, every relic, every whisper that might lead him back to his sister. He had crossed the galaxy chasing trails others would have abandoned long ago because somewhere beneath all the disappointment remained the stubborn conviction that Kaelis could still be found. Casimir had always believed that if a door finally opened, nothing would stop him from walking through it.

Now one had.

Then Efret screamed.

"No!"

Casimir looked at her. The voice came from the enchanted necklace at her throat rather than Efret herself, but the desperation behind it belonged entirely to her. She knew. Somehow, Efret understood exactly where his thoughts had gone and what the Netherworld represented to him. She was not merely warning Casimir about the danger. She was asking him not to leave her for whatever possibility waited beyond the veil.

Then the glowing tendrils erupted from the pendant and plunged into her neck.

Casimir's gaze snapped toward them before returning to Efret's face. The Netherworld remained there at the edge of his perception, immense and terrible, offering him the first place in twenty years he had not searched for Kaelis. If he turned away now, the opening might close. There might never be another. His sister could be somewhere beyond it, waiting for the brother who had promised himself he would never stop looking.

Efret was here.

Casimir looked toward the rupture one last time.

"I'm sorry, Kaelis."

He turned away.

The pain of it settled somewhere deeper than anything the battlefield could inflict. Casimir did not know whether he had just surrendered his best chance of finding his sister. He only knew that he could not answer one loss by choosing another. Efret had reached for him moments earlier because she could go no farther, and now she was asking him not to disappear somewhere she could not follow.

Casimir chose her.

Only then did the battlefield rush back into focus.

Something changed in his perception as Vreegan descended through the smoke with his rifle braced firmly against his shoulder. Casimir caught the adjustment of the barrel and the minute shift of armored weight that preceded the shot. The Echani did not need to know precisely what Vreegan had loaded into the weapon to recognize the language of a man committing himself to an attack.

The first concussion blast tore through the air, and Casimir moved.

The Force flooded his body as he crossed the distance toward Efret with speed that made everything else seem almost motionless. His crimson saber extinguished as he reached her, one arm sweeping around her waist while the other caught her near the shoulder. Casimir planted his foot and drove them laterally with every ounce of Force-enhanced momentum he could summon just as the ground where they had been standing erupted.

There was no flame this time. The concussion struck the earth with enough violence to pulverize stone and collapse the dirt beneath it. Casimir felt the pressure wave catch them before he could carry Efret completely clear, his grip tightening as the impact lifted his feet from beneath him and sent him hard across the ruined ground. He twisted as they fell, taking the impact across his shoulder and back before momentum finally tore them apart.

Pain shot through his ribs as Casimir rolled through the dirt, and the ringing in his ears briefly swallowed everything else. Another blast hammered into the ground nearby, throwing another cloud of pulverized earth across the ritual grounds as he forced himself onto one knee.

His eyes found Efret first.

Casimir moved toward her and reached for her hand. His fingers closed around hers only long enough for his thumb to press deliberately into her palm, followed by a short movement of his fingers that belonged to the language they had made their own.

I'm here.

The message meant more now than reassurance. Efret had asked him to stay, and this was his answer.

His gaze lingered on hers for a heartbeat before Casimir stood. The crimson blade of his lightsaber returned as he faced the Mandalorian descending through the smoke, placing his back firmly toward the Netherworld and everything it might contain.

Vreegan had attacked them twice now. The first barrage had torn through Efret's robes and skin, and the second had come while she was already being punished by whatever cursed thing hung around her throat. Whatever chance Casimir had just surrendered because he refused to leave Efret behind, this Mandalorian had nearly made the choice meaningless anyway.

Amber eyes narrowed as Casimir studied him.

The Echani had been watching Vreegan since the first rockets fell, and every movement had added something to Casimir's understanding of the man. Jetpack corrections kept the Mandalorian beyond easy reach while allowing him to attack from above. The rifle remained tight against his shoulder when he fired, while his descent had been deliberate enough to sacrifice altitude for a clearer firing solution without surrendering the advantage of flight.

Every attack had told Casimir something, and that was the mistake people made when fighting an Echani. They thought combat began when the first blow landed. For Casimir, it began when an opponent first moved.

He stepped away from Efret, deliberately opening the distance between them. If Vreegan wanted another clean shot at her, the Mandalorian would have to choose between maintaining his attention on Casimir or dividing it. Casimir raised his saber but did not charge. Instead, he reached into the Force and seized a broken slab of duracrete from the crater Vreegan's own weapon had torn into the ground.

The debris ripped free and hurtled upward, not toward Vreegan himself, but across the line of his rifle. Casimir moved with it, accelerating beneath the improvised obstruction while keeping his crimson blade close rather than sweeping uselessly at an opponent still beyond reach. Another piece of shattered stone followed the first as dirt ripped upward from the ruined battlefield, creating interference rather than attempting to overwhelm the armored warrior outright.

