Into Darkness (Firemane)

[Karrigan'Xalda]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]


A curtain of mist had formed in front of the advancing allied troops, courtesy of Xalda's manipulations. It had covered their approach to an extent. Of course, infrared could see through it and many of the sharpshooters could use the Force to sense their prey. The Cataphracts had surged through the rain in a surge of exhaust, smoke trailing behind. They were big, obvious targets - and thus on what many of the Dominion troopers focused their fire on when the giants flew towards them. They were also kitted out in Power Armour and armed with an imposing array of weapons. Where they levelled their guns, they fashioned hell. The slug salvoes were more of a nuisance to them.

Behind them came the Silencers. Spreading out to provide support, they snipd enemies. Their stealthy armour and concealment helped them avoid detection. Still, allied soldiers fell. Xalda moved with them. She lacked a laser sword of her own, though she knew of these weapons from observation. Perhaps if she served her well on the field of death, the Karishzar would find her worthy of having such a weapon bestowed upon her.

Instead she carried a Sith sword. Slamming her fist into the ground, she produced a concussive wave that rippled across the ground to blow away a machine gun nest. All seemed to be going well. Then a hail of arrows shot through the air. Cataphract was struck. Needless to say the arrows did not penetrate his armour. Indeed, they shattered upon contact. But then she suddenly jerked as a huge surge of electricity coursed through her body. Not content with cooking her inside her armoured suit, the lightning spread. Acting akin to chain lightning, it arced over to nearby soldiers.

Struck by a bolt Xalda staggered. She dropped to a knee, breathing in. Cursing in Xio, she fed on her pain. Ahead of them a phalanx of armoured warriors wearing resplendent armour beneath Jedi robes, carrying longswords or halberds clashed with the Cataphracts. The ferocity of their assault had caused allied troops to be pushed back. They were losing ground to the enemy's relentless onslaught. Saito was up ahead, yelling commands and organising the counterattack. The Xioquo felt the spirits yell a warning and bolted, pushing the Panathan away before an arrow could strike her. Xalda grit her teeth, a small barrier of earth rising up to shield them, just as a rocket propelled grenade shot through the air.

There was no time for thank yous. "Silencers, back up the Cataphracts," Saito ordered. "Suppress, contain. Kobayashi, suppressive fire on the archers. Xalda, you with me?" she shook the Xioquo. Xalda's head had taken a hit.

"Yes," the Xioquo's pointed ears were ringing from the explosion. Pain was a path to enlightenment. She could not drown in it. She would swim.

"On your feet, soldier." Saito's Panathan accent was thick. Threads of power connected the Jedi warriors. Threads she could perceive. They went further back until all she saw was a void. But seeming absence of a presence still left ripples. The tell-tale signs of a buried presence. There was also another powerful presence closer to the forefront of battle, a Jedi warrior tearing through allied soldiers. A strong thread bound them. The bond seemed strongest there. Perhaps it would create a weakness if they cut the thread. "There's a powerful presence boosting them in the field. I'll go for him."

"This one will help!" Xalda insisted. Bullets were flying around her.

"No, go for that one. Think they're linked. Hold the line," the Panathan pointed a gauntlet-covered finger at the warrior. With that said, Saito activated her cloaking device, vanishing from sight. She also faded from Xalda's Force Senses, having wrapped an ethereal cloak around her presence. Xalda arose, a fire in her eyes.

Up ahead of her the allied forces clashed with the Ever Loyal Vanguard. The Cataphracts were far from inexperienced in fighting Force-Users. Their Ironside Power Armour gave them incredible strength and they carried sturdy battle shields. Their bolters belched heavy slugs and explosive bolts, while torrents of scalding heat emanated from their flamers. Up close their Sarixi blades and Sarzmigar polearms clashed with the enemy. A Warsinger inspired the Cataphracts acts of valour, chanting a song of honour and glory and reminding them that Kashara and her Radiant Daughter stood with them. Steeled by their burning faith and the example of their ancestors, the Qadiri did not yield. A vicious melee ensued as they clashed with the Jedi Vanguard. Huge Phrik hammer in hand, Sergeant Azadi Jai Avesta broke the arm of a Jedi charging her. The Silencers were backing them up, stunning or Force suppressing Jedi where possible or putting them under fire with precise sniping. But great power and fervour filled the phalanx of Jedi warriors. Warrior-priests of the Dominion, sworn to the cause of the Light unto death, they fought as ferociously as Yazgid. All Vanguards drew strength from each other, fighting as part of a greater whole. Their bodies were empowered by the Force, allowing them to endure great physical damage. Their minds were steeled by unerring zeal, amplifying their focus and willpower.

Xalda moved quickly. She needed to act. Lives were being lost. Even if some of them were Qadiri. After having fought for so long, her body was getting tired. She was running on adrenaline, determination and the power of the spirits. Rain soaked her armour. The Xioquo broke into a sprint, wrapping the power of the spirits around her like a cloak to keep her Force presence from being detected too soon.

Darting forward, she saw her quarry cutting through allied lines. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the red-maned human face off against two of the Jedi warriors. Focusing on her own target, Xalda harnessed the power of the spirits, dropping her cloak in the process. She lacked the strength to both utilise her powers while obfuscating herself at the same time.

In the same moment as the Jedi warrior clove through a Republican Guard with his enchanted sword, Xalda drew upon her gift of earth. Her lips moved, whispering an incantation. The plants and roots heeded her call. Rising from the earth, they sought to ensnare the Jedi. At the same time small spiked formed, trying to strike the Jedi while the plants sought to seize him with great force. Grabbed by the vines, the Jedi tried to fight off the ensnarement by hacking away at plants. Xalda poured more energy into the attack, seeking to tighten the plants' grip and envelope her enemy's limbs. Then she perceived a bright, white glow on her opponent's sword. A blast of blinding, holy light erupted from the Jedi towards her. She called upon her power in defence - and felt a searing pain.

Meanwhile, Saito had moved into position. The caster had concealed themselves, but she had followed the ripples. Little did the Panathan know that the Jedi Commander was a clone from the same line as Diona. Her name was Diane. The Panathan was close enough to feel her presence; how she filled the Vanguard with strength and vigour. Saito took cover behind some rocks. The Panathan was not capable of performing many of the feats that were so common among Force-Users. When she concentrated very hard, she was just about capable of lifting a small pebble. Every Master of the Force faced a choice between 'throwing stones' and 'reading ripples', between 'listening' or 'shouting all the time'. She had traded raw power for the ability to listen. That was what had led her to the caster. The energies of the Force writhed inside her.

This would be a long game. She needed to keep the Jedi Commander from casting. Crouching, she took aim. She raised the electronic sights of her rifle to her eye. Completely silent, it fired projectiles at high-velocity. For backup, she carried two sidearms. The Force enhanced her accuracy. Her breathing slowed, she took aim and squeezed the triggers. With luck, she would get a good shot at the caster, or distract her at least. She squeezed the trigger, firing. Saito ducked back into cover. Just a mili-second before her presence faded from sight once more, a powerful telekinetic wave rippled from the presumably injured caster...

 

[Tempest]

[member="Laira Darkhold"] [member="Glory"]

The forest started to give way to water as Tempest’s transports disgorged their cargo of war machines. There was a good chance the enemy knew they were coming, and so it was time to push quickly.

Massive Gehenna tanks, each one of them a hovering behemoth of weapons and armour, moved and started to skim over the water. Behind them came the Yazgid transports, the IFVs of the infantry. Comms signals told Tempest her other troops were in place, and that now it was time to move.

Naturally, their presence had not gone undetected for long. It was nearly a mile of alternating water and swamp between the shore and the camp. Over all of that they were in the open. A buzz of activity at Serene Springs signified their spotting. Swiftly more primitive artillery and vehicles were moved into position with barrels pointing at the water. That, though, was where Jazan came in.

As the first shells started to fall Mirage Squadron struck from the skies. With missiles, blaster and bombs they first targeted the camp’s anti-air before starting to switch to the ground defences. It would take time to neutralise though, and the return fire was heavy.

Tempest meanwhile had been taking in the view on board the lead tank of the 1st Firemane Armoured Regiment. It gave a good view whilst also allowing her to direct fire. However, shots were landing near, and one splashed her with a fountain of water. Cursing, she dried her face and slammed down her helmet.
“Tanks, concentrate on their emplacements on the shore. Do not bombard the main buildings. Infantry, maintain a distance of 500 metres behind the tanks.” The Yazgid were good transports, but they lacked the sheer brutal toughness of the tanks.
“Major, you’ve got incoming surface craft,” Jazan hailed her.
Tempest looked about and saw them. A collection of surface craft coming in from the east. A couple were patrol boats, but also many smaller craft. Some were packed with troops, some seemed empty aside from a crewman or two.
“Deploy screen. Infantry, move up three IFVs and give flanking fire. Deploy Strikers when possible. All tanks, concentrate firepower on the larger ships. Try and shoot down those little boats. Cataphracts, give some fire support.”

XXX

Meanwhile, the infantry screen to the north and west had dug in as best as possible, using their Yazgids as mobile fortresses to protect against enemy attacks. They were, for now, unobserved. However, this quickly vanished when a couple of important looking vehicles made to leave Serene Springs.
Captain Lazerus, the commander in that section of the line, waited until they came very close before opening a devastating fire on them. The light, civilian vehicles fell apart before the untender caress of the laser cannons and rotary shattercannons. In seconds they were reduced the burning wrecks. When a dazed survivor stumbled towards them a bolter round popped the bureaucrat like a balloon. The few survivors quickly fled back, but few made it.
“Ma’am, attempted break out neutralised. Looks like elites making a run for it, but they know we’re here now.”
“Understood, Captain, maintain vigilance against further attempts. If they get desperate they might try to smuggle out hostages or intel.”

