Invasion Great Balls of Fire | Agents of Chaos invasion of CIS-held Rodia and Talay

[Kiff Brayde]

T A L A Y​

Objective: Turn the Agents of Chaos into Space Dust
Location: Talay System
Allied Tag: John Locke | Visanj T'shkali | Darth Metus | Cypher Rage
Terrorist Tag: Dimitri Lindzinsky | Willam Forlon | Bella | Salem Norongachi
Theme: x

The roar of battle thundered around the Victator as starfighters and starships swirled in a deadly dance of energy and light. The battle was no longer a carefully-calculated game of Dejarik; it was now total war, a fight for survival between two titanic forces with a destructive power on an unimaginable magnitude. The stakes here were real, and they were high. No amount of jokes, no amount of games, could trivialize the importance of this moment.

What happened now would have dire repercussions for the Confederacy, if not the entire galaxy. What happened here, above this insignificant water world, could change the course of the future for better or worse.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on Kiff. He was not the type to shirk responsibility, but he was also not the archetypal, honorable warrior that most men and women of his rank were. Kiff had always tried to look at the brighter side of life, to find a light in the extreme darkness that was war, to approach even the most mundane and tested situations with a new and untried unorthodox approach. The consequences, should Kiff fail at his one mission to protect the Confederacy, no matter the cost, would be too great.

But if Kiff did nothing, the terrorists would still leave the battlefield victorious.

As much as he was a High Marshal, he was also a gambler and Sabacc savant; he spent as much time in the casino as he did aboard the bridge of a battlecruiser, and he'd learned that there was more than one way to beat your opponent without having an advantage in numbers or size. And like any true master player, Kiff always knew to keep an extra card up his sleeve. Just in case.

Vulture Droids and terrorist interceptors dove and weaved past the transparisteel viewports of the Victator's bridge. Burnt shells were all that remained of the rear terrorist fleet, yet their interceptors had proven to be a little more resilient than the capital ships that had carried them to Talay. The occasional burst of enemy laser fire rocked the bridge as the deflector shields of the massive battlecruiser absorbed the blast, but apart from that Kiff's fleet was virtually unscathed. Although the remaining interceptors and spheres were a nuisance, the point defense of the flak frigates and Grievous-class Star Destroyers was extracting a heavy toll on the remaining terrorist starfighters.

"Kiff." It was Verryk again. Since the Sabacc game, Kiff hadn't talked to his senior comms officer as much as Jol -- an unfortunate reality of the separation of their roles. Verryk had an entire communications system to manage, while Kiff and Jol's minds were to be present in the situation at hand. But that separation didn't stop Verryk from informally addressing the High Marshal. And Kiff didn't mind, because they were friends. "There's an incoming message from the Exarch again. You. . . might want to see this," Verryk continued, hesitating at his last sentence.

"What is it this time?" Kiff wondered out loud to himself as he made his way over to the comm station quickly, dodging aides and droids as he navigated from the command center to Verry's station. Despite Kiff's outward appearance of nonchalance, he knew that every second counted. Any and every moment wasted was a small victory for their enemy.

"I think you better just listen to what he has to say," Verryk said before thumbing a button. The visual on the console's monitor changed as it began playing the recorded message that the Exarch had sent to the rest of the Confederacy's fleet.

“All commanders, it looks like that battlecruiser’s just going to absorb everything we can throw at it without scratching the paintwork. It looks like we’re going to need to try something different to get through it. High Marshal Brayde, maneuver independently, and see if you can threaten his rear. Minister T'shkali, please pull. . ." the message continued to play, but by that point, Kiff was no longer paying attention to what the Exarch was saying. By battlecruiser, Kiff knew that Locke meant the flagship of the main terrorist fleet.

Kiff whipped around immediately, turning to face where Jol stood, hunched over at the datatable in the center of battle command. "Jol," Kiff shouted over the noise of the active bridge, "Where's our data from the test-fire?"

Jol looked like he was about to speak, but then decided against it and motioned for Kiff to make his way back to where Jol stood Once Kiff arrived, he put his hands up apologetically. "Sorry about that. At my age, I don't think it's really good for my lungs to be shouting over that kind of commotion."

"Don't worry about it," Kiff waved his apology aside. "Were we able to probe the defenses of their flagship?"

Jol's whiskers drooped in a serious frown as he turned to the datatable and began keying numbers and letters into the monitor, bringing up an array of very complicated diagrams. Kiff didn't have the time or technical know-how to decipher them, but fortunately, Jol was happy to translate the technical readouts. "We were able to obtain data from the test fire, but none of it is very good. The Exarch is right -- that ship is one tough nut, and so far we haven't been able to identify any exploitable weaknesses. Not that our cannons would be able to do much damage from this distance, anyhow."

Kiff frowned, waving away the charts and diagrams to bring up the real-time feed of the fleets as they battled above Talay, folding his arms in front of his chest as he mused over his options. "The Exarch wants us to maneuver behind the flagship, but with our speed and maneuverability I don't think we could make it in time," Kiff thought out loud, Jol nodding along. "But if we were somehow able to get into broadside range, the sheer amount of damage might be enough to break its shields, or even cripple it."

Jol nodded in agreement, but his tone was full of reservation. "Even if it worked, High Marshal, how would we get the Victator into broadside range in time? By the time we accelerated to a speed fast enough, they would've had ample time to break through the Exarch's fleet and get planetside. We'll be too late."

"Not if we microjump," Kiff said, suddenly.

Jol's head turned in astonishment from the holofeed to look directly at Kiff. "High Marshal. . . the Victator isn't built for microjumping. It would literally tear the ship apart."

Kiff turned to look at Jol in return, his eyes filled with a stormy grey fire and a sudden resolve. "I know." He left Jol standing there as he walked from the command center to the fore of the bridge, shouting orders as he did so. "All personnel not associated with gunnery command, navigation, and any other non-essentials are to make their way to all port-side and aft escape pods and hangar bays. Navigation, prepare the Victator to microjump to broadside range of the Justice."

"Microjump? Kiff, are you out of your fething mind?" Verryk hissed as Kiff passed his station. Kiff turned on the spot and saw that the bridge had gone silent, everyone -- organics and droids -- looking at him in confusion, and in fear. They all knew that the massive Invictus-class battlecruiser was not built to perform such a precise maneuver, and yet their High Marshal was commanding them to do something that seemed suicidal.

"Listen," Kiff said, steel in his voice that had not been there before. "We are the last card up the sleeve. We are the last hope that the Confederacy has. If we fail -- if these terrorists break through our fleet and take Talay, if they win here and now -- it's all over. The Confederacy. Our lives. The lives of all the trillions of beings who call the Confederacy home. Everything we've ever fought for will be for naught. It won't matter if we escape with our lives, because we will have failed our duty to us and the Confederacy."

"Today we face an enemy like none before. Their ship's armor is seemingly impenetrable, and their firepower immense and terrible. But worse, they are crewed, each and every ship, from the tiniest Starfighter to the largest Star Destroyer, by terrorists who would see you and everyone you love all dead before they're through. They have murdered our friends, our brothers, our sisters, and gloried in the carnage of those we are entrusted to protect. They seek the destruction of everything we stand for, everything we have fought for day after day. They are relentless. They will not stop. If we do not beat them here, they will be back again, for more bloodshed and more violence."

"When I joined the Defense Force, I swore to defend the Confederacy to my dying breath. There may be a day when my brothers and sisters of the Confederate Defense Force falter. There may come a time when we fail, and this disease spreads over the galaxy like a plague. But today will not be that day. I'm prepared to lie down my life so that we may stop these terrorists here and now. I know it is a lot of me to ask, but I ask that you do the same nonetheless. Although our flames may go out today, the fire of the Confederacy will never stop burning."

He closed his speech with a cry that he had first uttered against the Golden Crusaders on Rugosa, now uttered softly, but with far more weight and emotion behind it.

"Glory to the victorious dead."

"Aye," came a voice, and Kiff turned to see Jol standing proudly. "Glory to the victorious dead."

"Glory to the victorious dead," Verryk repeated, his voice swelling with pride, honor, and duty. Others began to mutter the cry as well, standing up and giving their own proclamation of glory and sacrifice.

Then, like a sudden rush of a waterfall came a single cry in unison fro the rest of the bridge. "Glory to the victorious dead!" the Confederates exclaimed before moving to their stations with a new purpose and sense of duty. Jol slowly made his way to Kiff's side, putting a reassuring hand on Kiff's shoulder as the two looked out at the great starry beyond.

Then the stars faded to blue as the Victator accelerated into hyperspace one final time.

The reversion to realspace was even shorter this time, but all the more jarring. Klaxons blared and the ship was torn with seismic energy as the whirl of hyperspace was replaced by the massive frame of the terrorist flagship, the Justice. The bright white lights of the bridge went off before being replaced by red emergency lights, as a pre-programmed announcement blared over the ship's speaker systems. "The ship is internally compromised. All personnel is advised to evacuate immediately," repeated over and over again in the distance, but the non-essential personnel had already made their way to their escape pods, the bridge slowly clearing out as each officer finished their job before evacuating.

The reversion to realspace so close had done irreparable damage to the Victator, eliminating it's shield systems and doing a great amount of damage to the superstructure of the ship. Entire sections of the hull gave way to the immense amount of pressure and caved in or flew off as the internal bracing of the ship strained to hold the battlecruiser together. It had been suicidal, but Kiff's goal had been achieved -- they were now pointing directly at the Justice, close enough to be virtually at point-blank range.

