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Siv squeezed him past exposed wiring as the tunnel shook from nearby canon fire, raining loose ice and sediment on the Mandalorian. Though the electric sinks in his armor would disperse any shock to prevent a fatal dosage of volts, coming into contact with it would still mean a nasty sting that Siv would rather avoid.
A familiar voice surprised him when he reached the end of the tunnel, removing a loosely-sealed ventilation grate and pulling himself through the small aperture into the Mitch larger causeway. The Karjr Guildmaster — and his clan brother — was leaning against a terminal that had all the hallmarks of Mandalorian slicework. Volo offered him a hand and he accepted, using it to pull himself to his feet before he brushed off the loose gravel and ice from his shoulders.
He took a brief moment to survey the area and the hacked terminal before he gave a response to the question. “Imps are control freaks,” he remarked, brushing aside his Guildmaster to key into the terminal. “There should be some sort of control room nearby, not a central location but an outpost that is part of a relay network. They use them to keep everything on maximum lockdown.”
He frowned, though the gesture was lost under his helmet. The firewalls on the terminal had been deactivated, but he was still wary of the security network of the rest of the base. After all, they were in the middle of a war zone, with the entire planet on full alert. Should an army of stormtroopers catch a pair of snooping Mandalorians, they would have to improvise quickly to avoid a full-out firefight. “I can locate the command post, but I need you to shut down the defensive grid in the sector. Surveillance, automated doors and sentry guns, all of it. I don’t want to get cooked if we run down the wrong hallway.”
Jadwiga stood amidst the panicked and demoralized members of her crew staring into the graveyard that was jsut rendered before her. She was silent, staring. Nothing about what had just happened could have been prepared for in the academy, let alone if Alliance intelligence had no clue that it was being built. That vessel was an object created by an evil that could not be reconciled. Whomever it was that built such a thing, designed it, had to be killed with no hesitation and no judgment. There was a time for due process and trial proceedings, but what had transpired here above Ilum was beyond the pale of any reasonable military tribunal.
A junior officer brushed against her as he moved to read more damage reports and casualties. So many of her own were among the lost, her squadrons unprepared for the cataclysm that befell them. It broke her out of her silent stare. Her haemolacria was flaring up in her right eye again, but she had been weeping the whole time without knowing it. Deep down her heart burned for what she saw. The brightest flash, and then the greatest darkness. The Empire had fired such a thing without regard for any life. Their own vessels were as flotsam in the depths of space among the Alliance wreckages as well. Burning ships lurched away seeking a chance to jump out. Hulls had been splintered apart violently, the lives therein being snuffed with callous disregard.
She could hear nothing as she stood lost in her own mind. A voice pierced through the fog though, muffled at first, but louder and louder until she shook out of the haze. Jadwiga grabbed her junior officer by the shoulder a spoke with a creaking sorrow, "Damage report..." was what she managed to choke out.
"The Z-95 squadrons are reporting in after the break in communications. We are only picking up roughly 40% of them. The X-wings are down to 63% power. Every single F-29 was wiped out, and the Y-wings are regrouping at what appears to be 87%. Our ship sustained heavy damage as well. Shields held but they are down to less than half of their capacity and the hull experienced several breaches along the starboard side. Those areas have been sealed off and we think at the moment several hundred have died just on the Wildfire itself." the lieutenant related with the same type of fear in her voice. Jadwiga just nodded. There were going to be many letters penned in her hand to express her deepest sorrows to the families of the deceased. This never had to happen, and yet here th Empire was thrusting it upon the galaxy once more.
"Y-wing squadrons, gather up and initiate your bombing runs on the disabled vessels. They will be trying to rescue their own but we will not let them. If they want to unleash this kind of nightmare on the battlefield then we will fight the same way. Give no mercy and hold nothing back. The Z-95 squadrons should escort the Y-wings and the X-wings should group up with them as well. Escape pods are now targets of opportunity if you find them, as are rescue transports and medical ships." she ordered with an ice in her tone. The communications officer looked around and back at her, "Did I stutter?"
"No ma'am!" he said, as he relayed her orders.
Like that the remainder of her squadrons formed for their offensive. She had nothing left regarding th Empire. There was going to be no kindness, and certainly no quarter. They built this evil machine and they will now have to suffer for their hubris. The Y-wings formed in and began their runs, targeting the damaged support ships among the Imperial fleet. They prioritized the corvette and frigate class vessles while the escorts peeled off and engaged the TIEs that were incoming. Even now as her own crew was panicking and moving as quickly as possible she just walked back to the battle map and located the ship responsible for the mass death that just occurred. She looked aside from it, and to the flagship of the Imperial fleet. Jadwiga would remember this ship.
"You can't get away with this..." she whispered, wiping the bloody tears off of her face with a handkerchief.
"All right people!" Velran clapped his hands seeing the Imperial Superweapon wreak havoc upon the battle. Fresh from his GLORIOUS victory at the Tion Cluster, Velran was eager to seek out new challenges. The Galactic Alliance were a disappointment so far, sure one of Onanager Class Star Destroyers: The High Ground was destroyed but it was due to the ineptitude of Jaira Codi rather than him. "The superweapon is kicking the Alliance's ass! It's time for us to join in on the fun!"
The Holoprojector displayed the flickering images all of the Captains and Commanders of their respective fleets. Each expression varied from confident to worrisome watching Velran dance around the bridge of The Eggman. While they were all loyal to Admiral Kilran, many of his commanders can't help but feel that he's a bit off the wall with his demeanor. "Sooo the entire fleet is blockading Illum and we're gonna make sure those little guys trying to engage us will not pass."