XXX

Finally there was the question of the rogue Dominion forces. As Jedi Kyrric watched he had seen the outsiders taking position to block access and ingress to the camp. He ordered his forces to deploy back hidden in the forest whilst he used the vox-com to contact his Master.
When Mahtara heard what he had to say she let out a ‘hmm’. He could not see her, but knew she was thinking deeply.
“What do you assess of the outsiders’ strength, Jedi Kyrric?”
“They are hidden, but my scouts report their floating tanks and jetpack soldiers are moving from the water. They are not attacking here.”
“A screening force then. This may work to our advantage. If they break in we will lose what little chance we have of evening the odds. Deploy a diversion and then punch through with your vehicles. Make it appear like you are reinforcements. And then….”
“Master, I am troubled by this.”
A deep sigh from Mahtara. “These are troubling times, Jedi Kyrric. Do not relent. Only through sacrifice is a Jedi’s service made. Strike quickly and bring me what is required to end this war.”
“I…will obey, Master.”
With a heavy heart, the Jedi organised his forces to the big push….

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Tempest"], [member="Laira Darkhold"]

((Because this post would not make much sense otherwise, I'm treating Tempest's attack in the preceding post as something that happened at the end of this one)).

She was drowning. Her muscles strained against the tight grip that kept her submerged in cold water. It was futile. A few prescious gulps of air escaped her in small bubbles as she fought and wriggled with all the strength her tired body could muster. It was cold, so frakking cold. It was dark and cold and terrible, and the girl struggled to regain a sense of control. She fought the urge to exhale and keep the precious drops of air in her lungs.

The pain in her chest became a terrible, crushing weight. Unbidden, air began slipping out of her mouth in a rush, and the girl found herself helpless to stop it as bubbled up, away from her lungs, taking her life along with it. She knew she was suffocating, and it more terrifying than anything she had ever imagined. Her body began thrashing violently, struggling to push up, to reach a surface that seemed impossibly out of reach. She never reached it. The grip tightened even further, too strong for her failing limbs to fight against. Her mouth opened against her will, though she knew it meant certain death. She tried to scream, to shout, to give voice to the agony that was overcoming her, but water rushed in.

Before the darkness took her, she heard a voice. "Elpsis!" It sounded like Diona. Then she beheld an image, of a lady taller than any man, with long scarlet hair and eyes, standing above her. For just a moment, the iron grip was gone. The Red Lady stretched out her hand. Elpsis tried to grasp it, but then she was pushed down. The lady vanished, so did Diona's voice. Water flooded her mouth, running down her throat. It choked the life out of her. Darkness swallowed her...

Roxane awoke with a start. She was bathed in cold sweat, panting. It took her a while to realise that she was lying in her bed - in the room the Inquisition had given her. She was not drowning. She was safe. It had just been a dream. No, it had been the work of the Dark Side. Even now it was trying to manipulate her and turn her away from the one true path. She shivered, feeling cold despite the blankets wrapped around her.

"There is no emotion, there is calm.
There is no ignorance, there is obedience.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is order.
There is no death, there is the Light."

Trying to regain her calm, she repeated the mantra, but the words brought her no peace. She would resist the darkness inside her. The alarm rang. It was time to do her chores. She stretched and got up, wincing in pain from her leg injury. It had never really healed. Standing a bit shakily, she composed herself. With some effort, she got dressed, then washed herself and got to work. Repentant like her got cleaning duties.

Time passed, and Repentant Helena came to her while she was sweeping the bunk of one of the Jedi. "Hey, Roxane," her fellow Repentant said in a warm tone, but then the girl perceived concern in her aura. "Are you alright? Inquisitor Lea sent me to fetch you."

"I'm OK. Just had some trouble sleeping," Roxane assured her. It was technically lot a lie. She was just wrestling with her inner darkness. "What does the Inquisitor require of me?" she asked submissively.

"The Grand Inquisitor just landed. He's come to visit us. Come on." Helena sounded enthusiastic.

"Are you sure it would be right for me to, uh, be there? After all I...Elpsis did..."

Helena took her hand gently. "Whatever you did, you're one of us now. The Grand Inquisitor is a good man. A man of the people. He looks out for the Repentant. Many of us end up working for him. Come on." Her enthusiasm was infectious and Roxane relaxed.

By the time they arrived there was already a lot of commotion on the landing pad. Inquisitor Lea, Diona and various other Jedi had assembled. There were also a few Repentant. Jedi Inquisitors in battle armour armed with Force imbued swords flanked the shuttle Grand Inquisitor Antonius descended from. He was a tall man with sharp features, a small, neatly trimmed pointed beard on his chin, and dark hair with threads of grey running through it. He wore a pair of grey robes. All bowed before him. He inclined his head slightly, then bid them to rise. A female Rattataki Jedi Padawan followed him. She looked young, perhaps even a bit younger than Roxane.

"Grand Inquisitor, your visit honours us. Welcome to Serene Springs," Inquisitor Lea spoke obediently.

"It is I who is honoured by having such devoted Inquisitors," he responded graciously. "It is you who combat the infidel in our midst - and make them see the Light. The Grandmaster has authorised me to express his satisfaction in your work." His eyes fell upon Diona for a moment. "Jedi Diona, it is good to see you are well. We will need all the Jedi warriors we can get in the struggle to come."

"Yes, Grand Inquisitor. If I may there is a..."

"In a moment," he said softly, yet firmly. He walked past them, stopping to exchange a few words with every Jedi until he stood before the Repentant. Roxane tried to resist the urge to fidget. "There is more joy in the Light over one sinner who repents, than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance. You were swallowed by Darkness, but found the strength to turn away. Your devotion to the Light is the stronger for it, my children. You are proof that salvation is available for all who seek it." He exchanged some words with a few of them, including Helena, who stammered when she responded. Then suddenly he stood before Roxane.

"Our newest sister in the Light, Grand Inquisitor," Lea spoke.

"Ah, you must be Jedi Roxane, who I have heard so much about. It is good to finally see you in the flesh," the Grand Inquisitor said. His voice was kindly. Why did he put her on edge then? Why did his aura cause discomfort in her?

"It is an...honour to meet you, Grand Inquisitor," she said nervously.

"No need to be anxious, child. We are as close to family as anyone in the order." She shook his hand. He held on to it for longer than seemed appropriate, stroking it. "Did you know that it was I who orchestrated your liberation? Treasonous forces in our own government conspired to sell us out to the Sith. But the Inquisition thwarted their vile plot - and saved your soul at my behest. You are, in the truest sense of the word, my creation." His grip was possessive.

"I am...very grateful for the chance to serve the Light."

"I know you will be a great asset for the cause. I look forward to continuing your training."

"Sir, I wanted to discuss our wartime deployment," Diona interjected. He let go of her hand. Roxane felt grateful.

"We've already discussed this, Jedi Diona," Lea spoke harshly, but the Grand Inquisitor silenced her with a wave.

"Peace, Inquisitor," he said.

"The enemy draws closer. We've received reports of ships approaching and the Battlemaster has betrayed us. I would like to take a unit to the frontlines to meet them and aid my Jedi brethren and sistren. Some of the Repentant should join us. Jedi Roxane would be a great asset. She would be a formidable force of the Light," Diona spoke, tone firm.

"I want to fight the invaders, Grand Inquisitor. I brought destruction to this world, I want to atone."

"Your heart yearns to cross blades with the demons and infidels. It is a desire I can well understand. You will get your chance...in time. But first there are some matters we set right here. Come with me." They fell in line. "Meet my newest acolyte," said, pointing to the Rattataki. "Her name is Rhea."

"Honoured to meet you," the girl said stiffly. Emotionlessly. She was buttoned up tight, but her aura could not fully hide her discomfort.

They walked towards a building. "Have there been any disturbances?" the Grand Inquisitor asked Lea.

"A prisoner has confessed to conspiracy. Her confederates will be arrested and given the treatment. Preparations have been made to evacuate the camp," his subordinate responded as they entered a hall.

"Good. It is a pity that some of the inmates do not appreciate all that we have done for them. The Dark Side is insidious. But what is even worse is the fact that some of our Inquisitors stray from the path and try to corrupt those under their protection."

Roxane heard a cry of pain. It all happened in a blur. Next thing she knew, Diona was on the ground with a stun dart embedded inside her neck. "Do you anything to say, Jedi Diona?" With a grunt the Jedi guardian pulled out the dart and drew her sword. Roxane stood and watched as the renegade Jedi defended herself. She did so fiercely. Two guards went down and a third was maimed. She fought with the Force, her blade, her fists until both Masters overpowered her with the power of their mind. A collar was forced upon her throat.

"Fortunately, Jedi Roxane understands the meaning of loyalty. Isn't it so, my child?"

"Yes, Grand Inquisitor."

"You're a liar and a fraud," Diona spat. "You're no better than a Sith."

"The Dark Side has twisted your mind, child." The renegade struggled, but his power kept her pinned to the ground. Two guards grabbed her. "But no one is beyond redemption. Jedi Roxane, do your duty."

"Yes, sir."

"Elpsis..."

"Elpsis is dead. You are no longer a Jedi."

"No, I'm not. Never was. I've lied. I've murdered innocents. I've abetted atrocities - all in the name of the Dominion. I deserve death for that. And you deserve better than to be their puppet." Diona's body jerked painfully and her limbs convulsed.

Roxane stepped forward towards her. With the guards holding Diona down, the Repentant placed her hands on the woman's forehead, pushing her mind against hers. Diona struggled, thrashed and pushed, but Roxane sunk in. And saw it all.

Diona drawing her first breath of air after emerging from the birthing pod. Her camaraderie with her sister clones. Her battles with Sith and Vong. Shooting civilians who had protested against requisitions. Being pressured to denounce Aliura and her shock when she saw what had become of her. She saw her blow up a bridge to stop the Republican Guard from seizing it, only to be captured and experimented on. She felt her guilt when she was forced to blow up a factory full of slaves. Saw her descent into drugs, her duel with Elpsis. Most importantly, she saw Elpsis from Roxane's perspective. She felt it - viscerally - as Diona's emotions shifted from hatred and revulsion, to grudging respect to...understanding, regret and compassion. Memories Diona had absorbed from Elpsis flooded her. She saw Elpsis take Mara's hand and lift her up. Diona had wanted to get her out of the camp to bring her back to Firemane.

She stepped back. Her breathing was heavy. She tried to compose herself. Her body shook. It was all a lie. "Jedi Roxane, you have your orders," Inquisitor Lea urged her. She barely even heard her. Her voice seemed so far away.