The Victator's entire arsenal opened fire, pouring everything the massive battlecruiser had at the Justice even as entire batteries imploded on themselves from the damage they had taken from the microjump. Even then, the sheer amount of firepower from the Victator was insurmountable, unmatched by anything Kiff had ever seen.

But, as he slowly realized with a sinking heart, it just wasn't enough.

The broken holoprojectors were monitoring the damage output to Justice's shield and structure systems, and it just wasn't enough. The Victator would be destroyed itself well before it had any chance of destroying its opponent, and Kiff realized that they had only one option left.

Ramming the Justice.

And Kiff would have to be the one at the helm to make sure it kept on course.

Kiff turned around to see that the rest of the bridge had been evacuated -- Verryk was already gone, and only Jol stood. A quick glance at the subsystem notifications showed that all escape pods save a single pod next to the bridge had been evacuated, meaning that the rest of the crew had been safely evacuated well. "Jol, I think it's time for you to go. I need to do this." Kiff slowly realized that this was the end of the line for him. It would be his last greatest play, his final card trick. He closed his eyes as he slowly began to accelerate the ship, accepting his fate.

"No."

Kiff's eyes snapped open as he felt a warm hand on his, gently removing Kiff's hand from the acceleration controls of the battlecruiser. He looked in surprise to see Jol, still standing there, his gaze firm. "Jol? I told you to go. That's an order."

"I'm sorry, High Marshal. But you need to go. I'll handle it from here."

"What?" Kiff's voice raised higher in anger, in frustration. What was Jol doing? Why wouldn't he let Kiff make the sacrifice that needed to be made? "Jol. I can't -- this is my duty. My fate. I need to do this, you don't have to sacrifice yourself, you can still escape and leave, you can still live--"

"High Marshal. Kiff." Jol said, putting his wrinkled hand on Kiff's shoulder. "I am old. I have seen so many battles, watched so many that I love die, that I can't keep track anymore. My time has come."

"Jol, no. . . you can't." Kiff's voice began to crack from the emotion. Jol had been the closest thing that Kiff had ever had to a father; he'd been the guiding hand in Kiff's life ever since he'd left the Naval Academy on Arkanis. Kiff would give up his life for the Confederacy, but going on without Jol -- his constant companion, his closet friend -- he couldn't. That just wasn't possible.

"Kiff," Jol said softly, looking into the High Marshal's eyes, but Kiff couldn't return the gaze and looked away, afraid that he'd break down. Jol continued nonetheless. "You have a bright future ahead, and you are destined to enjoy peace after all you have done. My time has come, but yours has yet to."

"Kiff, you are going to come marching home."

Kiff looked one last time in his friends eyes before he suddenly grabbed him in a fierce hug. Jol returned it, hugging Kiff tightly in return. No words passed between them. There were no words needed to convey what they were feeling. Slowly, they broke off as the battlecruiser grew larger and larger in the viewport of the bridge. "Now," Jol said, pointing towards the remaining escape pod, "Go. I promise, when all of this is over, when everything is over and we meet again, we will finish our game of Sabacc."

Kiff silently obeyed and climbed into the escape pod, giving one last look at the man who had been the greatest father figure in his life. Jol stood now proud, his back straight and his clothing immaculate as ever, staring with resolution and resolve as the Victator began to accelerate faster and faster. It was the final glimpse that Kiff would have of his best friend before the hatch closed and the pod jettisoned into space.

As the escape pod tumbled away from the what remained of Kiff's flagship as it began to hurtle ever faster towards the Justice, the song that Jol had sung came to his head.

"Leaves, from the vine,

falling so slow.

Like tiny, fragile shells,

drifting in the foam."

The Victator had now closed the gap, and as the battlecruiser began to slowly implode and ram into the Justice, Kiff closed his eyes and turned away from the viewport of the escape pod. He refused to accept that the man who'd been a father to him was now dead. But even in the dead of space, the force of the collision rocked the tiny escape pod that the High Marshal now sat in, all alone.

A single tear rolled down Kiff's cheek.

The escape pod continued through the great expanse of stars.

"Little soldier boy,

come marching home.

Little soldier boy

comes marching home."

Spoiler: Fleet

• Flagship:
  • Invictus-class Battlecruiser
    • CNS Victator [Destroyed]
• 513th Heavy Attack Line:
  • x5 Grievous-class Star Destroyers
    • CNS Exigent [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Carrhae White [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Ikelos [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Apotheosis [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Iron Lord [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • x2 Argente-class Assault Cruisers
    • CNS Last Disciple [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Shadowrun [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • x4 Terrus-class Flak Frigates
    • CNS Akelia [38% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Forethought [Destroyed]
    • CNS Pedestal [0% Shields, 23% Structure]
    • CNS Rock Elder [Destroyed]
• 531st Carrier Line:
  • x1 Lucrehulk III-class Supercarrier
    • CNS Arkham Nights [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • x2 Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
    • CNS Silver Wings [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Destined Call [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • x4 Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
    • CNS Ormano [90% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Carrion [89% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Xalion [97% Shields, 100% Structure]
    • CNS Moondark [100% Shields, 100% Structure]

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• The Victator has microjumped to point-blank range of the Justice, unleashed its full arsenal, and is proceeding to ram the battlecruiser, destroying the Victator in the process.
• Remaining starfighter squadrons and ships from Dimitri's fleet have been destroyed or are being quickly taken care of.

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

Location: Rodia - Near the Factory
Tagging: Caedyn Arenais | Malerina Ka
Gear:

Spoiler

• Keravnos
• Fate's Dance
• Svalinn
• Nephil and Seraph
• 2 x Ianua Daggers
• Angel's Dance
• Claimoh Solais

There was a fluidity about fighting in tandem with someone you knew well, a kind of dance that you fell into. Even without using the force, without using up what precious little energy she had left Asaraa already knew how Caedyn was going to react to any situation.

There was no judgement, no condemnation in the Jedi’s face as she watched the elf reel back from her boyfriend’s lightsaber. Even in her exhaustion though she was unable to prevent the shock that plastered itself over her face as the elf sliced into her own arm, discarding the remnants of her arm. She’d never seen someone act with such casual disregard for their own body in a fight, be willing to apply the knife to their own body just to keep on fighting.

The young Jedi Master could see the glint of metal in the air as their opponent reversed the blade, the vibroknife cutting towards Caedyn’s body.

Asaraa wasn’t sure when the sight registered with her, by the time her brain had caught up with it she was already reacting, her shield clattering to the ground as she reached out to the force once more. Spending those last few embers of her power as she threw herself forward, both hands clasped around the hilt of her sword.

The blackness was already wrapping around her, narrowing her vision as she lifted the blade into the path of the vibroknife, her entire being focused on just one thing. Deflecting the blade. Nothing else mattered just stopping the blade from hitting Caedyn as she stumbled past. Darkness narrowing her vision as she fell to her knees, sword clattering to the ground from nerveless spent fingers.

The intent had been true, but exhaustion had proven too much for the pink-haired one. Not even the force could be treated as a be all and end all, not even the force could get you through everything. Fingers reached up slowly, touching the hilt of the vibroknife protruding from her shoulder…she’d stopped the attack, just not in the way that she’d imagined it.

Blue eyes started to glance back before they rolled up, shock and exhaustion finally catching up with Asaraa as she crumpled to the ground, bright red blood trickling down her pale skin.

He was safe…that’s all that mattered.

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Location: Iskaayuma, Rodia
Objective: Defend Rodia, Preserve CiS Space
Inventory: Knight-Errant Armor | Lightsaber
Allies: Asaraa Vaashe
Opposition: Malerina Ka

Caedyn's intent had been aimed for the Repeating Blaster Rifle their foe had been wielding. He had meant to cut the weapon into two halves, and yet through the motions of battle had instead taken half of Malerina Ka 's arm instead. It was not his first time drawing blood, yet the shock of the mistake and the foes alarming reaction, the will to severe what remained, caught the Jedi Knight by complete surprise.

Having gotten the jump upon the Sephi, he had positioned himself between she and Asaraa Vaashe , well within striking distance of the vibroknife that their foe savagely took to themselves before turning upon Caedyn. She was fast with the handling of the blade despite now being one-handed, and in retaliation she lunged at him, the Jedi Knight foolishly having halted his momentum in seeing her disarmed; now discovering that wasn't enough.

As Caedyn sought to avoid being struck by the knife, he fell backwards in a stumble as a flash of pink shot passed him through the empowerment of the Force, the exertion of energies distinctly Asaraa's own came with the alarming revelation in that she had nothing left to give. From the street-floor, Caedyn's eyes widened in horror as he watched his partner put herself in harms way, taking the blade to her shoulder where as it had been aimed at him.

The following seconds turned to minutes as he could sense Asaraa's strength caving, her legs unable to hold her up anymore and she collapsing under the weight of herself. As a Jedi Knight, he should have known the risks, yet he could not stop the anger that boiled up within him as Malerina Ka was left standing over his girlfriend, having struck the blow that crippled her.

The Lightsaber cluttered to the permacrete floor beside him as both hands summoned forth all the strength and will-power he could muster, his need to protect Asaraa and beat back their opposition fueling the power that came to him, channeling through his upper body and harnessed within his palms, unleashing a devastating wall of telekinetic force hurled directly at their opponent.

The windows of structures around them shattered inward, doors thrown open as the wave of power hit anything a meter off of the ground and threw it back. One of the already battered storefront walls collapsed and caved in on itself further behind them, yet all Caedyn was focused on was ridding them of the sight of their opposition by any means necessary, so that he might move to Asaraa's aid.