Velran grabbed the cup of Coffee that was on the Holoprojector, his nose sniffing the steam that was emanating from creamy drink. "The Galactic Alliance is like a bitter cup of Black Coffee. It has no taste, no style, and it makes you feel revolted that you ever drank it! I hate it!"
"I like Black Coffee," One of his Privates said from an earshot of Velran. "Why did you bloody say that?" Commander Saxton Holographic image muttered.
"Guards," Velran called to the two Stormtroopers standing guard in the bridge. "Please remove Private Jol and send him to the brig."
Both Stormtroopers immediately grabbed the young private away from his post. Jol kicked and screamed while Velran gave a mock wave before sipping his Coffee. "But I am like the perfect Coffee!: Dantooine Coffee beans mashed up with two creams and two sugars! And like ANYONE WITH TASTE! I am the superior flavor of Coffee that everyone will buy at the shop! I've proven it at the Tion Cluster and I will prove it today!"
He took a deep breath. "While my Imperial Knight general: Sabe Aner is leading all ground troops no doubt kicking ass and taking names, I have conducted perfect plan! And we will make sure that it's executed properly Captain Codi!"
The young Captain of the High Ground stood straight, her facial scars sustained from New Aldera looked ghastly but should recover. "Y-yes sir," She stammered.
"Outstanding Captain!" Velran said. "Okay people! All Onager Class will remain at a safe distance away from the battle before I give signal to do a mini jump! I want all Star Destroyers to charge in conjunction with the Donnager class flanking from the sides to keep the GA Star Destroyers All fighters in the airspace you'll remain behind the Imperial Destroyers and begin to attack! As soon as the chaos unfolds, Onager class jump in and start shootin!"
"Sir!" Private Nua: A young human navigator said. "We have enemy fighters about to engage!"
"Show it on screen!"
Velran smiled seeing Ari Naldax
about to engage. "I remember that squadron," he smiled. "A glutton for punishment are we? Send in 2 Squadrons of TIE fighters along with Lamentation and the Tyrant. Keep them busy, this time they DON'T HAVE AN ONAGER CLASS TO FIGHT!"
The Star Destroyers and the frigates formed a line and began to advance on the Alliance. The Donnagers accelerated from the side and began to open fire at the ANV Eclipse. Finally, the 2 TIE squadron along with the two corvettes began engaging with Ari. "Time to start the party."
With a snap of his fingers, the hangar began to play one of Velran's favorite songs.
In the depths of the Galactic Underworld, the skyscrapers of Coruscant, the wartorn battlefields that plagued the Outer-Rim. The Mandalorian was there, able to capitalise off of the petulant rivalries that funnelled an endless swarm of credits into his accounts; able to retire from the bountiful wealth accured from the heartless acts, but truth be told... Fett enjoyed the violence. The satisfaction of a job well done, left to be no more than a task. Loyalties had often drawn a line in the sand, become obstacles as much as ties. Koda had no such weaknesses.
Loyalty was a commodity, able to be bought and sold.
The Empire had bought his.
"It doesn't matter," the Bounty Hunter answered the Duros in a cold and callous voice, the T-visor had not so much as shifted across as the two continued forwards. Closer to the chaos, to the violence. Either a batch of bold marines or Jedi, it hardly mattered. Jedi Killer was an apt descriptor of the Mandalorian, in the end. "Just one more set of dead men."
Cast into the thick of it, Fett nodded towards Null and beckoned the man to follow with the tilt of his helmeted head. Flames propelled him into the air and a hail of crimson blaster bolts found themselves descended on over towards Arenais while an extended left arm fired a wrist-mounted rocket at the landed shuttle.
In a Force-imbued dash, Corin slid forwards across the once-ice coated stone. Behind him, the unstable and weakened tunnel crumbled. His narrowed, focused eyes never so much as turned back to see what came of the fallen boulder, even with what amounted to his responsibilities left to the rear. Them, all of them. Best defence was an even better offence, Corin could lie with both Iris and Jand left to fend for themselves - as capable as the two were, the Padawan could not resist the notion that there skills were limited, left to border on less than what was needed in order to survive.
Call it a complex. An insult. No matter. It was his truth.
On the tail end of the sudden rush forwards, Corin leapt into what limited air space there was with all his momentum. His saber beamed blue over his shoulder, held as if a far heavier blade that Corin pulled into a slash, aimed at the midsection of the Imperial. Every intent to cleave the man in two.
So much for whatever it was Caltin said of an offer for a peaceful resolution.
The whole ship rocked with the firing on the Superweapon, and Kreg couldn't help but smile.
While yes, he was thrown to the ground by the giant eruption, the blast meant that more Jedi down on the surface of Ilum were taken out. And nothing pleased the man more than that. Not after going through what they did to his parents. It was time for the Empire to take their rightful place back on top of this galaxy. If that meant that he would get knocked down from time to time, then that was an inconvenience he was willing to deal with.
Standing back up, the Mandalorian brushed the dust off of his armor. Checking both of his blaster pistols, he saw that they were charged and ready to go. A few bodies of would-be invaders laid sprawled out on the floor a few meters away. Blood from their wounds was already piled up on the floor, and was already starting to dry. On the soldiers he found communicators, grenades, medkits, flares, blasters, and various other items. Kreg had looted all of the important items and brought them back to a makeshift armory behind a nearby wall. The Superweapon was only a few hallways down, and he was one of the many stationed to protect its room.