"Purify the Darksider," the Grand Inquisitor commanded her. She found that she did not like his tone.

"My name...," she began, speaking haltingly. She coughed. But then her voice grew in power. It hurt to raise it, but she did not care. "My name...is ELPSIS!" The girl roared. Her voice was strong enough to make the ceiling tremble. Guards drew their weapons and closed in on her. But it was too late. Her eyes flared, glowing with a burning intensity. Flames swept from her hands. The Force writhed inside her. She drank from the well of power. Stygian energies roared inside her - and were unleashed.

She lost herself in the flows of the Force. In the raging firestorm. Nay, she became the firestorm. She was the fire, and the fire was her. Drawing power from the core of her being, she erupted. A massive fiery wave rippled from her. She listened to the whispers of the Force and acted through instinct. She grabbed the pain, anger and fear inside her, shoving it into the nuclear furnace was that was her heart. Guards and Jedi were lifted off their feet, thrown and ignited. Those closest to the raging inferno were reduced to charred corpses. Furniture was consumed by flames. The blast of the Force struck the ceiling with the force of an explosion, causing part of it to cave in. There was a loud boom. Clouds of smoke billowed up into the sky. Flames engulfed her and she drew power from them. She was incandescent. A fury that walked and yelled, and she projected fire in all directions. Guards cried out in anguish as fires consumed them.

But the Grand Inquisitor stood. Fire had devoured his cloak and there was blood dripping down his face, but a shimmering barrier surrounded him. Dusting himself off, he locked eyes with her. "How unfortunate. I had such high hopes for your, girl," he chided her.

"I'm gonna kill you," she hissed hatefully.

In response, he revealed a lightsabre. Her lightsabre. Her physical eyes might fail her, but she could perceive the signature she had imprinted on it. Anger flared inside her. The blade glowed with a fierce orange light when he ignited it. "Then let this place be your grave."

xxx

Diona was hurled back by the eruption. Her collar flared painfully, sending electrical shocks through her. She grunted in pain, panting. But the flames were so intense that they burnt through the metal. She pulled it off and threw it to the ground. The two guards who had been restraining her were out cold. Swiftly she grabbed one of their Force imbued blades and tore off her ashen robe. When two guards rushed her, she reached out with the Force and made a gesture to lift them off their feet and slam them into each other. One of the two rushed her. With the Jedi Code on his lips, he swung his long bladed weapon at her. She parried the blade downward and channelled the Force through her left hand. An unseen force assaulted his senses and slowed his limbs. Then, with a powerful stroke, Diona cleaved him from shoulder to belly through his armour.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. The Force screamed a warning. A Jedi Inquisitor slashed downward at her but she slapped the attack away with her sword. She thrust forward with both hands, aiming the tip of her blade at her attacker's throat. But she was in turn parried. The riposte swept towards her legs and she leapt backward to evade the blade. "Traitor!" he shouted, using a sweeping parry to deflect a counterattack. Her blade blocked his attack and, ere he could respond, she poured power into her gauntlet-covered fist and rammed it into his mask. Then she raked her blade down his chest, severing one of his arms. He howled as the limb fell to the ground. Then she ripped his throat away with an arcing cut. He let out a horrid, ragged gasp through his windpipe and collapsed to the ground.

For a moment, she felt regret as she looked down upon his lifeless body. Then it was replaced with resolve. So she charged into the fires and the fray of enemies. She winced when a slug round struck her chestplate. The armour plating absorbed the round, but the impact still hurt. Lifting a burning piece of rubble with her mind, she flung it at the shooter. She was deaf to his cries. More bullets flew across the chamber, but she dashed nonetheless. Drawing upon the Force, she poured its energies into her muscles. "Lea!" she yelled, bolting towards her former superior. In response, the Inquisitor drew her own blade.

xxx

The explosion did not escape the notice of the prisoners labouring inside the mines. Nor did the massive surge of Force energy. So when the call came for them to assemble, they hesitated. Many looked around nervously. There was little reaction when guards stepped into the mines. Even the guards looked anxious, shifting uneasily, Prisoners tensed when they saw their fellows being grabbed.

Then suddenly one of the prisoners, the Nautolan called Phoebe, swung her pickaxe and embedded it into the skull of a guard. Removing it, she swung at another oppressor. It all happened too fast for anyone to react. Swiftly guards were upon her, striking her with stun batons. She was beaten and electrocuted, but fought. Other prisoners joined in. They fought with pickaxes, their fists, stolen weapons and, despite the pain it caused them, the Force.

Amidst all this, Firemane's first bombs fell. The cry of violence was heard across the camp. Soldiers moved into position, being deployed outside to meet the invaders. Prisoners took notice...and so things took their course. Soon the entire camp was a war zone.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

All around her the battle erupted into furious chaos and carnage. Both sides committed to destroying one another after the arrival of the Dominion’s elite forces. Firemane and the Republican Guard staggered against the enemy and the Dominion’s militia and troopers launched their own sorties alongside the elites.

Laira found herself engaging a pair of the Jedi Vanguard one with sword and shield, one with halberd, in melee combat. The redhead’s lightsaber slashed against their armor to no avail and their paired abilities complimented each other well. The warrior with the shield was defensive, able to cover his allies with his barriers and resistances, while the warrior with the halberd utilized powerful strikes and blows amplified through the Force which sundered the rock and earth.

The young Force-wielding ranger found herself completely reliant on her speed and agility to properly defend against the enhanced blows, barely able to avoid the bladed haft. Her grey eyes closed instinctively to avoid having debris, dirt, and mud flung into them from the impact of the weapon with the earth. She spun to his left, off towards his non-dominant arm and side where the shield warrior was waiting to cover him. His shield brought up, the barrier projected from it creating a wall to cover his ally, and so Laira did the only thing she could think of. She planted her boot against the shield, churning the Force within her to alter the pull of gravity against her body so that she could simply run up the barrier and over the two veterans.

She barely avoided a swipe from the warrior-priest’s sword and continued to travel upwards away from the ground, twisting in the air to reorient herself upside down, slashing with her lightsaber at their heads.

The shield warrior had brought his defensive weapon up, angled in her direction as any experienced warrior would, her lightsaber scraping against it almost harmlessly, barely leaving a furrow from the plasma blade. Laira pulled her legs forward, landing behind the warriors after her acrobatics. Immediately her palm brought forth flames once more, hoping that she could batter against their defenses and weaken them. The flames shrouded both warriors, blazing around their forms in a furious cone of heat.

A shadow stepped forth from the fire, smoke rising from his armor, his tunic covered in cinders and ash from the blaze, but his fine honed halberd lashed outward. Laira had no choice but to dodge to the left. From the point of the halberd a blast of telekinetic energy lanced outwards like a small shockwave of force, blasting through the air and rock alike, tossing Laira to the ground like a ragdoll.

Once more, the redhead twisted on the ground, rolling away from his follow up strikes against the ground into a crouching position, poised to launch forward. The shield warrior stepped forward immediately, blocking for his compatriot. Laira pressed a button on the handle of her Lightsaber, searing heat rose from the blade. The rain from above drizzled onto the blade’s electromagnetic sheath evaporating in an instant. Legs lunged, surged with energy as she drove forward, bringing the blade against the shield, looking for the edge of the barrier as it glanced off the Force-Imbued object.

The furious blade lanced against the barrier, slipping off to the side leaving black scars in its wake. At the edge of the barrier the veteran projected the blade began to make headway, above and over the warrior’s shoulder, aimed for his compatriot’s chest. Laira twisted the hilt, the blade doubling in length in an instant, catching the halberdier off guard. The silver blade sizzled through his armor and into his body, charring muscle and flesh instantly. Instinctively the shield warrior jerked his arm upwards, forcing the Lightsaber from the halberdier’s stomach and out of his shoulder, tearing through armor and flesh alike.

Laira snapped the blade back to its original length and let go of the over-surge button to conserve energy, slamming against the shield with her body at the end of her lunge. The warrior drove her down into the ground, trapping the princess between his bulwark shield and the earth of Tephrike. Energy crackled from his blade, readying for the killing blow.

The blast of a scattergun cracked through the air, then another and another. Stalgis and Leo advancing quickly, the Lieutenant pumping his weapon and releasing the slugs into the shield warrior one after the other. The first few rocked the warrior, but didn’t put him down, and the next caught his rising shield, sending shrapnel into the Jedi warrior’s face. Laira deactivated her saber, placed it into his armpit and triggered the blade once more, her face bloodied from his tackling of her a moment earlier. He slumped to the ground and she rolled to her knees, bloody from her nose, mud staining her once crimson mane and dripping onto her light armor, rain plastering against her skin and suit.

Stalgis grabbed her arm and helped her to her feet, grey eyes looked into the expressionless mask the Death Trooper wore, “Thanks for the assist.”

“No problem, keep it tight boys. Let’s keep moving.” He started to turn when a halberd seemingly appeared to protrude from his back, thrown by the severely wounded Jedi Laira had dealt with earlier. Laira tried to hold him up, but Stalgis dropped with the halberd stuck through his back. The redhead fell back alongside him, realizing the blade of the poleaxe had impaled them both only when the Death Trooper’s weight had forced her to the ground with him. Her hands felt along the blade, sensing it sticking through her stomach, piercing her flesh about four inches deep and into her abdomen.

The sound of scattergun shots echoed through her head as the rest of the troop advanced and took cover around the body of their fallen leader, lifting Laira behind cover for the medic to patch up.

[member="Tempest"]
[member="Glory"]

 

[Karrigan'Xalda]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]

The Light struck her. It caused an intense, searing pain. It was akin to the pain she had felt when her slave mistress had her minions bind her to a tree and leave her to burn in the naked sun to teach her discipline. Then and now, the Dark had been her shield. It was her cloak, her companion. Through its strength, she would prevail. So she drank from its well to strike at the Yedi. So she summoned her anger.

The Yedi had been able to mostly free himself from the plants that had tried to seize him. Her blood rage gave form to a large spike that shot upward from the soil beneath his feet. There was a growl of pain when it struck his leg, piercing a joint. She was far too away to see if it had made him bleed. But the Jedi Vanguard was not to be undone. Drawing upon his own reservoirs of power, he summoned a telekinetic wave.