 

[Nighthaunter]

Location: Sewers, Weapons Factory District, Iskaayuma, Rodia
Objective: Find a suitable target for his blade and generally cause chaos and fear within the enemy.
Equipment: MK I Nightsuit, Willbreaker, Throwing stars, Silent Blades, Collapsible sniper rifle (Destroyed).
Allies Nearby: Daiya
Enemies: CIS ( Nyx N1X3 Safira Haran Tiria Reinhart )

“It was a mistake not to kill me first.” The words echoed in his ears as he stood before the last trooper. Through her helmet he could detect that it had a distinct feminine quality to it. The inherent threat in her voice was obvious and the sheer self belief in her own abilities. The Nighthaunter visibly winced as his right shoulder began to burn again from the blaster shot he had taken when clearing out the building he used as a sniper outpost. He had been running on adrenaline for a while now, the pain numbed by the constant moving and combat. But now standing in front of the trooper, his shoulder began to scream in pain.

The pain arced all the way down his sword arm making his arm shake slightly as he held his force imbued blade Willbreaker in front of him in a defensive stance. “Possibly but with you I would like to send a statement to your superiors about what happens to those pursuing me.” He said, grimacing slightly behind his mask, however his body remained strong as he faced his opponent. Truth be told he had been impressed with the Dauntless commandos resolve, and they had given him far more of a challenge than any other force on this planet.

He saw her step forwards suddenly knife in hand, Nighthaunter took a step backwards and instinctively swung for the head of his opponent with his humming blue kyber crystal infused sword. The voices from sword tormenting his thoughts, and begging for the blood of his enemies as he swung it through the air towards the troopers head.

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Location: Sewers, Weapons Factory District, Iskaayuma, Rodia
Callsign: Alpha Actual
Squad: Alpha Quad, 7 Dauntless Commandos
Equipment: Project Xiphos Armor | Modular Tri-Blaster | Micro Light Shield | Bayonet | Cryo Grenades | Fragmentation Grenades | Thermal Detonators | Comlink | Raxus Relief

Allied Command: Confederacy of Independent Systems
Hostile Command: Agents of Chaos

Her opponent reacted quickly. It might not seem like much, but it was more about Nighthaunter than she knew a moment ago. Hopefully, his reflexes weren't be enough to save him, however.

At this point, Tiria would just have to haul this man's head back to Haastal for a trophy. Perhaps when they found out this was the man responsible for killing the civilians, disfiguring them, and then putting them on display to sow terror among the civilians before the evacuation it'd get the Grand Marshal off her back for losing Daiya. Not that the Colonel liked that the 'little girl' had likely gotten away by this point. None of the men or women topside had said she'd popped back out, which meant she was staying low. Longer that went on, less likely two teams patrolling the streets could watch every way in or out of the sewers -- two teams, four directions. Yes, Commandos knew maths.

Not that Nighthaunter was going willingly. Tiria would somehow find it in herself not to cry over that.

The Commando's helmet drew back as the sword swept at it in response to the feint. A sharp rise of the phrik-lined knife rose to help deflect the sword and keep it moving along its arc away from her face. That was when her upper body leaned forward again and the armored woman moved to close the distance between them. If she could get inside his guard -- inside the much wider arc of his long weapon -- Tiria might be able to knock him against the wall, pin his sword-bearing arm, and jab her knife into the man's jugular just as he had her men.

Jedi and Sith flung glowing swords around in wide flourishes and taunting whirls. They lived in a different world than a soldier. Down here in the much, surrounded by the filth of the sewers, no one cared how gracefully you killed someone. No one cared about your 'technique.' You broke the enemy's defenses and you cut them down; that was all the more true when it came to holding a knife before a sword-bearing opponent. Reach was in Nighthaunter's favor, but mobility was hers.

Tag: Luna Terrik | Haastal Haran | Nighthaunter

 

[Draconis Sederius Wolf]

Location: SLDF Expeditionary High Command Center (located away from major cities)
Objective: Ruin the AoC's day
Tags: Madalena Antares Scherezade deWinter Larentia Safira Haran BX-72967-RAZOR Haastal Haran Shuklaar Kyrdol Domino Ishmael Verd Nighthaunter Nyx N1X3 Eldoc Quasat Typhan Berrezz Gerwald Lechner Sasmay Cull Daiya Théodoro

Spoiler: GEAR

Standard Confederate Battle Armor Overlay/Undersuit, M-47C, EBFAK, L-7 pistol, various (frag, concussion, SYC Smoke, Ion) grenades, satchel charges

Friendly forces: 1.3 Million SLDF Expeditionary Forces

​

Draconis had been leading his troops through the city and he noticed one thing as they kept pushing through. There was no one here. There wasn't anyone here. For all their talk of retaliation, for all their saber rattling they had done, there was no one here. Draconis had mustered the entire might of the SLDF Expeditionary Forces to respond to this threat. 1.3 million combat personnel, men and women at arms. They had helped evacuate the entirety of the people of Rodia, to take away the one thing that had held the SLDF back at Ryloth. They had prepared meticulously for this attack with the enemy saying they were "Going to make the CIS pay,". Then, when the cards were on the table, they brought nothing but a paltry force. There was no one here.

The Agents of Chaos were either arrogant enough to think that they could kill over 2.1 million combat troops, or foolish enough to think the SLDF, or even the CIS would bring their full might to bear on such a threat.

As Draconis kept walking through the streets he found no one. There wasn't a massive force here to take the planet from the CIS. There wasn't anything here that warranted more than a properly reinforced garrison to respond to. Let alone several armies. Draconis had brought enough forces to meet almost any army in the field of battle, he'd brought enough logistics to support an extended campaign for months of non-stop war, he'd literally had the SLDF Engineers prepare the planet for any kind of threat the AoC could possibly bring. Except the Agents didn't bring anything. They were intending to destroy things that were here, and frankly Draconis couldn't care at all about it. Homes could be rebuilt. Factories and machines and all the other amenities that people in the CIS allowed for the quality of life and productivity could be replaced. Lives could not. Sentient, innocent lives that the Agents of Chaos were so not only willing to throw away, but clearly hide behind as they accused the CIS of the same.

Must be easy to rationalize that from their point of view, seeing as they can hardly see anything else behind their living shields, Draconis mused.

Draconis continued to push through as the members of the 1st Marines continued to sweep and clear the city, looking for anyone that was trying to escape or otherwise cause destruction outside of the few that were well and clearly engaged. He'd left a command post because he had been expecting combat, he'd been expecting a fight that would be a grueling grudge match as the SLDF would have to take the city back street by street, block by block. He'd expected something. Anything. And there was nothing. Every five minutes each team would check in with higher, and each of them checking in with their own higher commands until it all reached Draconis. Nothing. No contact what so ever. Now the only largest threat was that Draconis was going to have a bit of work letting the engineers undoing their own handiwork that they'd so meticulously emplaced. Especially all of the explosives. He finally just came to a stop in the street, and looked about, deciding that there was indeed nothing here. He shook his head in clear distaste.

Draconis said one thing out loud to himself as he walked back to one of the gates, clearly annoyed with the situation.

"If you're gonna pick a fight with someone like this, and let them know when and where you're coming, don't be so arrogant to think you can take on an army with barely a platoon,"

There was no way at all this was their answer. They had to be planning something else right? They couldn't possibly believe this was enough to take the planet.

Right?

 

[Domino]

• Objective - Blow this popsicle stand!
• Location - Dome exterior, jetpacking away from life's problems...
• Gear and Equipment - Armor, LMG, Sidearm, knife, rock, candle, twin lightsabers, various grenades, demolition charges.
• Allies - Agents of Chaos, Strike Team Bluebell Sasmay Cull
• Post 10

Sasmany grabbed on and Domino prepared to lift off when a though occurred to her, they'd used all the demolition charges, but a few more class-a thermal detonators couldn't hurt. In the sense that they'd make things hurt a lot more. Yanking the straps that held her 'nade pouches and munitions bag to snap them free and then tossed them into the edge of the demolition charge ring. The sympathetic explosions would hopefully further unbalance the stability of the top.

Keying her armor's jetpack, Domino took the two of them out horizontally rather than try and slowly build altitude over-weighted as they were as gravity slowly pulled them down. "Yeah it's nice until you get a crink in your neck from trying not to run into things." Even without the Force showing her the little bright points of life ringing the city, it was obvious that troops would be stationed there to repel reinforcements or contain Agents within. With the Force it was trivial to pick out a spot she felt far enough away from the pickets to temporarily touch down and disembark her passenger.

Taking a meditative kneeling position only slightly ruined by the bulk of her war gear and that pesky LMG she'd never used flapping around on its strap, Domino once again dropped into the illusory web-pool mix that was her farsight. She followed the threads that was the dome, witnessed the wonderment of a child that such a thing could exist, felt the thankfulness of a city that at least the really bad pollution was kept out by it, heard the curses towards it that thought it an oppressive presence wherever they went and trapping them in, And then she began to pull on it. The order was almost serene when it came, Domino had nothing left in her concentration for voice inflection. "Blast it Cull."

 

[Théodoro]

// THEO // THYRSIAN SUN GUARD // GREAT BALL OF FIRE
// OBJECTIVE // BATTLE ON RODIA // DESTROY MADALENA ANTARES
// FOCUS // Madalena Antares // Nerium Eldoc Quasat Zaldros Sabolte // Shuklaar Kyrdol Luna Terrik
// REGALIA // IN BIO // 1x Wrist Rocket

He'd hoped his declaration of intentions might've smoothed things out, but in quick succession the situation changed. First was the breaking of the sewer tunnel from above. Walkers and their floodlights peeked through. Theo did not care for the damage here, but he did not appreciate the interruptions. There had been enough to this duel already and he was ready to slaughter the fools who dared even consider firing at them.