Raising up his blasters, he would challenge anyone that would come his way. And there was no way he was going down without a fight.
Such simple words, and from an ally. Yet they had the power to send Korvan's heart hurtling into his throat, choking the life from him, the words. His only response was a faint nod, a dip of his head that assured her he had, at the very least, heard her words. Whether he understood them remained unclear, for the Jedi Master's mind seemed even more shaken now than it had been the last time he had spoken with Valery on the topic of his former student.
Since, Korvan had faced Rakaan on New Alderaan, not a confrontation he had sought, but one that found him. In part, that had been the resolute assurance he had needed to confirm what Valery had told him. He could not run from this, Rakaan would find him, and this would come with or without his desire to avoid it - the Force would not let Korvan Toldreyn escape his past.
Such confirmation might have put him at ease - it certainly felt like it should have - especially considering when he was offered the chance, Rakaan had refused to end Korvan's life, he had been unable to take that final step. And yet there remained a twisted, horrid part of his mind that wished perhaps he had. Korvan had built a fortress of his mind, so well-defended and impenetrable that he had convinced himself of just how far gone his student was. Rakaan's refusal to take his life was a confirmation, an assurance that he could have done more.
That he should have done more.
However, this time he was not alone. Valery had come as she had always intended - but at their side stood Dagon Kaze as well. It should have been no surprise that he would join them, Korvan had known well the relationship Rakaan and Dagon had once held. Though he had never grown as close to the man as his student had, Korvan was glad he was here. It made things easier, at least somewhat. Of course, easier in this sense still felt like a rock in his chest.
The battlefield had never been Korvan's home. It should not have been home to any Jedi, and so when the battle began, when the Kandaran soldiers descended, Korvan joined the fray with a hesitance. His focus was upon protecting the others he was with, on safeguarding lives, rather than taking them. Where he could, Imperial soldiers were dispatched with non-lethal intent, wounded or knocked out, but as was always the case, there were lives taken, after all - he could not protect others if he allowed himself to fall.
His focus had been upon that defence, on serving as the shield for his allies as he searched the force for the presence of his apprentice, but that focus was stolen as he saw the shape of a digger tank coursing down the hill. It surged towards them at an intense speed, and as he followed its trajectory, he saw it heading directly for Dagon.
"Kaze!"
He called out to the Jedi, reaching out as his focus settled upon the cracked and unstable ground that surrounded them. Cracking and breaking stones from the already hollowed and quarried earth, he lifted them in jagged shapes before the vehicle. Given its size, he doubted it would stop the vehicle as it barreled down the hill, but if he could grant Dagon the time to avoid being flattened, he would.
She watched as her Padawan sped off. "And may the Force be with you, Varen." she said after him. She had faith that he would succeed or survive. But she could not help but worry.
Staying true to her part of the plan, she kept the Troopers attention to give Varen his chance to get through. When she felt the Padawan leave the area, she lifted a hand and focused her mind to let loose a blast that sent the Troopers flying in all directions.
With that, Zhea darted forward and past the knocked out Troopers. His presence had become stronger, coming toward her and what she sensed....was troubling. It was still him...but different - colder, heavier. It weighed on her as she ran.
As she rounded a corner, she caught sight of a group of Stormtroopers approaching and at their head....
Zhea skidded to a stop, saber still in hand, heart heavy.
The words splashed across Hacks' screen, to her right a monitor began streaming a live feed of the Viska drones camera. She studied the view, the drone flying far above the two Jedi. From the distance she could not make out the figures, but she knew they weren't Imperial. She had been explicit in her request. Leave me alone. She didn't like clients looking over her shoulders, nor did she tolerate interruptions. She could not completely dismiss them as non-Imperials and so instructed the drone to fly in close.
Hacks reached up and over her shoulder where cables were connected to the back of her skull, a metal plate with micro inputs enabled a hardwired line to her Aj brain implant. She curled a metal fist around the wires and yanked them loose, dropping them onto the floor. A jungle of cables lay strewn about her and the terminals.
She leaned out of her chair to reach for her carry bags, unclipping the locks and swinging open to reassure her that she had indeed brought her weapons. Two phrik blades once belonging to a now dead Jedi, and more firepower than Hacks' knew what to do with.
One moment, there was still a massive surge of energy from the modified Onager, while the Enclave ships fired with everything they had to try and shut it down. The next moment, a blinding flash of light was followed by complete silence on the bridge of the Vhipirheim as its officers stared in horror at the fallout. The same reaction on every other ship in the Enclave Navy that bore witness to the carnage.
Jos’ hand clutched at his heart as he took a step back. Death was nothing new for a Mandalorian, even the deaths of hundreds or thousands eventually ceased to bear much weight to it… but to feel tens of thousands of souls fall silent in the blink of an eye, to feel all of those voices die out through the Force in less than a second? His heart grew heavy as black eyes remained fixed on the molten debris, where thousands of souls just were a moment ago.
”Sir?”
For a few moments the Kel Dor was catatonic as he clutched his head, unable to look away from the destruction.
”Sir?!”
The voice of his officer yanked him back to reality as he took a deep breath. ”Status report.” He muttered, his gaze resting on the superweapon through the debris.