The air twisted in strange shapes, mud was blown through the air and water splashed as the invisible wave swept across the ground. All she could do before it hit her was reach out towards the earth. Her own wave triggered a couple rocks, sending them hurtling towards the Yedi. Some he dodged, others he pushed away, but then they slammed into him. One hit him in the head, another in the back, causing him to drop.

Xalda knew pain when the wave struck her, sending her flying. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She had a cracked rib. When she finally landed, she hit the muddy soil hard, sliding across it for a few metres before coming to a halt. Thrown into a daze, she spat out a tooth that had gotten loose. She forced herself to focus, working through her pain. Fortunately, she was well-acquainted with pain. She let it feed her. Her shoulder was dislocated. She took a deep breath. There was a loud, painful crunch when she righted it.

The Yedi was apparently regaining her bearings, and so the Xioquo dashed forward, alchemised blade in hand. Calling upon the spirits, she poured their power into her muscles. Her body would be giving her hell when this fight was over. But she needed the push. She needed to fight and prevail. She swung her Sith sword in a chopping downward slash, but the Yedi was quicker on his feet than she'd thought.

Her first blow hit thin air, the next was caught by his battle shield. A bright glow surrounded the shield when her blade connected. Imbued with the Force, it could withstand her Sith sword's strikes. Indeed, when her strike connected, she felt a burn spread across her hand. She took a step back to reasses. Then their weapons clashed as the Yedi went on the offensive. His footwork was good, his strikes were precise and powerful. Being a human, he was stronger than her and she could feel the Force to strengthen. He was also empowered by the bond the Vanguards shared. Moreover, his armour was bulkier.

The alchemised hardened steel of their weapons clashed again and again. She parried some attacks, and dodged others, but he gave her little breathing space. With the shield in his grip, she could make little headway, while he hammered her. She ducked under a powerful overhead cut, but then the Yedi kicked her in the face. Reeling from this blow, she leaped back. He followed up with a thrust and she managed to parry the attack upward, past her shoulder. The vibrating steel sung near her skin. A direct approach would not work. She needed to change her methods.

Calling upon the spirits, she let its energies surge through her. For just a moment, she drew upon Crucitorn, causing a searing pain to shoot through his injured leg. Her blade struck like a serpent. Feinting a blow towards his head, it snaked right under his arm towards his arm pit, where the armour had a joint. There the plating was weaker and her sword kissed flesh, drawing blood. He growled in pain, drawing even more on the Force to compensate for the injury and hold on to his shield. He attacked her fiercely. She dodged, but the muddy ground unbalanced her and his enchanted blade scored a slash on the side of her torso. Sparks flew from her Duranium armour. Blood dripped from her injury.

He came at her again, forcing her back. The bond empowered him. It filled him with energy. Distance - she needed distance. Pulling back a bit further, she sought to parry blows rather than meet them head-on. Crucitorn helped debilitate her enemy. The pain could not stop him, but slow him down a bit. When she gained some space, she opened herself to the darkness. She chanted an incantation in the Xio tongue. Dark power manifested in form of orange tendrils. Bursting from her hand, they shot towards the advancing Jedi paladin. She was so hungry.

The draining tendrils struck him. His physical shield glowed as he poured the Force into his defence. Using his shield to channel, he summoned an invisible wall to ward himself against the Force Drain assault. But she kept leeching energy. The more he seemed to pour into his defence, the more she consumed. She could feel her headache receding and the pain from her injuries being reduced. She felt invigorated. He was on the backfoot, panting. She could feel his aura weaken.

The Yedi dropped the Force barrier. Then there was pain - for her. Rather than try to block her, he flooded her with an immense amount of energy. It was of the Light. Like lightning striking a battery, it severed the link. Her body felt like it was burning. Like when the sun roasted her flesh. She cried out in pain. The tendrils vanished. The Yedi closed in on her. Feinting a thrust towards her torso, he slashed at her leg. When her sword caught his weapon, he poured all his strength into his shield arm. Then his shield was rammed into her face. She had a helmet, but it could not blot everything out. It broke her nose.

Her blood rage took over. She was a child of the soil. Terramancy allowed manipulation of the earth, but it went beyond that. She summoned a strong magnetic field. She could not crush him inside his suit, but his helmet began to crumple as it compressed around his head. He struggled to breathe - or see well. A telekinetic blow knocked her down, but when he swung wildly she rolled away and then struck his leg, unbalancing him. The heavy shield dropped. Crushing the helmet around his head left him alive, but claustophobic and choking. A swift strike of her blade put an end to him, with his head hitting the ground.


Her blood lust demanded more, but her instructors had taught her to go for the quick kill. Sloppiness was the recipe of defeat. The Yedi's body crumpled to the ground - dead. She breathed heavily, panting. She was in pain and the boost adrenaline and the dark side provided her had faded. Moreover, she was bleeding. But she would honour her worthy opponent. Bending down, she grabbed his helmet, compressed around his skull, and pulled it off. With a quick slice, she cut one of his round ears off. Those still struck her as somewhat exotic. She would remember his valour by preserving this trophy. It would be laid at the feet of the Karishzar.

xxx

Light, Dark. These were academic concepts for Saito. To her, the divide was not between two metaphysical sides. Rather it was between liberty and oppression. A telekinetic wave rippled from the Jedi Commander Diana, just before the Panathan could cloak herself. The air twisted in strange shapes as it rippled towards her and she vanished from sight, dashing away from the impact. Columns of mud and smoke were hurled into the air when the wave impacted. She caught the tail end of it and felt a sharp pain in her back, but stiffled a cry of pain.

Repositioning, she brought the electronic sights of her rifle to her right eye. For just a moment she allowed herself to sink in the Force. Her aura stretched out, assaulting the Jedi's senses. It was akin to wrapping a blanket around his head, leaving his senses diminished. She depressed the trigger. The bullet shot towards the Jedi Commander's leg. Quickly, she moved to reposition.

She was already in motion, but then an arrow shot through the sky, moving faster than any arrow should. In mid-air it fragmented into dozen identical bolts that rained down upon her. Where the cloud of shards struck, there was lightning. It washed over her, burning her. Her body jerked. The lightning pierced the shadows and illuminated her location. Her skin was singed by the blazing heat. Her HUD went haywire, before rebooting. Her cloaking device was a bust.

The Jedi Commander advanced towards her, lining up another shot. Bringing up her rifle, she fired. Her bullet ripped through the enchanted bow. Without missing a beat, the Jedi lifted her off her feet with a telekinetic vice-grip and flung her towards the nearest tree. For a moment she struggled to breathe. A Master with a more typical skill set might have been able to muster a defence against being so unceremoniously ragdolled or been able to counterattack in the same manner. However, Saito's command of telekinesis was subpar. With a lot of effort, she could lift a pebble into the air. With even more effort, she could make it go somewhere. That was about it. However, she had agility and good control over her body. And so when she was flung towards the tree, she managed to brace her legs and push off the tree rather than hitting it, breaking the telekinetic grip and landing on the ground with a roll. However, her landing hurt. She spat blood. Her shoulder pained her.

The Jedi Commander was quick on her feet, advancing upon her with single-minded precision. Getting up, Saito grabbed her rifle. She called upon the Force. Her power of choice was a rarely used, but useful one, Force Affliction. The Jedi slowed as her mind was clouded and her senses came under attack. The debilitating poison seeped into her body. She swayed as she came under its influence, coughing. Small droplets of blood smeared her helmet's faceplate.

Seizing her chance, Saito tried to pull back. But the Jedi caused her to stumble by performing a telekinetic pull on her knee. Her leg cried in pain and she fell. Her enemy was upon her. The Jedi launched a powerful downward slash. Lacking anything else that could be of use and unable to dodge, Saito raised her slugthrower rifle in defence. Her gun shattered. The Jedi was using a physical blade rather than a lightsabre, so her weapon did not cut through. However, the slash broke the insides of the rifle, leaving it useless.

Not giving her a moment's reprieve, the Jedi launched another cut. With the rifle broken, Saito blocked with her arm. The Duranium steel withstand the blow, but though the blade did not pierce, the attack fractured a bone. The pain was savage. Saito cried out - and fired before she cartwheeled. Her shatterpistol spat a pellet that was propelled through the air at tremendous speed. Her aim was a bit off. The Jedi barely blocked it, but the shot tore across her ear and scalp. Enraged, the Jedi Commander tore the gun from her grasp and advanced, blade raised. A cough escaped her throat, this one more violent than the previous ones. Rolling, Saito poured her power into her once more. A simple stun that impaired the Jedi's senses and paralysed her limbs for a moment.

As Jedi Commander Diana struggled against her stasis attack, the Panathan used some deft acrobatics to leap up a tree. Her body would give her hell for this. But though suffering from the debilitating effects, the Jedi would not relent in her defence of her homeland. Up in the sky, the storm raged unabated. Thunder clapped and echoed across the hill, while lightning flashed. By chance or design, one particular bolt of lightning shot down from the sky towards the Jedi. But rather than flee or shield herself, the Jedi raised her free hand, grabbing the bolt. There was a bright glow around her hand as she caught it inside a ball of energy. Her Force enchanted sword rippled with power, then spat out the bolt. It struck the tree Saito had sought refuge on.

The tree exploded. She leapt away, but electricity struck her and she fell. Broken tree branches peppered her as she lay there. The Jedi had gotten close. Saito could feel the Force building up in her, then she felt a invisible fingers trying to wrap themselves around her. All the Force energy she had been holding back until now erupted from her as she let her aura expand. The coughing Jedi poured power into the Force Crush - and nothing happened except Saito getting a bad cough and feeling unsteady on her legs. It was like a cold, wet blanket had been wrapped around her enemy. The debilitating, Force-based poison helped sap her strength.

In the same moment Xalda slew her adversary. The pain was reflected to the Jedi through the link. An angry cry erupted from Jedi Commander Diana's throat. Saito fired her hardsound gun. Such weapons could mess up bones, even through armour. It blew the sword out of the Jedi's grasp. Enraged the Jedi rushed her. Stepping forward forcefully, she checked Saito with her powerful body. Then she grabbed her throat, choking her. Saito saw dark circles before her eyes. She resisted the urge to gasp and try to force oxygen into her lungs. One last tool remained. She brought up her holdout bolter, placing it beneath the Jedi's ribs and fired. The blowback and the effect of shattering armour was so strong that it broke her hand. But struck by the slimmed down explosive bolt, the Jedi breathed her last breath and died. Saito collapsed on top of her.