Still, Madalena's split-second move to shatter the floor under the both of them was the more pressing matter. His initial attack tapped the tip of his pike against her shoulder, but the fact that they were now falling forced it away after a moment. Without enough time to fully pierce her armor, Madalena appeared to only have been affected by the stun module that soon caused her left arm to go limp. Glancing blows from a force pike may not have been fatal, but they would be difficult to shake off. He had struck the first blow. He would strike a few more.

Instead of attempting to grab her, Theo used their fall to put some distance between them. He twisted back and hit the floor below, rolling away from Madalena before springing to his feet once more. The darkness, rubble, and shit have tried to clung to his golden armor. To fight honorably against an enemy and to snuff out their light was a worthy goal. But a great warrior will shine bright even as the final darkness of death approaches.

His fire still raged against Madalena. Still, the fact that she was fighting back made him smile. If she did not fight back she would indeed be damned.

Theo saw the flicker of emotion in her eyes as she raised her right arm towards him. She was a Sith of sorts, a Force user, and he knew that in some way they drew their power from their emotions. As she leveled her arm at him his eyes flicked to one side of his HUD and his personal shield sprung to life around him. The lightning slammed into the translucent blue shield and arced around the Sun Guard. Under his helmet his grin widened. This was the fight he had been searching for.

"Show me your power, Madalena Antares! You can do better!" Theo roared. He charged back into melee, turning off his shield the moment he was in range to strike with his pike again. His grip was slick from the sewage but he held on tight. As he thrust towards his opponent's torso the Aspis on his left arm sprung to life to deflect the last of the lightning before his pike reached Madalena.

He was ecstatic. For there was no other feeling like the feeling of exhilaration that came in the moments of life and death.

 

[Sasmay Cull]

WIELDING: 4 Whimsy Knives, 1 Nastirci Combat Knife, 2 HG-88 ‘Big Iron’ Hand Cannons -(One has Glitter Bullets) 5/6 Verpine accessory shot ion tag round, 1 R12 LMG, (6) of Chaos Gas grenades, (4/6) of Elemental Grenades, Pouch of Vita Stones, A couple candles in separate pouches
WEARING: Phase II Haywire Armor with no helmet on top of UL-13 Corporis Skin Suit with helmet
LOCATION: We be flyin, like, away.
ALLIES: Agents of Chaos, Strike Team Bluebell, Domino
OBJECTIVE - Bringing down the...dome.

​

The woman watched as a sling of explosives were dropped before they took into the air, flying horizontal as she nodded to the thought of not trying to gain altitude. The information of a crink in the neck garnered a frown. She supposed there was some give and take to the whole thing. Usually how nice things went in life. The almost bland tone Domino used to alert her was not noted as the woman turned her head slowly. Finger pressing against the detonator. It was a neat sight, watching the slow burst of explosions around the top. It paused for a long moment halfway around the ring.

The large frown appeared as Sasmay wrapped her arms around the other woman as best she could. She gripped the detonator tight in one hand as the other cupped and clapped against the clenched fist, the trigger being pressed a few more times. It took a split second for the explosions to *begin again, the semi circle beginning to close towards them in quicker succession.

The top groaned, shifting weight making god awful noises as the construction rubbed against itself and snaps could be heard. Previous damage from the fleets barrage likely helped the explosions work. The finale was the sling of explosives Domino had thrown as the last few detonations were almost split seconds of each other, a large cacophony that made the aural dampeners struggle for a moment as the sling of thermals went of with the charges.

It was a sight to see, the weight of the cap shifting against the large final detonation, a horrid groan sounding as though a great beast from below the waters had awoken with a grave hunger.

Inside, the sounds were akin to the earlier barrage, save for the final detonation. With the force of a rail gun, the final blast rocked the dome, the cap shuddering as support struts and other pieces holding it up gave out against the sudden shift of weight and force. Small fragments dropped as a preamble to the large piece they came from shifting and a great vacuum of pollutants and atmosphere were sucked into the gap behind the former dome cap. Now, once shelter was now changed into a device of destruction, one she didn't feel so bad about given there were no civilians on the planet.

(OOC *edited for grammar, nothing major changed)

 

[Daegon Corvinus]

Location: Rodia
Objective: KILL ALWINE DAYE
Wearing: xxx
CIS: Muad Dib | open
AoC: Alwine Daye | Rashae

Lies and slander was the game many a politician play, but not Daegon. He had always dealt in truth. Facts, reality, balck and white, what was and was not, these were the weapons The Demon kept closest to his chest. There was no reason for him to use lies and deceit to manipulate when honesty and altruism did a much better job of it.​

​

Everything on Olanet had been recorded. From Gabriel’s first attack...​

​

Dark eyes flared with hate as he listened to the man's words. After his little diatribe Gabriel had remained quite, allowing the real players in all this to hash out the issues. The whole time the master sat there he was plagued by a sense of malice hidden under all the talk of peace. And here it was, proof that the Confederacy was willing to use any means to depose of their enemies, even using the sacredness of a parley. There were few things he held as sacred, but keeping ones word was one of them. All those in the room today only came with the understanding that no violence would occur on this world, and all would be allowed to leave in the same condition they arrived.

​

Gabriel looked to Alwine Daye with a defeated looked as he turned to lock eyes on the Viceroy. With a looked of vicious intent he reached out with both hands grabbing half a dozen of the guards in a tight force grip. All those caught flew up forcefully hitting the marble ceilings before flying backwards. As much as he desired, Gabriel didn't kill the men. They would be bruised and bloodied but would live to see their families again. All of this happened in a blink of an eye as Gabriel brought his hands down in an accusatory manner. Hot flames sprang from his palms as he moved in front of the more vulnerable members of the gathering. "I would instruct your guards to lower their weapons Viceroy. I meant what I said when I came here for peace, just as everyone else has. But I doubt they would take any of us down before I turned you into ashe."​

​

Eyes looked at each on the confederacy side, trying to gauge which of them had been in on this rouse. It was a same really, because up until now he found himself impressed with many of the members. The possibilities of agreements with them had left the dark master hopeful. Yet if this Viceroy was their poster boy of honor then he had no use for their kind. Lastly he looked over to Enlil before returning his gaze to Derek Dib . "The only crime that has been committed in this room today is your lack of honor. I would listen to the King. You have not only tainted your own honor with your actions but that of the Confederacy. From the lowliest peasant to the Lord Commander himself. We may die here today, but so will you and the entire galaxy will know what happened and will damn your people for a single man's actions. No death will come of today. I care little about your damnation of the AoC. I care only that at least you uphold the honor your Confederacy claims to have."​

​

​

... to @Faye Malvern’s warning that violence was not the way.​

​

“It would be wise of you to refrain from making such wild threats, you are outnumbered here and fighting will only ever amount to more bloodshed.” The words were not in any way threatening. Instead her tone had taken a softer turn, as though she were imploring more than demanding, but it was too late. Faye looked on in horror as a sweep of dark force overshadowed the room, seeing several souls cash against the wall and land in a tangled heap. She took a step back from the table, then two. “Came here for peace indeed…” Faye spoke at Gabriel Volturi. “Whether you are willing to see it or not your actions are the first to cause harm here. Remember that, when you tell this story.”

​

It was the truth which motivated Deagon to seek out the wretched lupine and kill her. There had been no need for violence that day. They had promised no violence and yet they had broken their word, and for the entire galaxy to see. Alwine Daye shot Derek Dib and Seraphina Corvinus . As Daegon’s bellow rang through the forest he knew it was justified. The anger which stirred deep within was not based on some misguided interpretation of what had taken place. It was the passion and vengeance of one who had spent countless sleepless nights since replaying the events of that day in his mind and accessing the holofeed.​

​

Anarchists.​

​

Liars.​

​

Terrorists.​

​

Murderers.​

​

That was all the Agents of Chaos were, and that was all they would ever be. There was only one solution, only one answer for their tactics.​

​

Kill them.​

​

The sound of a winged beast could be heard overhead. Daegon looked above to find the Mad Man Muad Dib riding upon it. Fire shot from him in the same manner that his brother Derek had been able to control the element. For a brief moment a satisfied grin fell on the Demon’s face. It was his element. Today it most resembled what raged inside of him.​

​

His mind reached out to the man with a warning.​

​

< “We must not let her escape. I cannot bear facing my Seraph and tell her the woman responsible for her pain still lives.” >​

​

Nor could he.​

​

Seraphina would not want him hunting the woman. Her nature calming guidance would turn Deagon back toward Thyferra and her people. There was still work to be done, terraforming projects that needed to be finished. Parts of the world still lay in ruins, and there was yet one more company for Daegon to bring under his control. The needs at home far outweighed his desire of justice, but Daegon could not see it.​

​

He was blinded by anger, and without The Angel of Thyferra to help him see, Daegon was lost.​

​

< “Let us agree… we will not rest until the deed is done. I will swear it in my own blood if I must.” >​

​

His eyes cast upward toward the man. Would he agree?​

​

Until the answer was given there was only one thing for Daegon to do, and that was press into the forest. He would find Alwine. Muad would follow.​

 

[Larentia]

Objective: Denying her Accusors; Finishing off a Reunion
Location: Industrial part of the Iskaayuma, on a rooftop.
Allies: Agents of Chaos
Enemies: Confederacy of Independent Systems
Armor: Phase I Haywire Armor
Equipment: Phase I Sword of Eve, Whimsy Knife, Light-Shield Bracelet, Taozin Amulet, Generic breathing mask
Tags: (AoC) Scherezade deWinter + Open
(CIS) Gerwald Lechner Redd Shalita Verd Vytal Noctura

This was not to be her fight today. As far as Larentia knew, she had never met Gerwald in battle or worse off, he never found out it had been here today. The thought had occured to the wolf in the past, but until now she had never possed a remark on the thought, it had hardly mattered. Today though, as she watched Scherezade and Gerward nearing combat, she did wonder if he simply never knew who she was and that had been the only reason why it had never been mentioned.