”Sir… the Rancor was caught in the beam, reactor failure… all hands lost. Several of our ships have taken damage but their shields are holding. The Imperial fleet… suffered significant friendly losses. We’re still busy analyzing the Alliance’s fleet for damage reports.” His officer spoke up with a shaky voice as he looked at his Alor.
Jos looked to him, his visor and rebreather hiding the lapse of emotion along his typically stalwart features. ”That ship can not be allowed to leave this system intact. Target it with our solar cannons, disrupt its shields and get boarding pods inside its hull.” He ordered his men just before the ship rumbled around them. Jos turned to look at another officer, who merely shrugged in response. ”No positive scans, sir. One moment we were locked on and the next-” Another rumble cut him off before he could finish. ”Shields and point defenses are holding, sir! But we don’t know where it’s coming from.”
The Kel Dor glanced at a nearby terminal showing all of the ships around them. ”Stealth ships… either the Empire has another toy in the fight… or our Elysium neighbours are testing their luck..” He muttered as he looked out of the viewport.
”Alor, Imperial reinforcements have arrived! Anaxses vessels, sir!”
A long sigh rolled through him as he looked down at the terminal. ”Spring the trap. Disrupt the Imperial lines. We must buy our allies time to recover.” He ordered as he turned to face his men. ”And as for those stealth ships, I want every scanner and sensor looking for anything out of place. Mass, radiation, energy fluctuations, everything. Use the tractor beam scanners if you have to! Order the other vessels to be on the lookout as well.” He turned to his terminal once again and opened a channel to the Alliance ships.
:: Alliance vessels, we have several wings of War Droids on standby for search and rescue assistance. We shall distract the enemy. ::
His empty visor glared at the ships ahead of him for a long moment as the deck bustled with activity. ”That chakaar has made a big mistake…” He muttered as his gaze settled on the Elysium fleet. A force user was in command there… Perhaps a visit would be beneficial.
The Enclave fleet quickly snapped out of its daze and pushed forward with their assault. The Vhipirheim took numerous hits from the unseen vessels, though the titan of a warship barely seemed to even acknowledge the attacks as flak and intercepting missiles erupted along the hull. With no hesitation, the mothership and one of the Star Destroyers, the Fury, started to scan the space around them with anything they could think of to try and find a lock. Even point defense guns firing particle bolts were combing the area, all to find a lock and pursue it with turbolaser fire. All the while, the two ships traded cannon fire with its Imperial opposition with no signs of letting up.
The solar ion cannons swiveled and locked onto the modified Onager and let loose with their powerful payload, immediately complimented by the triple-barrelled mass driver cannons firing boarding pods at its hull.
The rest of the fleet, however, kept up its assault with main guns constantly harassing the enemy… though a trick soon made its presence known. Every shot against the capital ships seemed to dislodge chunks of debris from the hulls, only for the chunks to disperse and come to life as dozens of Basilisk War Droids took off to engage the enemy. Like demons from the Nether, the Droids engaged the Elysium fighters with no quarter, using cannons and launchers and even their claws to tear their enemy apart. Their shields and durable hulls worked hard to protect them from incoming fire.
As for the Elysium fighters engaging the capital ships, a wall of particle bolts and intercepting missiles soon erected to counter their superior numbers. Three of the frigates broke off with one of the cruisers, weaving through the deadly debris field as cover while they closed the distance to the Elysian fleet. But even at range, the ships fired volleys of proton torpedoes and anti-capital missiles to draw their attention. All the while, more Basilisks broke off to try and cling to the hulls of the pocket carriers before their particle drills would attempt to tear them apart.
Masha Krayt idly checked his rifle as he waited for orders to roll out with his clan. They flourished in this kind of hell, with thick armour and powerful guns to clear the decks of ships with brutal efficiency. But apart from the other Mandalorians from different clans, one stood out to the young warrior.
”Hey, you know the ship has oxygen, right?” He quipped as he gave Minerva Fhirdiad
a slap on her pauldron. Flashing a daring grin, he slid his helmet on and jumped into a boarding pod with her. ”Don’t worry, clan Krayt’s at its best in times like this. That ship ain’t gonna stand a chance. Hell, tell you what. Bet you first round at the cantina, we’re done with it in an hour.” He challenged her as he waited for them to fly.
The boarding pods were loaded into the ammunition racks of the Vhipirheim’s mass driver cannons before getting fired at the modified Onager, transporting dozens of Mandalorians itching for a fight.
His eyes averted her own once those words settled. Rakaan let his exposed hands reach out for the thin, steel divider that separated an Imperial from life and death - a lethal fall for those less inclined to make use of the Force. In her farewell, the former Jedi nodded with all his attention returned to the battlefield below; corpses littered the mine, their screams and wails not so disimilar to the fearful terror of all that since devoured kyber. Torn out, root and stem. It was a monstrous act, one so worthy of condemnation, and yet one Rakaan could not turn from now.
It was too late. Far too late.
Rakaan inhaled and found his centre amid the storm but even that billowed with red wrath, a turbulent sea of black. He stared into the void behind his eyes as the hilt of his blade arose from the depths of his cloak and hovered out ahead of him, disassembled while Sahar carved a brutal route into the lines of the enemy. His white synthetic crystal had been removed with force, hurled far off into the distance, as a blue crystal that once called to Rakaan in these caves returned from whence it came with care. Yet before the individual materials could become reconnected and made whole, the sky itself had fallen.