 

[Glory]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]

Back and forth the right went. There seemed to be no end to the bloodletting in the tunnels. The Dominion clone troopers and Jedi knew what was at stake. So did the Republican Guard and the Firemane soldiers. No quarter was given - or asked for. Surrenders were not accepted, enemy wounded shot out of hand. The air was thick with the stink of blood and death. Explosions rocked the tunnels. Here and there, there were minor cave-ins.

The Republican Guard troopers were running low on ammunition. Many were down to sidearms, vibro-bayonets, blades and improvised weapons. Screams were heard when petrol bombs were thrown at charging Dominion soldiers. Up close a ruthless melee was being fought. Soldiers slashed, speared and butchered. Seemingly dead or mortally wounded men were stabbed, just to make sure they might not enter the game again when one least expected it.

Synthia Vao pulled the wounded Mezha into cover as a rocket flew by. It detonated, shaking the walls and throwing debris into the smoke-choked air. "If this goes pear-shaped, you think they'll build small statues of us?" Synthia muttered as she peeked around the corner and unleashed a slug round into the chest of an advancing clone trooper.

Mezha wheezed, the wound in her chest still paining her. "They better remember I'm the prettier one," she said sardonically. Synthia lowered the muzzle of her weapon and ducked back around the corner as the wall exploded under counterfire. "You must've hit your head hard," she retorted. She flung a grenade back at their attackers and grabbed Mezha. "Keep moving!" she yelled and sprinted for cover.

A fireball erupted behind them. A shockwave of and chunks of duracrete hammered their backs, tossing them forward. Synthia landed on top of Mezha, inadvertently adding to her injuries. Her head swam and her ears rang. Soot and dust covered her. A clone trooper rushed them, thrusting his vibro-bayonet towards them. Pain shot through her when it pierced her armour. She shot him and pulled the bayonet out. Another man died when Mezha flung a razor bug at him. Together they staggered out of the debris. As soldiers leapt through the smoke, Synthia unleashed a stream of bullets.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Freya was still fighting. Having run out of ammo, the blonde-maned soldier had turned to using her boltgun like a club, bashing enemies, spearing them with her attached vibro-bayonet or simply ramming them with her power armoured body. She fought like a fury, cursing all the way. More Dominion soldiers kept coming, firing. Synthia continued firing as bullets burst around her. Though weakened, Mezha drew her vibrosword. Struggling forward, she hacked off the arm of a trooper who came close, the limb falling with the weapon.

"Get down, you idiot," Synthia shouted angrily. She got into firing position and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. She was out of bullets. Acting on instinct, she ejected the empty magazine and slapped a new one in, raising the gun to her eyes. "They better make the statues good."

"We're winning this," Mezha grabbed her by the arm, while a medic tried to patch her up. "We're too close to run. Not without dropping the whole frakking tunnel on them."

"Yes, ma'am." She fired more rounds. More and more enemies closed in. She handed her gun to Mezha and drew her vibrosword. "Come on, my brothers and sisters!" she shouted to make herself heard amid the chaos of battle. "For the Guard! For Tephrike!" Her cry was taken up by the remaining soldiers. Backed into a corner, they fought with desperate ferocity. The Guard might die, but it would not surrender. Mezha shot approaching enemies, Synthia struck those who got close enough with her sword. She clove the head of a clone trooper with a downward blow. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the swing of a long blade. She managed to move, but the heavy blow struck her helmet, breaking it. Her head was instantly filled with white-hot pain. The smell of blood invaded her nostrils, while her ears rang. Dimly she heard the shout of Mezha, but it was too distant.

The helmet fell away, revealing the Twi'lek's features. Blood flowed down her face. Her opponent hesitated. "You're..one of us." For just a moment, Synthia was frozen as well. That voice was...hers. A fellow sister. She recovered from her shock a fraction of a second before her fellow clone did. Her blade cut through the woman's leg. The Twi'lek fell to the ground with a wail. Without thinking, Synthia stabbed the woman through the chest. She had no time to contemplate her dead clone sister. A sonic detonator exploded close to her. The explosion was deafening, making her ear ring and knocking her down. Her armour pumped stimulants into her body, allowing her to rise. To continue fighting. She lost track of how time passed, how many fell on both sides. Explosions rocked the tunnels, partly due to grenades and rockets, partly due to improvised explosives. Smoke filled the air to a point it was choking. Then the tide turned. Republican Guard and Firemane reinforcements pulled through.

Republican Guard soldiers were pouring through the tunnel.

Towards the heart of Fortress Purity.

xxx

Coalition warfare was never easy. Especially when you were of the belief that your coalition partner was filled with your mortal enemies. A Firemane liaison officer had been assigned to the Republican Guard field headquarters. He was a Non-Force-User but there was still friction, especially after Colonel Varkathras had marched into the command post with a lightsabre on her belt.

Still the Guard had committed to the battle. Its soldiers had fought, killed, bled and died. Firemane could extract itself from Tephrike and leave the war-torn planet to its fate, but they could not. It was their home, after all.

General Aruunzeb directed the movements of his troops from the war room. In his younger days he would have been out there on the frontlines, getting in the thick of things and punishing Dominion and Sith lackeys. But age and responsibility kept him from doing that now. Nonetheless, he had elected to position his command post as close to the fighting as possible. Indeed, he was a good deal away from the field headquarters. Perched on top of a tank, he followed the battle through a pair of macrobinoculars. In contrast to the design that was common in the Galaxy, the armoured fighting vehicle was wheeled. Not only was it cheaper, it was also more suited to the terrain. Thunder roared in the distance, and lightning flashed, but he looked unperturbed.

"Sir, we've received word from Colonel Ziveri," a youngish staff officer approached the Mon Cal general, delivering a crisp salute. "The Andorian Guard is pushing through the tunnels. Heavy casualties, but they're on the move."

Aruunzeb put his binoculars away and googled at her. To be fair, that was the normal facial expression of his species. "Good. What's the situation on the Little Round Hill?" he asked her.

"Heavy fighting, sir. It's a bloodbath up there. The Dominion has thrown in the Vanguard."

"They'd only deply them if they're reeling. All available forces are to go on the offensive. Don't stop until the enemy is broken and the last Jedi lackey is dead. Raise high the Firebird flag, children. No pity, no prisoners. I'll shoot any man I see with pity on him."

"Yes, sir. What about the...outsiders?"

"Thousands of our soldiers are buried in this soil in unmarked graves," Aruunzeb stated gruffly. "They bled and died there. We shall take this god-damned fortress because it's ours and we frakking well can. Plant the Firebird on its ruins and clear out the Jedi filth."

 

[Tempest]

[member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] [member="Laira Darkhold"]

Mid-order, mid-battle, Tempest stopped. She felt a new presence awaken ahead of her, and for a moment her heart stopped.

Elpsis

She was there. She could feel her in the Force for the first time in many days. She was closer to her than she had been in months. Reaching out to her love through the Force she sought to establish contact.

Elpsis hear me. I am here. I am coming for you.

She got little answer in return, but she could feel Elpsis’ power rising to a fiery crescendo. She could feel the pain, the anger, the…fracturing. Something bad was happening, and Elpsis was fighting for her life.

Anger and desperation filled her and for any money she would have blasted her jetpack off and charged in there alone to save Elpsis.
She wavered, ignoring everything else. Even when Nyssa grabbed her shoulder and shook her she barely seemed to react.
It was a bullet which snapped her from her fugue. The impact of a sniper round hitting her chest knocked her down. Fortunately it had not pierced, but she’d have a bruise there when this was all over…if she survived.

“Tempest, what is going on with you, woman!” Nyssa growled.
Tempest stood, waving the red Sith off. “Elpsis is here, I can feel her. She needs us.” She deflected a second bullet with her lightsabre, now alert to her danger.

Everything told her to just charge forward, move to Elpsis’ aid. What could these primitives do to her anyway? She was this close to reclaiming Elpsis, what was the delay?
No. That would be folly on a grand scale. Primitive in technology the Dominion might be, but not in valour or with the Force. Charging in alone would do no one any good, it would leave her army without guidance and even endanger Elpsis.
So Tempest swallowed her mad charge, forced herself to calm down, and stood ready.

She would get to Elpsis soon. If the redhead was alive or dead she would be found…and avenged if needed.

On came the Dominion ships. Their bigger craft opened fire with explosive shells whilst the smaller craft sped forward. Those with passengers angled forward to board the tanks whilst those without steered straight for them.
“Open fire! Take them out!”
The tank Tempest was on turned its massive turret and opened fire. Several others did the same. The searing laser cannons blasted into the bigger ships, starting fires on board.
“Give them a missile!” Tempest ordered. A Deathstrike Type 2 missile was not the best anti-ship missile, but it would do the job. As the missile arced overhead she noted with grim joy that several of the crew leapt from the ship before it hit. The missile struck, tearing a great hole in the starboard flank of the ship. It started to list, though was not destroyed yet.

Tempest could see another tank though in danger and so she took off to help deal with the threat. She turned to the crew and Nyssa before she left.
“Incoming boarders. Handle them!”