Perhaps the future wasn't changing at all.

Her sword was at the ready but no one had attacked yet, travelling between shadows and moving about. The lightsabers provided enough light to see positions when he spoke. First, it was to Scherezade; then to her. There is much I could teach you, more than this one ever could, Gerward told her, with Scherezade following with her own words. How to properly abandon people. He was already engaging the debris coming at him, from what she could tell when the urge to speak up, against all she had vowed to herself emerged. "I've learned plenty from you, Gerward Lechner. Perhaps some day, you'll teach another." The question remained just how much the future was changing; would the wolf lord ever learn the truth, would he again have a chance to get to know her, to train her. Time would tell, after all, Scherezade wasn't wrong.

The Lupine could feel the second presence soon after, blue gaze drawing to the sides to find its source. A wolf was near, the same one that had been beside Gerward there. She too was standing back. Her mind softened and reached out to Redd : 'I mean you no harm. You and me are the same. I will only strike on my own if I am attacked by them.' Larentia didn't know who she was, as such she was but a Lupine. No wolf was her enemy by default, no matter their side. It was a lecture taught to her very early. There would be Lupines that would truly be her enemies someday in the future, but only two. This girl was neither of them. If she was to remain behind as the two former lovers battled, then Larentia would do the same. Perhaps, it was time for it, to deal with former issues.

It did surprise her though, just how much she had grown since the times of the Lupine Wars, they had been a lecture like no other. They had helped the temperamental wolf grow in patience, learn to bide her time and respect others like her even more.

Magic was at works here, she felt it just moment later. Nearby and all too close, it was there; a vision flashing before her eyes. The dead, the skelletons; late though because just second later, she had felt them rise up to the rooftop, magicks undoutedly controlling them. They hadn't attacked yet but the wolf held on her weapon still. If she was to fight the dead, so be it. They had fought the dead before, the spirits and the traps of the old religion. It seemed that remained the same, the fight with the dead, no matter what.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Location: Rodia
Objective: Kill
Gear: Morph Armor, Wolfsbane
CIS: Redd | open
AoC: Scherezade deWinter | Larentia

There it was again, words which made Gerwald wonder how Larentia seemed to know about him, and why it was she seemed so familiar. He should have seen it in her eyes. They were the same color after all. Why Gerwald could not see it was perhaps because he had not seen them close, or the amulet worn around the woman’s neck at work.​

​

Blue eyes flicked back to Scherezade. Oh how wrong she was. It was always her spin, he way of seeing things, but now that they faced each other the truth was clear.​

​

Scherezade had left that day, cursing both he and Katrine.​

​

Scherezade had tried to end her own existence, and horribly messed it up.​

​

Katrine had been the one to go missing, having left Gerwald alone for months at a time without word.​

​

Alwine had eventually simply left as well. One day she had been with the Confederacy and the next she was gone.​

​

Perhaps the old Gerwald, the one from Stewjon had abandoned his family once, but this Gerwald, the one the Confederacy had formed had not abandoned anyone. He had left none behind. No, he had been the one abandoned, by everyone that had ever claimed to have loved him.​

​

There was plenty of magic at work, and Gerwald could feel it in his bones. There was a war over his own body, and where one power acted the other provided a counter. In the end, Gerwald felt nothing of whatever Scherezade was trying to do to him.​

​

Her knives, however, were a different story.​

​

It wasn’t that her attempts to cut him succeeded, the force barrier which formed around his body protected him. Gerwald had simply been surprised that they could teleport. It was a neat little trick, but one Gerwald could do as well. It required a bit of focus, but as he charged ahead, the beast seemed to phase right through his enemy. One moment he was in front of her, and the very next he was behind her.​

​

Eyes scanned the place where he stood not even two feet from Scherezade. The fault in the roof was obvious in the force, and with a stop of his foot, and ripple of force energy, Gerwald accessed its shatterpoint.​

​

The stop was a bit louder than expected, only because of the bombs which went off above. Glass and debris fell from the dome, much of it falling in their direction. Suddenly Gerwald looked to Redd . His eyes wide as he realized that in her current form she was in danger. He no longer cared about the fight. Only one thing settled in his mind.​

​

He was not going to see another person he cared for get hurt.​

​

Gerwald did not care that the roof would begin to collapse under his feet with the effects of the shatterpoint. He simply began to run in hopes that he would reach Redd before the shards of glass from above could. They needed to make their escape and get off the roof before it fell out from under their feet.​

​

He would be too late.​

​

Scooping up the injured Lupine in his arms, Gerwald turned to Larentia and gave her his final words for this meeting. They were pressed into her mind so Scherezade could not hear them.​

​

< “You do not belong with them. You know this. You can feel it, sense it. You know where to find me when you are ready.” >​

​

With that, Gerwald leapt from the roof to the ground below and sped away. He would not abandon his squire, a pack member, when she needed his help.​

​

[FIN]​

 

[Redd]

REDD
LOCATION: Industrial part of the Iskaayuma: Rooftop
WEARING: A fur coat
EQUIPMENT: Wolf Form
ALLIES: Gerwald Lechner | BX-72967-RAZOR | Vytal Noctura
ENEMIES: Scherezade deWinter | Larentia

Golden eyes watched the other lupine with a curiousity that wanted to know more. Ever since the devastation of her pack, she had always been drawn to those of her kind. This was because she wasn’t used to seeing others outside of her own pack. Gerwald had been the first, then Alwine, Astrid and Torgeir. She was meeting more and more lupines, yet she was always drawn back to her original pack and that was Gerwald. If she had to fight this one, she’d be torn, because she didn’t want to fight another of her kind as they were so few. However, if Gerwald wanted her to fight this one, then she would until then she’d simply be there watching.

Then she heard the other one’s words and her head angled to the right as she leaned forwards just slightly as if she wanted nothing more than to connect with another. So, she reached out with her own mind, ’I won’t attack you either, unless you give me reason to.’ She paused for a moment as an ear flickered towards the sound of fighting before she continued to speak. ’I am Redd, Redd Astor of an old pack that is no more. Gerwald is my new start, my new pac-’ Her sentence was cut short as a sound of an explosion caused a sound of glass shattering above them. The wolf’s golden gaze was drawn upwards towards the tinkering sounds, sounds that continued onwards even after the initial explosions.

'The sky is falling!' The red wolf said to the other female lupine in absolute wonder.

The shards that fell, reflected the small shining stars above and she couldn’t help but see the beauty in the shards as they fell. It reminded her of twinkling lights somehow and her ears perked forwards, as the fight between Gerwald and the non lupine faded into the background. How anyone could find beauty in raining shards of glass was beyond her, but somehow in amongst the battle, the sharpened pieces seemed to fit into place even as the glass fell out of its own. She knew that the falling glass was dangerous, but they also had enough time to view it before it became a problem. It was just breathtaking and she reached out to the other as if talking to a lupine who was on the opposite side was normal. ’Do you see this? It’s just s-’ Again her words were short lived as a yelp had the wolf reeling back into their current situation.

It was almost like an outer body experience and she lifted her right hind leg up to alleviate the pain as she felt the sharp edge graze against bone. Drawing in a breath, Redd turned to view the stray knife that had lodged itself between her right hind leg and the bottom of her rib cage, right next to her kidney. That wouldn't be the only problem, as they would find out later, but the knife has also nicked an artery. It had been so long since she had felt the sting of pain, yet as the knife protruded from her body and the blood seeped from the wound, she was reminded that she could still get injured. Redd reached around so then her jaws could grasp a hold of the knife’s hilt and with a yank of her head, she ripped it out. Her legs buckled out from underneath her as a flash of pain clouded her field of vision for a moment and she whined while she watched the blood run free from the wound. Now was a good time to panic about the falling shards of glass.

With each breath, the wolf pulled herself back up onto paws that were unsteady and with the knife still grasped in between her jaws, she moved towards the lip of the roof. She didn’t have much time however, as the first heaviest shards fell first and one of those large pieces sliced through her right shoulder before it shattered upon the rooftop. Jaws gritted against the knife’s hilt that was clutched them as she struggled against the pain and now from the blood that she was losing from her first initial injury. She was almost… There. You can do it Redd! The wolf coached herself as she limped towards the roof’s lip covered in skeletons, while trying to maintain minimum movement so then not to lose blood at a faster rate.

Her vision blurred for a moment and her legs threatened to give out as the rooftop appeared to sway underneath her. That was when she felt the arms of Gerwald wrap around her just as she was about to collapse and her golden eyes flickered towards the other lupine who Gerwald had paused in front of. Her jaws would let go of the knife so then it’d fall at the other woman’s feet, ’You should jo-...’ Redd’s words slurred inside the other woman’s head as she was swept under into the darkness. Even though her body was prone to more dangers; deep down, even in her unconscious state, she felt secure with the knowledge that Gerwald hadn’t abandoned her. Instead he’d only proven to her just then that her loyalty was well placed.​

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Unknown Space ~ The Veil [Space Around Rodia - Approaching the Fleeting Fight]
Allies: CIS
Enemy: AoC | Willam Forlon
Tags: Adron Malvern
______________________________

Quiet.