He rushed a hand overhead and at once, found the rear of a small and dismembered Imperial corvette held in the air overhead. The muscles in his face twitched, from those above his brow to the ones beside his mouth. It shifted, as the individual pieces of his lightsaber wobbled with imbalance. In all his focus, the metal around him creaked and twisted, became both dented and remoulded. Rakaan waved his hand forwards and threw the shattered wreck down the middle of the endless stretch from the Imperial platform far above, it crashed into the surface and shattered into pieces, and carved a destructive path of its own, devoid of any allegiance.
The Imperial seized the reconstructed hilt and allowed it to breathe back to life. His blade returned to that Jedi blue, his Jedi blue. Yet there was little confusion once the Imperial settled himself down onto the battlefield, the cloak discarded for what seemed to be the old standard attire the once-Jedi had worn in better times. Easier times. He lashed, his hold over the hilt tensed as hands rolled further around it as Rakaan made use of it to deflect blaster fire and become a shield for the stormtroopers in the continued assault. In search of someone.
On the husk of a collapsed walker, Rakaan surveyed the area as bolts soared towards him. His saber deflected, sent to careen off into the walls more so than the soldiers themselves. His focus hardly centred on them, effortless with each movement. But one flew too close, burned too much of his arm, and all the intent behind his actions devolved into animalistic instinct. His hands outstretched with the Force bent to his will, and started to rise and for each inch of movement, the soldiers in those two squadrons had risen. Blasters had become forgotten, abandoned, and they clawed for their throats. Until Rakaan let go, a nauseating sadness filled his face as spluttered coughs marked them as alive.
There it was. That voice, buried in his mind.
Rakaan bounded into the air with the Force, sent so far as to be in line with the warriors of Kandara.
The Balac reverted to realspace engulfed in flames and alarms blaring through its bridge. Thrusters pushed to the absolute maximum as the critically damaged corvette pierced through space towards the lines of its friendly fleets.
"What the hell happened here?"
"Something tore straight through the fleets."
"All these debris-- Cap'n, you sure we can navigate through?"
"What do you think that fusion cutter for a bow does, Scrooge?"
"It's still operational?"
"Fully intact." came a voice from one of the terminals on the bridge.
"Good. Black Ice, get the men to the bay and ready yourself."
Without even acknowledging the order, the Mystril Shadow Guard shuffled towards the bridge's turbolift.
"Comms boy, get me a mayday line open on Alliance and Mandalorian frequencies right now."
"You're on, Cap."
A vocal mayday transmission would beam to the comm hubs of the ANV Lightmaker, ANV Courageous, The Vhipirheim, and their respective commanders - Liedran Kathause
, Pa'Kar Sang, Jos Krayt
.
:: This is Captain Iago Rekali of the mining corvette Balac speaking -- we need to immediately dock for repairs, repeat -- immediate dock for repairs. Our vessel has been crippled by an upcoming Imperial flotilla and our life support systems are on the brink of complete failure!! Repeat -- requesting immediate dock for repairs. Please respond! ::
A scan of the Balac would validate his words as it would its Clan Beroya transponder.
"Couldn't have guessed. Better than the Maw, atleast." he spoke with an easy surety, leaving the obvious unsaid. It wasn't hard to be more ethical than nihilistic savages."Haatyc or'arue jate'shya ori'sol aru'ike nuhaatyc."
You could see the Empire, hear their armour clanking from ten klicks out. You could predict them, avoid them, subvert them. The best you got with the Maw was time enough to mobilise a quick response force to intercept them, and tell the civilians to start praying. It'd be a lie to say Volo was putting continued efforts into establishing a network within the Maw.
They were a constant problem, but one for another time. The Empire held his near-undivided attention for the time being; an accomplishment given how he seemed to wake each morning with a new problem.
Or a dozen.
"It'll be down in five mikes, and with more subtlety than that Vlemoth Port job." the Guildmaster's tone was humorous, though it was nearly lost in his natural stoicism.
Truth be told, Volo was hardly a master slicer. he'd only had the bare basics prior to joining the Karjr, and even then a majority of the training was only being implemented on account of the guilds formalisation. Still, if the defense grid's security was anything like the maintenance terminal's then it shouldn't prove a problem.
He took a short few steps forward, clapping his clan-brother on the shoulder and peering at the map on the terminal screen, finding his target before releasing the grip. His hands working a practised motion as a man-sized rift appeared against the wall, one of the more utilitarian uses of the Amulet of Many. He took a first step towards the portal, pausing just an inch it, and turned back to utter a well-wish.
"K'oyacyi, ner vod."
And with those three words, Volo was gone and the portal with him. Admittedly, he was off by a fair margin; stepping out of the portal he had to duck behind a corner and into a service corridor, loosing a silent sigh of relief as the patrol marched past, none the wiser. Without dwelling on the philosophical implications such a close-call may've normally inspired, the Guildmaster pulled his Anti-Security blade from his belt and once-more activated the Deathseeker Code.
He stepped into the hallway, setting the frequency on the blade and aiming it at the nearest security cam- shorting it out for a brief few seconds; it wasn't long but it was ample time for the invisible man to aim the accompanying Sonic Servodriver at the door he had pushed himself up against. The metal door hissed open in the blink of an eye, and closed behind Volo just as fast. He hit the door lock behind him, powering over to the terminal.
Wasting no time, for every moment was precious, he slipped the Anti-Security Blade back into its place on his belt and pulling a datapad out in its stead. Hooking it up to the computer, he began slicing. The firewall, rather resolute for such a terminal, cracked within a few moments of the slice starting with no small-effort being imposed on the Guildmaster.