XXX

Meanwhile Nyssa, assured that Tempest was no longer staring goggle eyed into the distance, got to work. Fortunately the tank had some weapons she could use. She moved over to the gunner in command of the rotary shattercannon and simply pointed.
“Mine.”
He wisely made no protest. One of the little ships was coming in, loaded with soldiers and even a robed figure. Sharp teeth on her red face became a satisfied snarl.
“Dodge this, Jedi,” she hissed, and let rip.
The rotary shattercannon had a bit of a mind of its own. Once one accounted for the leading though, it did the job well. Hundreds, no thousands of pellets spat from the cannon’s maw, and the speeder boat was absolutely shredded. She swore she saw a mist of blood erupt as the bullets turned the crew to giblets.
Nyssa stopped and stared into the smoke and flames hoping to see the dead Jedi.
Sadly, the Jedi was very much alive and leapt down onto the deck. Alive he might be, but not unscathed, and blood dripped down his left arm.
“Demon, you will be purged!”
“Keep talking, pretty boy,” Nyssa said, drawing her lightsabre.
He came at her, but Nyssa now felt Elpsis’ presence growing stronger. She was moments away from her objective and this Jedi worm was in her way. Anger flowed through her, the Force called to her, and she greedily seized all she could of it.
“Sith, you are-,” he began.
Nyssa attacked. Her lightsabre became a blazing arc of red as she advanced relentlessly on the Jedi. Space was limited on the back of the tank, so he was forced to hold his ground against her. However, her speed, her strength – enhanced by her bionic hand – and the fury of the Dark Side, gave her the edge. Though his bladework was good and he caused several hits, she simply pushed past even the ones which hurt through the armour. Finally, her parry knocked his blade aside and she slid the blade deep into his chest. Seizing the Jedi by the throat she slammed his head into the turret of the tank. Repeatedly. When at least he stopped moving she dropped the body into the water and exalted in the power of the Dark Side.

XXX

The suicide ships were a cause of considerable issues still though. One of them, despite being hit many times, managed to contact with the tank. The explosion was not enough to destroy it, but it listed badly to the side, dipping into the water. It would have to be abandoned, especially as the guns on shore now targeted the exposed flank.

As Natalie took cover she found Loyalty beside her on one of the IFVs.
“Those damn ships. They’re moving too fast for my gunners, and even if we hit them it doesn’t always stop them!”
“That’s why you need me,” she said, charging her gun. Natalie was no-nonsense. She didn’t take undue credit or brag, but there were some things she deserved to be recognised for. This was one of them.
Settling down behind the turret she cursed as it moved. “Tell them to stop moving the turret!” When this was done she took aim. She found an immediate target. A speeding ship, probably packed with explosives, was getting close to the battle-wedge.
Numbers and information flowed into her head. Range, wind, curve, gravity, penetration, enemy speed. All in the space of a few seconds she computed. She’d have only one chance at this, so she aimed carefully. Leading a shot was hard, but fortunately her enemy was speeding consistently in one direction despite the shot and shell falling all around. One crewer, crouched slightly behind the windscreen.
In the end she didn’t aim at the target, but at a spot five metres above and twenty metres left of the target. She squeezed the trigger.
The Dominion captain never knew what killed him, but the bolt tore through his chest and heart. Pitching to the side her fell onto the controls and his ship turned, still at speed and slammed into a ship packed with Dominion marines. There was an incredible explosion as both went up.
Natalie smiled slightly to herself, but only for a moment. There was more to do.

XXX

As Tempest’s orange blade hewed down the last enemy she surveyed the scene. The battle was in their favour at last. The ships were burning or disengaging, the shore defences were in ruins and her first Yazgids were near the shore.
“Group up, prepare for the final push!”
She could see fire engulfing the central complex and the sounds of fighting there. She smiled grimly. Elpsis was doing what she did best; unleashing chaos and fire!

XXX

The strike from the rear had caught the Firemane troops by surprise. They had known an enemy was coming, but not the size or the laser focused dedication of it.
As the Dominion vehicles sped forward they headed through the trees and the path. Several were hit but pushed on relentlessly. Stunned by this onslaught, the Firemane troops stood aside to let them through. Doing so would move them into the open where the range and power of their weapons would have the edge. Not all the Dominion troops were dispatched so however, others pushed into the trees, almost a forlorn hope to hold the cordon open to do…something.

XXX

Commander Jazan Jai Khalal was almost out of ammunition and was down to a single missile on each of her ships and her blaster cannons. Still, when news came of the enemy incursion she moved in.
“Commander, it seems like the Dominion is getting reinforcements. They may be wishing to strengthen the defenders or evacuate them.”
“Understood. Mirage Three, take Seven and Eight and come from the north. Everyone else, let’s take out their transports and tanks. Final missile authorised.”
They had to make it count, so as they came in the flak was heavy. However the fire was not so bad that they couldn’t complete their runs. Fire erupted as they swept over, the missiles released and impacting as they were already passed.
“Alright, squadrons, that’s it for us. Peel off and return to space. Good job lords and ladies.”

XXX

The Dominion ‘reinforcements’ had suffered heavily, but they were still intact enough to get through the fire and reach the gate. The defenders, already panicky from the firepower and from the reports at the main complex, opened the gates without a question. This was sadly, for them, their final mistake….

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

((This is only the Elpsis part. Will post Diona in a separate post that will come after this one. So it's not your turn yet.))

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]

Smoke billowed into the air. Fire had swept across the building, engulfing a good portion of it. The flames licked and singed her, eating away at her robes. But they did not hurt her. Fire could not kill a Phoenix. It empowered it. So she drew upon the flames, letting them fuel her. To the point where she glowed white-hot.

She was tired, in pain and afraid. With all the smoke in the air, breathing had become difficult. She coughed. Her throat hurt her. It did not matter. For the first time, her fractured had some clarity. No more orders, no more blind obedience. Her enemy stood before her and she would burn him.

Her hands glowed as she reached out with her will, gathering the heat that permeated the air. Her mind willed that it coalesce into a thermic lance and that it be shot towards the Grand Inquisitor - and so it was.

But her enemy was quick on his feet. The thermic lance was hurled towards him, but he dodged deftly, rolling. Missing him, the flaming lance instead struck a steel door, burning a hole through it as it impacted. "You disappoint me," Grand Inquisitor Antonius chided her, sounding like a somewhat exasperated parent or teacher. "I was told that you single-handedly held off my most faithful followers. Surely you can do better than this."

He had gathered power inside him and now he unleashed it. His power raised pillars of flaming debris, and he hurled them towards her. Elpsis stood her ground as the volley was thrown through the air. Each piece of debris was big enough to bury her beneath it, perhaps even crush her should it impact.

She stood. The energies of the flowed surged through her. Fire filled her veins. Her ethereal eyes perceived the debris, following its trajectory through the Force. Fire roared inside her, and the pillars debris disintegrated. Through the Force, she gathered the chunks of hot metal and shrapnel.

Her will turned them into a vortex of debris - and she directed it towards the Grand Inquisitor. For just a moment, there was an expression of surprise written across his face, then it was replaced by resolve and malice. He drew upon the Force to wrap him in a protective cocoon to shield him from the storm, but it could not protect his entire body. The hard thud of metal and debris hit his back and leg causing him to falter and pain shot through his body. A rib cracked and broke. Moreover, the vortex sucked air from him. She could feel his pain and rejoiced it.

He tried to block the hailstorm with his lightsabre, but there were too many shards coming at him. He was being bombarded. But he was not so easily undone. As she rejoiced in his pain, the Force centred at the core of his being in a strong ball of energy. It was channelled through his arms and produced a strong blast against the wall of the vortex, breaking it. When the bombardment ceased, his robes were a mess and he was bleeding.

Elpsis would have laughed, but it would have hurt her throat a lot. The mask had fallen. The blazing aura of the Light that surrounded him had been revealed to be a fraud. Where there was once Light, her eyes only perceived darkness now. Malevolence. It did not matter. Light, Dark, she would destroy them all. The smoke made her cough.

Then there was pain. The Grand Inquisitor drew power from the darkness, unconcerned about anyone sensing it. Black energy emerged from his fingers. Five bolts of darkness crackled as he forged them through his will. They had a sickly green hue. Then he launched them and they spiralled down the hall towards her. Invisible to naked sight, she could still sense them through the Force.

Her leg was in too bad a shape for her to dodge properly. Every move hurt. A blast of energy deflected one. Another was clumsily blocked by a Force imbued blade she willed into her grasp. As the blow connected, the energies of the Force rippled through her sword, destroying the tainted spear. But then she was struck.

The first sign that something was wrong was a slight blurring of her vision. Then she was overcome by a wave of nausea. It was a quaesy feeling that made it seem like she was about to throw up. She felt dizzy and there was a sharp pain inside her abdomen, which seemed to intensify with each moment. Dropping to one knee, she tried to stabilise herself. There was a painful throbbing in the back of her head. It made it difficult to focus. Sickness threatened to take hold of her. It hurt when she coughed. The shield dropped out of her grasp. Blood seeped out of the leg wound.

Then she spat blood.

I am not weak. Roxane and Elpsis cried in unison. She called upon the Force, trying to stem the sickness. Her anger gave her fuel. She would burn him. The image became reality as an enormous wave of flame rippled from her hands, sweeping across the corridor towards him. All her anger, pain and rage was thrown at him. He formed a shimmering barrier of the Force, but when the flood hit, the dam was broken. When it rammed him, he was slammed into the floor. He rolled on the ground, trying to put out the flames as the fire ate through his robes and burnt his skin. Burns covered him as he tore off his ashen robes. His face was contorted into an expression of hate, spite and, increasingly, concern.

Her head hurt. The headaches were getting worse. So was her nausea. A dark shadow loomed before her, seemingly coalescing out of thin air like smoky tendrils coming together and merging into one being. Burning embers opened. Suddenly she felt cold when the shadow surged towards her. It was a freezing, numbing cold that warred with the fire, seeking to put it out. Its stiffling presence felt like it was swallowing her.

Fear triggered her anger and she swung her blade. The abomination shrieked loudly. It was an ear piercing howl so loud that blood seeped from her ears and she felt like her eardrums were about to burst, as the Force smashed into its ethereal form. Her blade cut through one of its arms, but within the blink of an eye it had regrown. Shadowy tendrils manifested, grabbing her legs and she was forced to defend herself. Smoky tendrils formed long black talons, slashing at the empath. She could not dodge and a claw lacerated the thigh of her bad leg, blood seeping out.

Pain shot through her body until she was on one knee, still swinging her sword. Her blade cut deeply into the creature, then it was ripped from her grasp. As she stared into the formless ethereal shape, she could see it had shifted. Where there was once a demon of smoke, now she saw...Him.

"Elpsis, dear, I thought you'd learned manners. This really is not the way to treat your father." It was his aura, his voice. "Look at you, such a disgusting, weak little whore. Just like your mother. They've all abandoned you, you know. Just like Coryth did. She could not wait to be rid of you."

"Frak off...You're not..."