The bridge of The Veil was shrouded in a sense of stillness that left Srina feel as if she ought to hold her breath. There were small echoes of ambient sounds. Metallic digits moving over controls while quietly reporting and offering details to one another. The steady hum of the engines that could almost, almost, be overlooked. Eyes of liquid silver traced the stately form of Adron Malvern while he remained a statue of flesh and bone. Transfixed, by the enemy. By the movements they made.

Or the moves they didn’t make.

They could not reach out to the rest of the Confederacy whilst running dark nor could they track the status of battle as accurately as she would have liked. Her expression was empty, but deep within, she felt a sense of pensive apprehension. They had done their best to remove the civilian populace to keep them from becoming human shields—But would that be enough? Would it be enough to keep them from being absorbed into the mouthpiece of toxic terrorism? Could they avoid that poison?

It was impossible to account for every variable. But, they were prepared. This was the largest full-scale evacuation and emergency preparedness plan that the Confederacy had ever enacted. The wintry apprentice was still reeling from what she had metaphysically witnessed on the E'care Shukur that Grand Marshal Amelia von Sorenn fielded. The pale-skinned woman didn’t know what to make of It just yet but she had indeed relayed everything to Exarch Malvern. The Dread Queen reached for her friend through the Force and lent him her gifts. Her will. Her sight, stamina, and reaction time.

‘Be in my eyes. Be in me…’

The inaudible call for the King of Illyria to draw upon her strength. Anything, that might give him an edge. It was part of the same theory that they had always operated under. Strong alone.

Stronger together.

Srina remained seated in the command throne while Adron issued orders to the fleet. She could feel a sense of security through that which bound all living things, even in the dark, while the B1 Units began to hesitate. Her ears piqued while Adron’s voice wafted through the stillness. His tone was soft, smooth, and unlike that which he used to address the droids. He was their Captain. Her friend. “I prefer to think of it as superior experience and technology, but perhaps luck has something to do with it.”, she responded with equal gentleness, even, and unbothered. There was no hubris. Simply what she believed to be fact. No matter how the silvery haired woman felt within she would never let it show. Never, ever.

“We should take advantage of it. Make this battle our own—And erase them from our space.”

Adron went on to explain what would happen next and the young woman leaned back in the metallic seat. His words were committed to memory while her nerves steeled against the impact that would inevitably come. Her exhaustion was palpable, but, it was war. Nothing could stop it. Nothing could stand in the way of it. The needs of Adron Malvern remained clear. “I will see it done.”

The Veil was in position.

Srina braced.

It wasn’t enough.

The Super Star Destroyer crashed into a smaller ship with such ferocity that it seemed to simultaneously tear it to pieces while sending large pieces of debris and shrapnel firing in opposite directions. The Exarch could feel a sudden, overwhelming, sense of death. Not just from the carrier they’d run through, but, from the E'care Shukur. It didn’t stop there. It was a chain reaction that kept growing, kept thriving, while the Veil was rocked by the nearby shockwaves and explosions that seemed like they would never end. The scent of the dying was a ghostly perfume that pervaded her every sense without repose. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t on their ship.

But—She could sense it all the same. Feel death. “Adron!”, she called out warningly through clenched teeth whilst holding on to the armrests. She called on the Force to hold her steady while some of the droids fell and skittered across the floor. Her heart hammered in her chest. The Veil could take a fair amount of damage, it was true, but it seemed a good portion, if not the entirety of the enemy fleet, was caught in a maelstrom that heralded the loss of ship after ship. It was hard to tell without reports. All she could feel was death.

The air felt hard to breathe while the invisible cries of the enemy filled her head. Using her abilities in a metaphysical sense only moments before left her vulnerable. Srina was intelligent, strong, but not impervious to the negative effects of over-extending. The sheer terror and agony gripped at her without mercy, a pain at the tip of her sternum, whilst life was wrenched away and drained back into the beyond en mass.

Srina felt the impact in her bones. The death in her body; in the very center of her being.

No. She took no pleasure in this.

Srina, the Dread Queen, took power in this. She drank in the fear and terror that erupted around the Veil and swallowed it whole. It assimilated with her own distress and vented into a sense of pure equilibrium. Silver eyes began to flicker with gold while Sith Corruption made itself known in a latticework of dark markers around her eyes. Silver bled into gold. Silver, became gold. Sharp, metallic, and unfeeling. As focused as a hawk or a bird of prey. Fear.

Fear could be used. Dread—Was her calling. She rode the wave of it in relative silence until the ship stopped shuddering. Alarms blared. Warnings, reports, and issues that Srina could not worry about containing. That was not her place. It was the duty of the Captain.

Adron kept things moving like clockwork. As if their viewport hadn’t just been filled with light so bright, so very bright, that it was nearly blinding. It was like a star being born. His dark hair glinted in the light that was reflected from the shining interior of The Veil and the Echani slowly relaxed her grip on the arms of the command throne. Knuckles that had gone translucent and white slowly returned to normal. She breathed, pausing, so that she could utilize the Holo-Comm system. There might have been jamming technology in the area but they no longer needed to stay hidden. The enemy fleet knew they were present now, especially, because they’d arrived with nothing short of a bang.

“This is Exarch Talon reporting from the Veil. We’ve entered the field of engagement in the airspace of Rodia and have made contact…”, Srina began smoothly. Her frequency carried to both Sabine Delacroix and Amelia von Sorenn while she provided updates that were happening in real-time. Data flowed to show the outcome of their arrival and the subsequent remains of an enemy Invincible-Class Cruiser and every other ship that had been compromised or destroyed. “We’re cutting through their center line so we can put a strain on their forces. Divide and conquer. The Defense Fleet nearest to Rodia should focus on their frontal guard, per Exarch Malvern, and we will sweep up the rest. Including any possible escape pods.”

“The fleet of Grand Marshal Von Sorenn should stand down, stabilize, and maintain a defensive pattern over Rodia. Those attempting to escape the planet's surface without the correct Confederate identification and codes should be neutralized.”

Her voice was authoritative and made of ice so cold that it could have burned and wrought flesh from bone. Her tone was sure. There was no question, no anxiety, and no sense of uncertainty. Eyes the color of a burning yellow sky pulled back toward the transparisteel windows while illuminations and weapons fire continued to roll through the velvet expanse of space. She could see the shields of ships being struck, accompanied by distant explosions, and the light continued to reflect distantly in her gaze. The Veil, though injured, moved forward. Ever onward, ever forward.

“…This war has only just begun…”

Her whispered words would ring with truth. This was a battle, likely, one of many. Her stomach felt as if it was bottoming out while the Veil moved forward, into the black, while their fleet pressed into the breach. The Confederacy had anticipated a full-scale war. They had torn people from their lives, from their homes, with the expectation of repelling the enemy enough so that they could return and continue to live peacefully. How many times would they need to repeat this process? On how many different worlds? For how long? How much could their people take?

Srina rose from the command throne and made her way toward Adron and wisps of shadow pulled along with her. It was restless. Her aura filled the ship. He was in his element. She was not. She thrived from fighting up close and personal. It was meaningful in the sense that she ensured her enemy was deceased. The death needed to be immediate; final. An enemy could not return so easily to the land of the living when their body went cold and the soul fled their eyes. Fighting from a warship like this was impersonal. Cold. It left her with uncertainties.

It annoyed her. The Agents could escape.

Escape—And return to massacre their people, disrupt their lives, and bring terror another day.

Nigh silent footsteps brought her to stand behind Adron Malvern . Her hand fell to his arm before her fingers slid down and threaded with his, encouraging the Force Connection, to allow him clarity of mind. To allow him to siphon some of the agitated energy that simmered just beneath the surface of her skin. It wanted free. To fight. Echani were never meant to exist in a metal cage. Her fingers winding in his allowed her an anchor that stilled the warrior within. Her touch was a silent notion of support and respect. Stronger together. Always, stronger together. There were darker days still yet to come. They needed to be more. Darker, than the shadowy abyss. Let the Darkside come. Let the Confederacy pool their resources and become the monsters that the Galaxy seemed to think they were. All of their past efforts had turned to ash. Every bit of sacrifice—For nothing.

While spacers from the Agents died all around them in droves…She decided. Fully. Completely.

If it meant protecting themselves?

Let the monsters rise.

Their soldiers suffered. Their people fought, bled, and died. The only way to ensure that the Southern Systems could live on without threat to their nation or those beneath their wings revolved around eradicating the enemy with extreme prejudice. Golden eyes flickered while she tapped her Holo-Comm and set brought it to her lips. The missive came while the Exarch’s watched the results of their actions fill the area around them with scrap and bodily remains. So very, very much space trash.

“Confederacy…”, the pale woman began, her voice ringing like crystalline bells, through the comm system. It was not a message for the Agents of Chaos. It was not a piece of propaganda designed to sway public opinion and cause dissent. It was personal. It came from a woman who held her nation in the foremost of her mind. From a woman who had lost her only child, unborn, in the name of representing each and every one of them. From a woman who internally accepted the Southern Systems as hers to protect, encourage, and bless. Just as any Mother would. “Hear me—Confederacy.”

“Fight. Fight on. You stand at the edge of a precipice in which your nation is under siege from the most insidious of threats. A threat capable of using forked tongues to turn your own friends and family against you. If you don’t see the enemy? Stay alert. Have faith. You will. They will scatter themselves, as rats flee from the light, to hide away in hopes that we will never find them. In hopes that we will give up fighting with so few to chase. In hopes that exhaustion will catch up with us and that we will forget.