Staring at the unlocked terminal, which presented him with a number of options to control the security relative to the command posts' area, he settled on a less tactful approach. Having deactivated all the security systems within the vicinity of the terminal, he aimed the Sonic Servodriver at it and locked it, buying the Dragr Duo a few more minutes even if their interference was discovered.
Putting the datapad and servodriver back in their respective pouches, he formed another rift and returned to his clan-brother. He was a minute or two past his self-imposed deadline, and announced by the faint crackle of the portal opening and closing. His presence was a good indicator of success, though a sharp nod would confirm it.
Invasion of Ilum Mercian Squadron
Mission #2 +Zeke - Brown
+Kenth - Orange
+Carmine - Green
+Felix -Blue
In the depths of the tunnels, a steel bridge lay untouched in the midst of the battle. Why is it so important you may ask? because it was a direct link for empire reinforcements to rally with their knights. High command has recognised this and sent a commando squadron to stop the enemy forces in their tracks. If they did this, who knew what it would do for the men and women up top.
A puff of smoke came from behind a tipped mining hover truck as everything was quiet and calm. Zeke threw the cigara to the floor and stamped on it as he looked over the edge of the bridge to see how Kenth was doing with the explosives <<"Status?">> he said quietly into his comm system. Kenth in the meantime was busy army the 6th charge of the afternoon, his face concentrating to make sure he was arming it correctly <<"Three more after this one, shouldn't take long...">> he replied, before hearing a beep that indicates the charge he was setting was ready to blow.
In more ways than one, he didn't want to stay on here any longer. Climbing below a bridge above an endless abyss of darkness was something anyone would be uncomfortable with.
"<<Make haste, we don't kn-"<<"Sir, we have contacts across the bridge, a whole company of them. Looks like they came earlier than expected">> Carmine explained as he lay on top of another tuck to the right of Zeke. The sniper had a good view of the bridge ahead, and in his sights was a big line of flamethrowers that were going to be a problem if they got close <<"Fantastic... be prepared to make contact. Felix, status?">> Felix wasn't a demolition expert by any means, but he did know his weapons enough to cause some damage. He was just ahead of the rest behind a storage container, his eyes peering over it <<"Ready...">>
"<<Copy, engage the flamers at the front first. Knocking them out of the equation first will be beneficial. From there, we will need to hold them off until Kenth has set the charges.>>" There was no way they were going to take the entire company by themselves. They'd need to blow them up along with the bridge to do that...
"<<Engage engage>>," Zeke said after a few moments of silence, his body peering around the truck to fire a burst into the first line. In the meantime Felix and Carmine dropped the flamers with a mixture of explosions and sniper. Before long they had dropped motionless on the floor, allowing them to focus their sights on the next line of troops with another burst of blaster fire.
The defense was frantic, blaster-fire pierced the tunnel with glowing bolts of plasma, and the Padawans behind the forward line began to scramble or break off into different directions. That helped the distribution of blaster shots, certainly, but it also meant that the Jedi present had to confront threats that pursued or targeted them - and that meant the front line wasn't as effective, as the trooper's attacking began to spread out.
Jand held his own, as he crouched low and weaved through the deadly blaster-fire. His lightsaber swatted at the bolts, still, as he deflected them away while remaining aware of where his foremost companions were. Both Corin and Iris could be found on to the Nagai's side, as he had the tunnel wall to his right; and that allowed him less chance of stepping in their way, though Jand's combat awareness was above-average, and his upbringing with bladed weaponry allowed for precision.
There would be no fumbling over his fellow Padawans.
Iris suddenly called out, to which Jand gave a grim nod, and began to... open his mind. He was still new to the lessons in the Force, his understanding had only - really - started to develop since his arrival at the Jedi Temple some six months prior, so he did his best. Unsure of what Iris planned, Jand was still willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, especially as the mysteries of the Force were nearly endless and she may well have a technique to utilize for the engagement.
"Yes, I will," Jand responded, as he spun on the balls of his feet and swiped low at some more blaster bolts. "And it seems the other--"
- Danger -
The warning was felt more than heard, but gave Jand very little time to react, as a wrist rocket was sent toward the group. The sentient responsible had been the same with the dagger prior, the one who had addressed the Padawans when the trooper unit appeared. It stood to reason he may have been the leader, and now sought to explode the tunnel itself--
"Move!"
--the explosive impacted against dark rock. Jand dove forward, toward the aggressor who fired. There was heat, shards of metal and debris, smoke and fire. And then rocks that fell, before finally a boulder dislodged and tumbled into the passage. With a grimace, Jand felt pain along his right side, as he had been closer to the rocket impact; he didn't have time to check or focus on the injury, however, as he faced an enemy.
Corin jumped toward the trooper leader, intent on bisecting the opponent.
Jand began to move forward, closing the gap to both Corin and trooper, as he reached down and adjusted the intensity of the training blade. It wouldn't have the cutting power of a personal lightsaber, but that wasn't the concern, nor did the trooper necessarily know that. And timing his own attack, the Nagai waited for Corin's strike to land - irrespective of impact or deflection - and would leap sideways over the human Padawan's head to deliver an immediate followup slice with his own lightsaber at the opponent's upper body!
With luck, the trooper leader would react as though the training blade was a typical one, which may very well provide an opening for the others... but not before Jand gave an unpleasant smirk and stated:
"Who are you? I want to know the name of the sentient I'm going to kill."