"Real? Well, then you are insane. Let's put it to the test, shall we?" He sliced across her cheek. "This is real. As is this." His power surged into her mind. It brought her back to the dark days. Of being trapped inside a dirty cell filled with rats. Of being forced to watch while he hurt captives and innocent animals, tormenting them before her eyes in full knowledge that her empathy would make her feel all of it. Of being forced to kill in an arena for his amusement - with him raising those she faced off against from the dead until she was close to breaking.

She was frozen, her body shook. "You had such promise...but maybe you'll still do as a vessel." Smoke tendrils wrapped around her and the demon began to flow into her. She could not move, or even scream. Agony shot through her body. She was fading. Anger and pain triggered. Suddenly the blade lying on the floor was raised. It pierced the demon's back from behind. A blood-curdling scream escaped him as it protruded from his back. She was knocked back as his smoky shape exploded, releasing the dark energy that had given him form. Unconsciously she reached out, consuming the darkness.

Blood dripped down her lips. She pulled the sword into her grasp. "I'm not afraid," she spat. But the Grand Inquisitor was in motion. Having used her distraction, he blitzed her, moving so fast he seemed like a blur. Ere she could counter, he hammered her with a flurry of strikes. Elpsis was no great duellist, but she had mote experience using a lightsabre than he did. But her body was in pain and she was sick. She had to fight against the disease inside her.

It did not take long until she was forced on the defensive. She grit her teeth when one strike scorched her wrist. She ducked under a wild blow and stabbed underneath, catching him in the ribs. The blood and pain stroked his anger and he kicked her in the face. As she staggered, he came at her again. She parried a great many of his attacks, but felt the energy diminishing in her. He sensed her weakness. Her blocks became more clumsy. His blade penetrated her guard and drew a burning across her shoulder, crippling her arm. Her sword fell out of her grasp and hit the floor.

Pain hit her. Smoke coiled from her shoulder. She stepped back, but he loomed above her. He raised the lightsabre - her lightsabre - holding it in a two-handed grip. As it came crashing down upon her, she did the last thing she could. It was a desperate trick. But a good one. She remembered it had worked once. Pain was just weakness leaving the body.

So she grabbed the burning blade with her bare hand. The heat was so intense that she almost let go as soon as her fingers touched the incandescent blade. But she held on to it. Her fingers crackled with energy as she absorbed it. A finger fell off. She kept channelling. He tried to dislodge her, but her grip was iron. There was a bright glow around her hand. Another finger was disintegrated.

Burning cracks had appeared in her skin. Her white eyes were flaming. She pulled the heat into the air, superheating it. "But you are," she hissed. "You're right to fear me." Then she forced the superheated air down his throat - all of it. And cooked his lung.

He staggered as the lung exploded inside him. One lung struggled to compensate for the loss. The pain was agonising. Fear was written across his face and coloured his aura. It was accompanied by shock. Desperation overtook him. It manifested in form of a massive wave of energy. He channelled it through his hand. So intense was the beam that his hand was scorched when it was discharged. All Elpsis could do was throw up a quick barrier when it slammed into her. The hall was engulfed by a blast of searing light so bright that it looked like a reactor was going nova.

Both were pushed back by the blast wave. Her body burnt as she was thrust back through the hall. The facility trembled and debris rained down upon her. She vanished beneath it, entombed. The Grand Inquisitor landed several metres away. He was panting. When he stood, he did so shakily and trembled. He cast his eyes upon the debris she lay buried under and tried to catch his breath. Pain thundered inside his chest.

No movement came from her. At first.

Vomit escaped her. Then she pushed. Bit by bit, pieces of debris were pushed off her or blasted away as she crawled her way out of her tomb. Then she was free, and forced herself to stand. Unbent, unbowed, unbroken. Desperately he reached out with the Force, trying to will the discarded lightsabre to fly into his grasp. But she stretched out her good hand as well.

The lightsabre rose from the floor. First it seemed to fly this way, then that way before it hovered in the air between them. Beads of sweat dripped down her face soiled, bloody face. Strain was evident on her features as she concentrated, her will at war with his. The burning cracks on her skin glowed brightly. Then the blade flew towards her.

When it entered the grasp of her good hand, it felt right. Like it was meant to be. The lightsabre hummed as it ignited, producidng a fiery orange blade. She faced him. "So be it," he snarled. And then abruptly the Grand Inquisitor vanished. In the wake of the destruction mirror images of the Sith Lord appeared in the rubble, each looking and sensing as though they were real. Each of them carried what felt like a Force imbued sword. They closed in on her.

Her skull thundered. She blotted it out. She blotted it all out and followed the ripples. Her ethereal eyes pursued the threads. Reliance on Force Sight was crippling in many ways, but beneficial in others. Such as when she needed to pierce the fog of lies and drag those who hid in the darkness into the blazing fires, where their tainted souls would be purified through the flames.

An invisible hand plucked the Deceiver from his hideout. His camouflaged form was forced into the light as she hurled him into the crackling flames. The illusions dissipated into nothingness. He cried out, rolled and banished the flames. A torrent of lightning blasted from his hands. His last gambit. Her blade caught the dazzling, forking arcs of malevolence that clawed towards her. More blistering energy poured from his hands. She was struck and jerked, but stood, absorbing it. He fed the storm building up inside her.

Then he burnt. The darkness he threw at her was channelled back at him, and he was cooked from the inside out. Even as the wild fire spread through his body, he threw more lightning at her. Until the anguish grew too strong. So great was the heat that he was glowing. Then his flesh began to melt. His screams were loud enough to make what was left of the ceiling shake. In the flames she perceived a blazing inferno. A lady clad in red, eyes glowing with a fiery intensity.

"The night is dark and full of terrors, Grand Inquisitor," Elpsis spoke with dissonant serenity. "I am one of them. Remember me in hell, after I've burnt you to ash." And so he did. The wild fire consuming him became an inferno that matched the one she saw in the flames. His blood was being boiled. Flesh burnt and melted. She took her time with him. Slowly, the phoenix consumed him. Then his howls ceased, and there was nothing left except ashes and a skeleton. Elpsis smiled coldly.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

((And this is part 2. It is Laira's turn now))

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]

So it had come to this.

Traitor. Oathbreaker. Heretic. Murderer.

That was she was.

No matter who prevailed, she would die.

Perhaps she would find peace in oblivion.

But she would kill the Inquisitor first.

The guards who stood between her and Inquisitor had once been her comrades. Brothers and sisters in arms. She fought and killed them nonetheless. It had all been a lie. Her entire life had been a lie even before she opened her eyes in the birthing pod and took her first breath. So she killed. It was what she had been for. She unsubtly parried the blow of one guard, and then rammed the pommel of her sword into her enemy's face. Another guard thrust her blade forward, but Diona side-stepped and cut her at the elbow before she clove through her opponent's skull.

Inquisitor Lea was in her sights. Her injuries did not matter. The raging flames did not matter. Or the fact that all the smoke in the air made it difficult to breathe. Reaching out with the Force, the Inquisitor raised a flaming piece of debris that had once belonged to the ceiling and hurled it towards Diona. As it crossed the distance towards her, Diona pulled the Force into her muscles and leapt, dodging sideways.

Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she called upon the Force and summoned a telekinetic wave. She sent the Force Push hurtling towards Lea. At the passage of the wave, it gathered pieces of debris and bodies. Centring herself in the Force, Lea let its energies flow through her and willed them to bring forth a protective wall. There was a bright glow when the wave impacted upon the shimmering barrier of energy. The Inquisitor shook a bit as the two forces collided, but held her ground.

However, Diona had used her distraction to get close. Fury powered her as she struck. Her blows were powerful and brutal. There was little subtlety to them, but she was the stronger one and a more experienced duellist. Her flurry of strikes forced Lea to back away as the Inquisitor struggled to meet them with her own sword. Soon she was being pushed back. It did not take long until Diona had pushed past her guard and cut a bloody line across her forearm and sliced into her thigh.

Lea backed away, trading space for time. But her blocks were growing increasingly clumsy. What hits she scored, Diona seemed to simply power through, even those that got through her armour. Force imbued durasteel clashed fiercely. Diona slashed at her flank, but Lea twisted her blade downward and their weapons met again. Diona's fist came crashing down on the Inquisitor's face with tremendous force and blood sprayed on the ground as she broke Lea's nose.

The Jedi Inquisitor staggered, pulling back. When Diona was about to follow through with another strike, an invisible hand gripped her throat like a vice. The Guardian choked, gasping for air. Lea clenched her hand into a fist, tightening her grip on Diona's throat. The Guardian's eyes bulged as her lips turned blue. Her lungs screamed for air and her limbs felt heavy. Rage surged through her and exploded in an eruption of power.

It shattered the invisible chains around her throat. The telekinetic blast slammed into Lea's legs, causing her to tumble and forcing her to let go of Diona'. Her lungs sudenly filled with air. There was no time for a reprieve. Red-hot needles were driven into her skull, drawing a cry of pain from her throat. She pressed on nonetheless, driving Lea ahead of her as the Inquisitor was forced on the defensive once again.

Her relentless assault pushed the Inquisitor to the flames. To a place where her lack of armour forced Lea to expend some energy on shielding herself from the fire that sought purchase on her robes. Where Diona could ram her boot into the Jedi Inquisitor's stomach. Lea fell and Diona slashed her across the throat. Her sword was coated with blood.

Then Diona felt pain. A sword suddenly cut into her leg. She staggered. The Lea she had seemingly slain suddenly vanished into thin air. The real one stood behind her. She roared in anger. Her Force Scream was loud enough to produce a large shockwave. Lea was blasted through the air. The pain inside Diona's skull intensified as the red-hot shards were driven through her brain. White noise filled her skull, deafening thought. Then there was bright light, and sensation. Her skin felt like it was on fire. She lifted Lea again and slammed her into some debris.

Diona raised her blade. But as she brought it crashing down, pain surged through her arm. The real Diona had struck her, cutting a nerve. Her arm felt heavy and blood dripped out of it. The manipulations of the Force intensified the pain, turning it into agony. Then she was engulfed by blazing light. When it passed, the landscape had shifted before her eyes. Lea's body had vanished. Indeed they were no longer in the hall.