None of it was intended to defeat Vreegan. Casimir only needed to interfere with his sightline long enough to force the Mandalorian to adjust, because Casimir was already watching for that adjustment. The angle of the rifle, the correction of the jetpack, and the shift of Vreegan's shoulders would tell the Echani where his opponent intended to be afterward.

Casimir intended to meet him there.

The Netherworld remained open behind him, its presence impossible to shut entirely from his awareness. He had no idea how long the doorway would remain or whether another would ever appear. Somewhere beyond it, Kaelis might finally have been within his reach.

Casimir drove forward through the smoke toward Vreegan.

He did not look back.

 

[Anet Raine]

Calyx Sundrift | Varin Mortifer | Naamino Zuukamano | Braze | Korar Murrak | Feydrik Munin | Helix | Darth Carnifex | Allyson Locke | Naniti
Robes | Mask | Lightsaber​

Gloating before one has cinched a victory is unbecoming of a prospective Knight.
Mind yourself, girl.​

Anet clenched her fist at her Master’s warning. It stung.

How was this not victory?! She looked around. So much was burning. Even the icy winds struggled to do much against chemical fires. Explosion after explosion continued, burning out factories, destroying piping, sending molten slag high into the air before it came crashing back down.

Word entered her ear when her comms lit up again.

The Sith forces were engaging in a full tactical retreat, withdrawing to a high ground position elsewhere within the urban sprawl. Still, there was so much fighting. Pockets of resistance met by pockets of force. Embers and plague spores fell all around them. A basilisk droid latched onto a TIE like a falcon snatching its unaware prey. Only for a second TIE to fire its missiles - deciding to end both.

Anet wanted to show that she was more than a saboteur. That she could be a killer, and contribute to the end of many Mandalorians.

She watched as Sith ghosts poured through the burning streets. Lords and Masters of old, Dark Side spirits. As a scholar, she wondered if there were any great kings or Dark Lords among them. Would she recognize them? Was there something left to be learned?

But A’Mia’s words came back to her.

The point was not to win a pitched battle. It was to destroy this world’s industry. To rob the Kestrans of industrial support; of a staging ground to supply their armada. If the Sith Covenant had their way on Abregado-rae, the Mythic Fleet would lose ships, people, arms, and supplies. And a convenient means of replacing them. It would make whatever happened next… whether it was last-ditched aggression, or attrition war, a matter of material deficit for the Mandalorians.

So, begrudgingly, she turned to Calyx - who, despite having a crisis, would earn no empathy from Anet.

“Come on,” she groaned bitterly. “We’re not far from where we need to be, but the flames will take us if we delay any longer.”

She could teleport them, but figured it would be wise to save her strength. Never knew if the enemy had one more surprise up their sleeves.

The Sith turned and jogged along the rooftop, hopping from one building to the next, tip-toeing around collapsing infrastructure, and avoiding shooting spouts of chemical-fueled fire.

 

[Astra Sadow]

"A departure packet?" The man leaned in to look at the datapad concerning what ship of clarity could be gleaned there. Evidently, the man Pax Velloran wasn't looking for clearance of his own ship, but of another already departed? There were only a few reasons for that, and they all boiled down to not wanting to be on record as having left (and presumably not having arrived earlier). Smacked of illicit activity.

Looks were exchanged, but neither showed indignation for either to make a fuss yet. Why would someone be engaging in illegal activity in the middle of this nightmare on repulsors? Pax was either a certifiably great thief, or mad as a hatter.

Pax's attention turned out toward the glowing embers, but where he seemed calm, they were... apprehensive. Kaelyr 's glow was uncomfortably bright and near. Not to mention the damn heat was starting to... Wait, weren't there reports about the plague using heat to spread faster? Was someone deliberately trying to hasten the End? They weren't explosions, and if it was a fire raging out of control there'd have been reports and a response organized, so this was deliberate and not from enemy fire. Mad as a Sith.

"Yeah..."

The blue-eyed smith caught the arm of the brown-haired partner with a look.

As his mouth opened to reply to the unstated thought, however, another barrage from above rained down on the spaceport ( Romul Saxon ). The oaths of terror were drowned out by the planet-shaking horror revisited a second time. That wasn't literally next door, but when that much bombardment happened in under half a mile from you distance had a maddening way of compressing perceptually.

Both of them had staggered and then crouched to try and keep their footing under the assault. Thankfully it wouldn't last for long -- again -- but it begged one hell of a question.

"C-- Chandrilan Command, this is Foxtrot Two," he glanced at the blue-eyed man, but this time there wasn't any overt moved to stop him, "requesting clearance for a ship at our present location to lift off. In support of... forces at Site Alpha. Over." ( Leontis Antalis ) Well, if they claimed the ship was headed for the source of the plague to support them against Mandalorian incursion, who would complain? People with a death wish were welcome on Abregado-rae evidently.