Something seemed off about the drill. Julius had only half been listening to Calix of Thyrsus as he responded to him, his attention broken. Was it a feedback from the kyber strip mining that was causing echoes in the Force? Was it just paranoia setting in? As his mind searched the litanies within it to try and suss out a cause that fit, his eyes closed softly, and he held up a single finger, then a clenched fist. The strike team stopped, looking at the Jedi Master. Calix would feel the Force swell and grow around the Corellian.
Suddenly his eyes snapped open, and he barked out an order to take cover. He was across the passage from his Padawan, near the drill. Suddenly the Force rippled, and he was standing between Calix and the drill, his arms crossed in an X over his chest a split second before the drill erupted in hellfire. The ziedrich shield of his Jedi armor flared to life in a corsucating hemisphere in the direction of the explosion, the combined shield generator flaring to life as he stepped between his padawn and danger, but not preventing some heat from the explosion singing and scoring his armor and robes, the blast making him grimace as he strained to hold his ground until it passed.
At the end of it, the shield flickered and faded, and Julius remained a mere step in front of Calix, where he had been several, forced to his knees by the strain and sweat beading his brow. But as his eyes opened, they first sought out his learner, and the slow drawl of his voice was clipped with concern as he rose immediately, silver-green blade hissing to life in his hands, the single-handed saber sweeping to a defensive guard.
"You alright boy? Squad check in, defensive positions, all who remain."
Varm Nul followed Fett around the corner into the hangar, and it was one hell of a scene.
An enemy shuttle had - literally - crashed into the bay, where it had slid to a stop, and a number of opposing forces had ejected themselves from within. Varm Nul spied Jedi, or at least lightsabers, as well as soldiers from the Galactic Alliance. The Stormtroopers that remained and stood their ground in the hangar itself were dispersed into groups and tried to form defensive lines, though it was clear some backup was needed.
"Better call for some reinforcements," Varm Nul said to a nearby trooper, as he followed Fett into the battle space. "Maybe some of those specialists units."
In between blaster shots, the Stormtrooper scoffed, but there was a comlink call made moments later.
Meanwhile, Varm Nul's companion took to the sky, and began to unleash hell from above. To which the Duros remained on the ground and began to weave between the arrayed Stormtroopers, having no scruples about using their armored forms for passing cover as he moved. With his LL-30 Blaster Pistols emitting the unique high-pitched scream with the volley of incredibly accurate bolts he fired, Varm Nul began to focus on the special ops troopers that were exiting the vessel.
Which, it turned out, said vessel had a rocket from Fett fired directly at it.
Varm Nul smirked, as he continued to lay down rapid but accurately sustained fire, particularly aiming for the soldier's more vulnerable spots, as the blaster-fire raked across their ranks... but he was also aware of the three Jedi that wielded lightsabers, and ensured to maintain his distance for the moment.
Sylus should have been in the caves, as ISB command had ordered. Neutralising the future core of the Jedi Order with explosives, guns and blades. Sylus knew a thing or two about that.
But he was out here in the cold, on the slopes of a broken mountain, in the middle of a real battlefield, hunting Jedi again. Who would have thought?
Certainly not Sylus. The operative withdrew his machete from the sternum of the Alliance soldier he just killed, looking at the blade. Old reliable, awash in red. He wondered what the blade would say if it saw him back at it again.
No time to ponder. The CompForce assault group he had been supposed to lead into the caves had crashed here as well when the transport they had hitched a ride on had been intercepted, crashing into the middle of the battlefield. Bureau should have planed him with SCAR, but too late to worry about that now.
Sylus brushed the ash off his armour as he looked around the battlefield, trying to catch side of the CompForce detachment with him. Most were still alive, and they quickly formed up around him, gathering near the smoking corpse of a giant walker. The one thing the CompForce never lacked for was bodies, and he would need a lot of them. He recognised some of the soldiers; veterans of dozens of ISB ops, while others were fresh-faces zealots only recently graduated from an academy. How many would survive this day?
They followed him as he ordered them forward through the battlefield, into the thick o it. Stuck far away from the Scar, he would revert to back-up objective: Hunt Jedi.
Sylus had already spotted several; a one-armed warrior and a young Padawan, cutting their way through an entrenched position. As he watched from his vantage points, the Jedi and their soldiers entered to secure the trenches.
"Move up the left side and swarm them when I give the order."
The ISB operative disappeared into the snow and the chaos of the battlefield, moving from cover to cover as he traversed downslope, keeping an eye on the trench system while the CF assault group moved up on the left. He made sure to keep his Force Suppression active, mentally pressing down and locking up the 'spark' in his mind. The last thing he needed was to be sensed by a Jedi before he got off a good shot.
"The Zeroth Axiom, trainee."
"Our tools and gifts were bestowed to be used."
"Damned right! You have each suffered so much under our tender hands. Your minds, your souls, have been moulded into the premier killing machines of the Sith Empire. You were given The Gift to be used. Such a rare and precious thing..." the trainer trailed off, bloodshot eyes staring into space. "One that the old Lords would have done anything to obtain... drank the blood of a hundred species, burned entire worlds, flayed the flesh from a thousand Jedi..."
His stare turned downwards, locking eyes with each of the Gamma trainees. "So you'd better use it before The Masters decide they can make better use of it."