We will never forget.

Tear them out. Root and stem. Excise them from our nation as a cancer is cut out, removed, and burned. Leave nothing left of them. More importantly—We do not negotiate with terrorists. It doesn’t matter what they say. It doesn’t matter what excuses, slander, or actions they take. We will never stop. We will never make peace. We will do what must be done.

Your leaders are with you, Confederacy. We will not stand idly by and allow our enemies to violate our sovereign systems with impunity. We fight among you. Beside you. We will live and die with you.

I stand with Exarch Malvern on the Veil. Our ship has taken substantial damage; however, we will continue to fight on in your name. There will be no withdrawal. We will continue to wage war by any means necessary. No matter the price. No matter the cost. We have struggled. We have suffered.

Show no mercy, Confederacy.

Your nation needs every single one of you to have all the courage and stamina you can muster. We will bring about the eradication of this menace despite the risks and hurdles in our way. The cost of freedom has always been high. We will pay it. We will pay with our blood, sweat, and tears—And Force willing, our systems will be safe once more.

Never give up. Never, surrender. Confederacy…Our Southern Systems. We are with you.”

Srina cut the feed and squeezed Adron’s hand a little harder. She could feel his pulse. Steady, true.

The Exarch couldn’t promise their people that this would be a bloodless endeavor in the slightest. They all knew the score. The events on Ryloth and Olanet had been plastered over every feed the Galaxy had to offer. She could only remind them of the reasons they fought and promise that they wouldn’t suffer alone. Her eyes fell closed for a moment and burnished golden orbs became hidden while the darkness within her swelled. She wished that she could take the might that burned in her body and end this battle for them. If she could take up a singular sword and somehow bring them peace? So they could finally rest?

She would kill a hundred, a thousand, with her bare hands.

Her eyes opened and her chilling gaze focused back on the task at hand.

“…I am with you, Adron. Let us do what must be done.”

Spoiler: Equipment

Heart of Cold
Terentatek Body Gloves
Holding Aces
HG-54 "The Vora" Class Hand Cannon
Mothers Wrath
The Ring of Aspiration
CIS Holocomm Device [Not in use while in stealth mode]

Spoiler: OOC & Edit

Hi there. If I miss something please reach out and let me know.

Fixed a typo.

,

 

[Typhan Berrezz]

:: Location = Rodia, Iskaayuma > Yesosko Cabaret Theater
Objective = Get treated
Equipment = Phase I armor, repeating rifle, heavy blaster pistol, commlink, WoL potions, relief gas, grenades
Allies = CIS ( Rann Thress ) ; Enemies = AoC Post = 05 ::​

"Yessir," Typhan had answered Rann's question about Omega's leadership as they closed in on the cabaret. At least he was at present; as an officer, he assumed control from the highest-ranked NCO, Staff Sergeant Dyarron. And, as lieutenant himself, the commanding officer he was paired with would be two rungs above him. " Damsy Callat ," he followed-up. "Off defendin' Talay." He hoped that that was going better for her than defending Rodia was going for him.

Presently, at the hospital, he finally realized that the medics plus...whoever Nimue was had all taken after their newly supplied patients, leaving him alone in the lobby he had wondered blindly into. The fog was back in force, spreading from over his eyes down his neck and across his shoulders. They slumped under the weight of his pauldrons as if he was a shiny again, wearing his suit for the first time on the training grounds. He entered to greater theater, trying hard not to drag his feet, and stopped again past that threshold. He scanned the room with bare eyes after taking off his sunbonnet, and, with enough sense remaining to think to stay out of the way of the bustling medics, made his way to the empty orchestral pit.

Sitting on the rail dividing the gallery from the shallow drop-off, Berrezz got to removing his gear piece by piece. Upon approach, he had leaned his rifle up against the velvet half paneling; now, first came his bothersome pauldrons. His shoulders burned under the durasteel, screaming with the tension of shock. It was finally settling again.

How was he going to tell Damsy?

Somewhere, from outside, he heard an explosion of sorts. Far off, like the sky was falling - the dome was beginning to - but he heard it near and dear, as if the BWFC bomber was chewing up his men all over again. At once, he forgot undressing and, slowly, curled his arms over his head into an accommodated fetal position.

 

[Malerina Ka]

Location: Rodia, Weapons Factory District
Objective: Lick wounds
Allies: AoC and Allies
Enemies: CIS and Allies
Tags: Asaraa Vaashe Caedyn Arenais

Huh. That wasn't supposed to happen. Malerina had been much more interested in taking blood from her dearmer opponent, but it seemed her prior target practice had decided to play hero. How stupid. And how disgustingly cliche romance. It made her want to puke...or that might've been the shock. She wasn't quite sure. Letting her half-deranged mind wander for a brief moment, the Sephi reached out in a flash to try and grab her knife.

Before the Jedi trash did Jedi things.

The warrior was sent flying, though to her credit she made some attempts to hold on for awhile: but reaching out, only to realize she was missing half that arm made it quite difficult.

Eventually the Clone came to a crashing halt on a building, and could hear a handful of loud cracks on impact, and when she slammed back into the ground, blood leaked from half her wound where he arm once was, and a new gash had appeared on her face: her she didn't cry. Did not yelp in pain. She had been trained to be void of such things. She stared at the distant figure of the Jedi now, hatred burning in her heart brighter than any star. But self preservation took over.

Spitting a viscous wad of blood onto the ground, the broken Sephi began to pathetically hobble away back to the shadows: but Malerina swore something to herself, in that pitiful state: the Jedi would die. All of them.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Industrial part of the Iskaayuma
Wearing: Armatura | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | The Sofitor
Wielding: 7 Nozhi Blades | 1 Whimsy Knife | 1 Whimsy Witch Knife | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Clarion | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke | Combat Gauntlets | Tessen | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader KD-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets | The Parasite | Generic Breathing Mask
Allies: Agents of Chaos + Allies | Larentia + Open
Enemies: Confederacy | BX-72967-RAZOR Gerwald Lechner Redd +Their allies

Scherezade could sense Vytal Noctura 's Force signature from a not too far off distance. She laughed, blowing a kiss into the air wards its general direction. One day, the two would actually face off. This… This was child's play, compared to what the future would hold. It was only a shame that the witch's doings were keeping her from pulling the Lupine's blood from his body.

Congratulations, witchling, Scherezade laughed, the message sent directly to Vytal, and to her mind only, You've robbed me of my bleeding. You are now in my debt. Someone will bleed, and someone you care for will bleed, because of you. Should you some day prefer to pay the debt yourself, I will welcome it.

From the corner of her eye, she saw that a knife somehow lodged into Redd . It was a very strange occurrence, for Scherezade knew exactly where each and every single one of her blades was; there was no way to control them all in the manner that she did without being able to do so. Whatever had hit the wolf - it had not been hers.

Looking back to Gerwald Lechner , there was little she could do but shake her head. She could see the expression on his face. She didn't know the exact words of his thoughts, but she knew he tried to shake off having abandoned anyone within them. The problem was, that he had always been passive about it - he would treat those he claimed he loved like they were worth less than the dirt on his boot, and then when they were fed up with it, he would accuse them of leaving.

It was nothing short of manipulation and abuse, of the very same performed by others within the Confederacy.

Perhaps it was a very good thing that nothing had grown from those few months that happened what felt like several lifetimes ago. Gerwald was a perfect fit for the Confederacy. And bit by bit, more and more people were realizing that there were better pastures out there, that the purple of its grass was nothing other than some cheap food coloring.

He escaped, the other lupine in his hand, and Scherezade now burst into laughter, calling all her blades, which had never been far from her, back to their places.

"Run, boy, run," she shook her head as she walked to Larentia , her body language borderlining seductive, though it was mostly post-disappointing-battle-adrenaline. The smoothness of her walk was halted as she jumped backwards, the majority of the roof crashing in because of what Gerwald had done. Scherezade raised an eyebrow and then shrugged, walking along the very edges of the roof towards Larentia, shoving the few skeletons that were there down it. Skeletons? Next time, she hoped Vytal would send something more powerful to her.

The Sithling closed her eyes, inhaling the life that was around them. She could not detect if there were any more skeletons or other types of undead, and she was certain that she could not feel all the combatants sent against them into the city, but the ones that she could feel… Heartbeats, bloodlines, life… There were more than she could count with her senses. That meant hundreds of thousands that she knew were there for sure, and who knew how many more?

Motioning to Larentia , Scherezade sat down on the edge of the building, pulling out a bag of cheese cubes from her belt, opened it, and offered it to the other woman.

"They send hundreds of thousands of people after us if not more, and all we get is this lackluster fight," she shrugged, flying a few cubes straight into her mouth. Her eyes looked up into the sky. It seemed that dawn... "He is an example of what the Confederacy will do," she smiled, "They will run. They have never faced anything like us before - and they do not know how to handle it. They tried to trick us on Siskeen, they tried to defeat us on Ryloth… I have no idea what's happening in space or on Talay right now, but I know this - The Confederacy will run, agin and again and again. Smell this city, Lupine. Smell the sweating bodies, the unwashed people who thought they would trample us under numbers and ended up doing… Not sure what. They are afraid, and they are letting their fears control them. Some Sith they are, uh? And to think that once the galaxy feared them."

Smiling, looked up again. Dawn was breaking. The first rays of light began to peek behind the horizon, breaking the darkness that the Confederacy had sought to cover the city with. It had been a cute idea, but nothing more than that.