Sylus stopped as he slipped into cover, keeping low amidst the ongoing blaster fire back and forth. The Jedi were conversing, now constricted inside the trench, surrounded by debris and unexploded ordnance. His enhanced senses picked out details around them; flametrooper ordnance scattered near concentrations of their Alliance soldiers. Exposed fuel cells and the innards of blasted walkers were strewn across the battlefield.
Sylus sized up the situation and raised his LS-1 Angry Owl Light Sniper Rifle, firing a single shot, penetrating and detonating one of the fuel cells. A chain reaction detonated plasma coils, fuel cells, and sent the trench up in flame, superheated plasma vented directly into the trench and several of the Alliance soldiers, melting them alive as they screamed in pain. Even with his Force Suppression he could feel the pain radiating off them/
"Indirect attacks extend the engagement time. Civilians, Padawans, their soldiers; strike where the enemy is weak, and those three I named are a hell of a lot weaker than the Jedi. Force them to practice their self-sacrificing tenets, and you will break the enemy."
"Assault Group, move in."
Dozens of CompForce troopers rushed towards the Jedi down the trenches not bathed in explosive plasma, heedless of the danger. They clashed with the remaining Alliance soldiers, the rest shooting in the general direction of the Jedi. With that much volume of fire even a Jedi was in danger.
Sylus fell to his knees, his face bruised and broken. He could feel the bones cracking and mending as the unnatural alcehmical enhancements in his blood stitched his body back together. Rained mixed into his wounds as he struggled to speak. "There was... too many, master." "Then you now know the importance of overwhelming odds. Even a Jedi cannot survive against a torrent of enemies. A numerical application of the Zeroth Axiom."
The operative followed up, firing at the abandoned explosive ordnance nearest to the Jedi and at them before disappearing from visual contact, moving down into the trench. He dropped the sniper rifle, putting on his vibroknucklers. He prepped a Sonic Detonatorin one hand and crept down the connecting trench into the fray.
The stun bolt hit him square in the chest, and he felt his heart go cardiac arrest a second before the unnatural chemicals in his blood squeezed tight and forced it back into movement. As he lay slumped against the scorching sand, he heard the instructors:
COMPNOR:\No. 35089\defend quadrant 42_
Ilum. A beautiful world if any.
A planet meant to belong to the Jedi for decades and decades, generations and generations. Centuries of cavities made by the excavation devices in an unstoppable rumbling throughout the galleries. A sanctuary for the New Jedi Order and, before, the New Jedi Order. An important place in the Force, according to the Light Side of it, what was a vital world for the Galactic Alliance.
Dokal breathed in the freezing air of the corridor. She had been charged to defend part of the digging complex, as a couple of other independent agents from the COMPNOR. The Alliance had just discover the Imperial fleet and its contingent of mining drones, here to lead a coup-de-poing assault within the Jedi property. Dokal had always followed the New Imperial Order since the annihilation of Csilla caused by the Maw but, after the loss of the New-Imperial territories within the Chiss Space and the Reclamation led by Faraak from the Redoubt to Nirauan, the agent started to put in doubt the Galactic Empire's behaviour. Since her admission within the IMPSOC, it was the first time that Dokal was about to criticise the actions of the Empire. This isolationist policy wasn't a good choice made by Rurik Fel -- who took several wrong decisions, according to her --, and the newly-formed Triumvirat, accompanied by the Heir to the Empire, couldn't be called stable at all.
In her comlink, the other agents in her zone were calmly talking about what they did in the few days they had got on Bastion to rest before the next mission. No one of them was Chiss. An unfounded rumour had been saying that a newly Ascendancy had been created in the Unknown Regions, following the battle upon Noris. Maybe they all went in this part of the Galaxy to found their counterparts. Or maybe the Empire was trying to destroy what linked all the Chiss -- a common culture. Anyway, this battle was about to be mad. The Alliance Fleet had surely come to Ilum after the alert. And now, Core's scumbags were about to come to the digging areas.
"Their knights will find us first -- she will make sure of it."
Valery tilted her head slightly as she looked at Dagon, who felt very different from what she was used to. He didn't look her way at all and instead had a focus of steel turned to something else. A fallen brother, a woman he once held close — this was likely no easy place for him to be, but Valery was confident that he'd hold his own despite the opponents they might confront here today. The Force had brought him here, and he'd never give up or back down, even if it cost him his life.
Similarly, she felt a conflict within Korvan as well. She didn't know him the way she knew Dagon, but she understood the bond between a Master and Padawan very well, and that alone made this entire mission difficult. Whether they needed it or not in the end, she was going to be here as a pillar of support to get them through this.
"Then we let them come," Valery finally said before she drew the two hilts of her lightsabers into her hands, tapped the activation switches, and watched the purple plasma ignite. Much like Korvan, she moved with a focus to protect her allies and tried to prevent unnecessary loss of life whenever she could. But the intensity of the battle was growing quickly, and with other Force users approaching them, she knew it wasn't going to be viable for much longer.
"Kaze!"
Valery heard Korvan call out and turned her body to look in their direction. A massive vehicle was moving rapidly downhill towards Dagon, and judging by the presence she felt inside, she already had a feeling as to who it was. With Korvan trying to buy Dagon time, Valery was about to shift her focus elsewhere before she noticed another problem. The extra weight of the vehicle near the edge was causing the ice to crash heavily around her allies. Even if they stopped the tank from running into Dagon, it seemed unlikely they'd be able to stay up there.
"Watch out! The ice!" Valery exclaimed before she sprinted over towards them, hoping to help or go after them if she couldn't make it in time.
Volo Dragr