"But you know," she chewed on the last cube, "A healthy dose of fear is fine. We could probably use it now." She pointed at the sky. The smell of dawn couldn't overtake their senses; there were still so many enemies around, and someone had managed to crack the dome over the city. It was starting to fall. Correction, it would fall soon. "This is our cue to jet," she grinned.


~ Fin

Spoiler: Edits

Added the "~fin" to make it clear that this is an exit post

Edit 2: Edited the roof collapsing sequence because I'd missed it earlier

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

{ Location: Rodia, Iskaayuma > Yesosko Cabaret Theater }
{ Equipment: Robes + scrubs, meditation amulet, diagnostic gauntlet / headset, basic medkit, sidearm }
{ Allies: Confederates; Enemies: Agents Terrorists; Immediate Tags: Jason Farkas + Aurelion Nova }
{ Objective: Earth - treat wounded CDF/RPOs > Omega Squad, Kaal } { Post: 05 }​

~ † ~​

Not enough time. Not enough energy.

Those were unifying themes of field aid, but so was pretending they weren't.

For instance, Prenn pretended she understood Nimue in entirety. She didn't, understanding ate before I arrived to refer not to her vampiric blood lust but the gut wrenching footprint of war before them both, but she heard her out, nodded, and left nonetheless. Well, help came in many forms. The unexpected variety was just as necessary, if not more, because the Nigthmother concerned herself with the not-so-mundane that the nurse's mind typically revolved around exclusively. For that reason alone, Prennis still had trust in both women, one by proxy of the other.

It was time to focus on Kaal anyway. Batting away the litter's canvas cover, Prenn peered at the encased man. If years of medical service hadn't long since hardened her stomach, she would have just been able to excuse herself. Though he was not shot through the eye, in many ways Kaal was much worse for wear than the sniper's victim that hopefully had gotten airlifted.

"What happened to him?"

Omega's staff sergeant, hanging nearby after having laid one of his men to rest in the chilled basement, replied, "Our suppression team was hit by a bomber." He left out the friendly part, not wanting to distract her from the task at her gloved hands.

She glanced over to Dyarron. "What's your designation?"

"Omega Squad, ma'am." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, visibly nervous. He had removed his bonnet, revealing eyes like Typhan's. "Will you be able to help him?"

It was a beg, not an order nor a request. She did not know. She would try, but he didn't need to hear that god forsaken word, so she didn't answer. Instead, she danced the diaphragm of her stethoscope around the swissed holes in Kaal's chest.

"Figures the medic survives, huh?" Dyarron kept speaking behind her, almost hovering now. "Those guys have nine lives."

She should have said something, but now she couldn't even if something came across her tongue as she tried to chase the combat medic's pulse. Balance, where is it?! she thought. She held up a finger to shush the non-commissioned officer. A heartbeat was there; she just had to find it. She nudged the eartips further into the orifices so it almost hurt. She listened harder for a murmur until she realized in was only perceived ringing.

She couldn't - wouldn't - had to admit defeat...

With the smallest of sighs, Prenn let up the pressure on her ears, and slid the stethoscope's headset down her neck. As she did, she swallowed in time. "I'm...sorry, sir." Even with her finger returned to her side, Dyarron refused to speak up again, and she to look at him. "...I need a toe tag." Typical bedside manner had fled, something even heavier settling into its place. Uncomfortable. Disappointment.

Precisely why one didn't treat with desperation, but tempered expectation.

On a flimsi tag, she recorded name - ___, Kaal - outfit - Omega Squad, 117th Dauntless, CDF - and fate - DOA.

When she returned to Kaal's litter to ask Dyarron his given name, the latter was gone. A quick scan over her domain didn't find him, but Typhan Berrezz on the orchestral pit's boundary.

Now seeing him under the cloud of heavy disappointment rather than desperate urgency, she remembered him from Atrisia. Together they had synthesized a Blackwing cure from segments of Damsy Callat 's DNA. She, like Rann Thress , had last heard she had died at the canal they had left her at, despite her immunity. A strange thing, but medical mystery did nothing to ease Prennis' guilt. Now, add to it Kaal's life, slipped like sand between her fingers.

"Berrezz?" She meant to say more, but the words ossified on her vocal cords as soon as he looked up at her. Only for a moment did recognition of her flash in his eyes, happy lighting in a depressive rain storm. The only thing left was to cross the distance remaining between them, and hug his head to her chest.

Balance, she hoped they had won outside, because the two of them had lost in here.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Location: In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the Lupine's not doing any sleeping tonight, because dawn is here
Wearing: Armor | Lupine Blood Stone | Gills of Destiny | Generic Breathing Mask
Wielding: WindWhisper | Vita Stones | GBG-7416 | Phase Candles | Panna Cake Batter |
Allies: Agents of Chaos | Rashae + Open
Enemies: CIS | Sabine Delacroix Amelia von Sorenn Daegon Corvinus Muad Dib | +Open

Everything on Olanet had been recorded that day - that was why no one gave a krak about the Confederacy's lies. It was impossible to send Muad ahead of time to blow the Scintilla up unless it had been planned - the Unknown Regions weren't that close to Siskeen, and the Siskeenie refugees had been nothing but combatants in disguise. Lying to themselves was the only way they could make their peace with what they had done, and they were welcome to continue to do so - it would be their own nightmares that would plague them, their own conscience that would eventually realize what they had done. Misquoting would not save them of that future, would not salvage their tarnished reputation.

How long had she been running? Alwine had no idea. Time had always felt different to her when she was in her wolf form, and she wasn't certain how to count it. All she knew was that she was, at least for the moment, still far enough from them. She could hear birds from above the trees, just as she knew that in her wolf form she was small enough to be shielded by the jungle's growth. She knew there were things running across the lands, both organic and machine, but she also knew that their shots were not hitting her right now.

It felt like a lifetime.

At one point, her body almost stopped of its own accord, thinking it was safe, that she was sufficiently far away. No. Alwine pushed on, running, knowing her life quite literally depended on it. She had to each one of the extraction points that were available to their people, but she was so far away from those that she knew of…

Above her, the skies began to brighten. She didn't know what time it was, or how long she had been running, but the wolf knew the dawn. The wolf as well as the Force User knew what it meant.

Dawn was the time for magic to break, for danger to become smaller. Dawn was when very existence on a planet was washed in the sensation of new. Even the dew drops smelled like a piece of heaven.

Alwine looked to the skies, and… Well, wolves didn't smile. But she was smiling, on the inside. This entire night of darkness and of running she had been terrified, the fear clinging to her like the piss of skunk. But now… It was as though the break of dawn had washed some of it away, had made her baggage so much easier to carry.

She arrived at the edge of the lake and paused. Rodia was a planet of jungles, swamps, and also lakes. How far had she gotten?!

Turning around for a moment, she decided not to waste any time. She needed them to lose her trail. The gills were still glued to her fur, and when Alwine changed her shapes now, she went from wolf to human. The human was naked, the gills still glued to her, her weapon still in her hand. But her fear was gone, replaced by a sense of inner peace.

With a smile, the Lupine walked into the water, its surface covering her completely within a few steps, and she continued to go deeper and deeper into it. Her trail was dead. Rodia itself had saved her, and she knew that once she was back at home, she would do something she had not done since the days of Stewjon, and offer a sacrifice to the gods. No. She did not believe in them. Yet the events of this battle had been too much for her to be able to do absolutely nothing about it. As she had always suspected, the little rituals were more for the people doing them and less for the deities they were meant to please.

Under the water, Alwine smiled. Deeper and deeper she went, further and further away, without the need to protect others now, she cloaked her own presence in the Force, and smiled.

Later, later she would get to the extraction point. For now, she enjoyed watching the waters becoming lighter, the dawn making everything all right.

~ Fin

Spoiler: Edits

Added the "~Fin" to make it clear this is the exit post for this character

 

[Domino]

• Objective - Enjoy the sights, Exit the Invasion
• Location - Dome City exterior, Rodia Capital
• Gear and Equipment - Armor, LMG, Sidearm, knife, rock, candle, twin lightsabers, various grenades, demolition charges.
• Allies - Agents of Chaos, Strike Team Bluebell Sasmay Cull
• Post 11

Kneeling there with Cull's weight on her was almost as satisfying as watching the city's dome come crashing down. She didn't know how many soldiers the CIS had in the streets and buildings, but watching the dust billowing up out of that city after a long night of being chased around and shot at made it all worth it. In the first light of dawn she could see the devastation more plainly, not by the destruction inside the dust cloud, but by the absence of large portions of the dome collapsed under its own weight or where she'd helped gravity along, further aided by the damage the CIS had done to it throughout the night. Repair that, she defiantly thought to herself while hoping that the original objective of the factories were just as damaged.

One last thing to do before they could rest though. Once again the tired Twi'lek gathered the Force into herself, expanding her perceptions out. She knew what she wanted and where it was, the Sangromancer II was out above the ecliptic plane safely waiting for her return. It was there that she folded space to for the last time that day. "Hold onto your lunch." Was all the warning she gave Sasmay before bringing the two of them to one of the ship's luxuriant guest rooms. "Fresher's that way." She pointed in case the other woman needed it for her stomach, or simply because it'd been a long night. "Feel free to wander, just stay off the command deck and out of engineering."

Leaving the other half of her team to it, Domino popped the seals on her helmet for the first time in hours to take a breath of fresh air and was greeted by the smell of baking bread. Tiredly, she discarded her armor plating for the droids to return to the armory on her way to her own room. Collapsing on her bed still wearing her undersuit, she barely gave the verbal command to lock the door before falling into an exhausted slumber. It was good to be home.

Exit
Edit: added that it was an exit post, had Sasmay's permission to pull her with me.