Instead, they were inside a village. Civilian had been assembled at gunpoint. Men, women and children. They looked fearful. Soldiers clad in Dominion uniforms stood before them, armed with slugthrowers. Diona was one of them. She wore her Jedi robes over a suit of duraplast battle armour.
"We are under orders to requisition the food surplus and conscript all inhabitants on this list," a Dominion officer declared.
"You can't do this left," the village head protested. "This harvest was bad. We barely have anything. Our people will starve."
"The army needs this food. We are at war and without food, our soldiers cannot fight," the vision Diona stated. "I'm sorry, but military needs must take priority."
"But we've given you all we can spare. Look at the fields, do they look bountiful to you?"
"Or perhaps you are hiding your produce? Or you've sold it to Sith?" the Dominion officer cut him off.
"No, we're...loyal citizens," the village head looked around helplessly, sweating. Unrest was breaking out among the villagers. As was anger. "They're gonna take what they want and leave us to starve," he looked back at the soldiers. "You can't do this."
"Listen, all of you!" Diona snapped icily, voice like the crack of a whip. "We have orders to requisition the foodstuffs and villagers on this list. We have no wish to harm anyone but we will use force if necessary."
"No, no. You can't do that. You can't," the village head countered. "These people here have bled for the Dominion. You're here to help us!" The villagers began to close in on the soldiers. One of the troopers shouted to keep them back.
The officer was on the comm with his superior. "Sir, they're refusing to hand over their produce. They're denying us access to the village. How should we proceed?"
"If they refuse, they are guilty of heresy against the Light. Make a salient example of them."
"Sir, did I hear you correctly? You can't seriously mean..."
"Just get it done, Knight Rikard. Decimate the village." The line was cut. "Corporal," he ordered. "Get these people lined up." The soldier nodded. Civilians were grabbed by the troopers and forced to the ground. Villagers screamed, thrashed and struggled. Even children were brought forward.
"Anyone who defies the Dominion is a traitor to the Light. We have orders to decimate the village in case of noncompliance. We will carry out this order, unless the selectees step forward and you show us where you've hidden your produce." Some villagers threw bottles or other objects at the soldiers.
"I repeat, we will carry out this order." To empathise his point, he raised his gun into the air.
"What are we doing, sir?" a clone trooper asked nervously. Knight Rikard looked shocked and a bit helpless as their eyes met. Civilians struggled. Some tried to defend themselves. The air was filled with shouts.
Then Diona stepped forward. She removed her slugthrower pistol from her holster, took aim and shot a young woman in the head. Her brains were splattered and the woman fell backward into the ground, dead. Diona looked down at her hand that held the smoking gun. For a moment everyone seemed frozen in time. Then the soldiers fired. It was as if a leash had come off. The air was filled with the staccato of slugthrower fire. Nine more villagers were gunned down. Diona just stood there as if in trance, with a far away expression on her face. Then the shooting ended. Then there was silence, save for the anguished cries and wails of frightened, grieving and angry civilians.
"It's over." Diona looked up to say Rikard standing above her. "The whole district will know what has happened. There won't be any more resistance." Nine corpses lay on the ground ahead of her. "Why did they do this?" one woman sobbed, tears dripping down her face. The blood seeping out of the wounds of the dead intermixed with the mud on the ground. Diona's eyes fell upon the woman she had gunned down.

Diona saw all of this. She was frozen in time. Paralysed. You killed them. They were innocent, and you murdered them. Guilt ensared her like a vice. It weighed her down like chains. In the face of this, her rage was futile. The more she thrashed and raged, the stronger her restraints became. Wherever she looked, she saw the faces of the dead. Her limbs felt like lead. The voices grew louder, rising to a crescendo. What makes you deserving of life?

Nothing. Tears dripped down her face.

You deserve to die.

Yes.

She found clarity and spun. Her blade carved through Lea's hand and the Inquisitor screamed as the appendage dropped to the floor. Wielding her weapon with her good arm, Diona thrust and the tip of her blade pierced Lea's chest. She stabbed her in the heart. "I'm no Jedi. Nor are you. My victims will judge me. See you in Chaos," she whispered.

Lea was dead.

So was the Grand Inquisitor.

The sounds of battle roared outside of the main building. Heavy guns roared. Outside, rebellious captives were taking their revenge on the guards. Diona could hear the gun fire and shouting get closer and closer. She looked down at her hand. Blood dripped from her arm wound. Then she looked at Elpsis. The girl was bleeding, but stood victorious.

Their eyes locked.

Then Diona perceived movement out of the corner of her eye. She spun. Rhea had emerged from cover. The Rattataki took one look at what was left of the Grand Inquisitor. She was shaking. "You...you killed him," she exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes," Elpsis said flatly. "Now are we gonna have a problem?"

The Rattataki's hands were shaking. Then she suddenly drew her pistol and fired. The slugs flew past Elpsis and hit the breastplate of a guard. The trooper pitched over backward and hit the ground. Rhea lowered the smoking gun. Her expression conveyed hate when she looked upon the Grand Inquisitor's skeleton. "That monster will never touch me again."

"No, he won't." Elpsis' tone had softened a bit.

"Elpsis, you must go. It's a war zone out there. Your people should be close. If you make haste, you can reach them before more Inquisitors come," Diona urged her.

"Prisoners are fighting outside. I'm not gonna leave them."

"Elpsis..."

"I make the decisions now." Then the girl said the last thing Diona expected her to. "You want to atone, come. Come with me if you want to live."

I don't want to live, Diona thought. She followed her nonetheless. To battle, struggle and violence. Perhaps to a good end. Perhaps to the one chance she had to do something right before she was judged for her sins.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The barking of slugthrowers rang through her ears and rain fell from the roiling skies against her cheek, streaming down her face and through her hair. Lieutenant Stalgis was facing her in the mud, the faceless Death Trooper helm was slumped over, laying against the ground. Laira’s hands felt at her stomach, feeling the halberd’s blade jabbing through her armor and into her flesh, having torn through the Death Trooper to get to her.

He was dead. It was the only real certainty she had at the moment.

Whether she was about to follow suit or if her wounds were minor she didn’t know. She didn’t know whether the Dominion’s elites were still forcing them back or if they had clashed against Firemane and the Republican Guard and failed.

A pair of black armored gauntlets grabbed Stalgis’s body, and another took hold of her, grabbing her under the arms, pulling her away from the man’s corpse and back behind cover. Her hands tried to keep ahold of him, but she was forced away, her grip weakened and slippery from the rain. Stalgis was taken behind a different rock, his compatriot checking his vitals while the medic pulled up Laira’s shirt to tend to her wound.

Pain erupted from her stomach as the man stabbed her laceration with a needle. “Feth that hurts!”

“It’s alright. Doesn’t look like it got your stomach, though you might have a perforated intestine.” His fingers pushed into the cut, causing her muscles to tighten from the sudden pain and her to cry out. She grabbed at his arm and leg, clamping down on them with her hands. He clicked something held in his hand, filling the wound with a liquid that had an odd sensation. Almost like a cooling, numbing agent. “That should stop the bleeding and maybe keep close an internal damage. The next part’s gonna suck hun.” She didn’t recognize the voice, her eyes weren’t paying attention to his body language and her Force senses weren’t focused on his essence, but she was sure the medic was Ion, one of the Galactic Alliance Guard.

Staples closed the wound, injected into her skin all at once by a device. Once more her entire abdomen cramped from the pain. “Alright Laira, you should be okay. Do you want to go back to the LZ?”

The redhead grunted, pulling her shirt back down over her stomach, red against the black of the suit. “No, no.” She waved him off, “I can still help. We gotta keep going.”

“Alright,” Ion held a hand out to help her back to her feet. The effort hurt her stomach, a sharp soreness only barely numbed by whatever he had filled her wound with. Hunching over left her aching, but the fighting still seemed to be going on.

~

Fighting rang through the corridors and tunnels of the underground fortress. Many of the remaining refugees from the city were already crying or grabbing up makeshift weapons. General Kennobi remained in his meditation chamber, alone. The command staff’s hope and confidence had faltered, some of them had already fled when the door opened for Jedi Knight Ganther. “Sir, they’ve broken through. We need to start planning an evacuation.” Another Jedi stood behind Ganther, waiting for the instructions.

“No.”

“Sir, we must. The rebels will never accept a surrender and we cannot trust the outsiders to care for our civilians.” Ganther was pleading, but the General’s face remained stoic.

“The children. Send the children at the outsiders. They will either be captured and cared for or die in glorious battle, but at least they will have a chance against them.”

“You can’t be serious. We could still get them out through the southern tunnels. They don’t seem to have been all located.”

“No, there are too many to evacuate, they would be discovered quickly and draw attention to more important officers attempting to escape. Besides, they’d have no chance of surviving in the jungles even if they did manage to get out of the tunnels unnoticed.”

“I’ll see to it General.” The other Jedi said, darting out of the room before Ganther could protest.

“Sir, we may still be able to hold those tunnels long enough. If we withdraw what remains of the Vanguard and commit the regulars to tunnel fighting with the rebels and outsiders they could buy time.”

“There is no time.” The old master sighed, tears welling in his eyes. “I didn’t think we could lose. Leave me.”

The Knight glanced at the Lightsaber in the General’s hands, pausing for a moment as if to protest but decided against it, his face wearing the expression of disgust. He had people to try and save, no reason to continue arguing with an old man that had already given up. He didn’t look back when he heard the saber activate, the sizzle of flesh, or the smell of burning meat reaching his nose.

~

“Incoming.” The Death Troopers distorted voices could be heard echoing the warning. The skirmishing and short light-fights that had broken out since the Vanguard’s release were now joined by a storm of slugthrower fire.

Laira glanced out, the fire inaccurate and wild, hardly reinforcements sent by the Dominion’s elite. Much to her horror, the newly arriving combatants were a motley assortment of women and men, usually the very old or severely wounded, with a large contingent of children. Not padawan teenagers armed to the teeth. Younglings with sharpened sticks, slugthrowers in disrepair, and makeshift clubs roaring at the top of their lungs as they charged from cover.

“It’s civilians, set for stun!” the Jedi Princess yelled, flicking her own pistol over to stun, though she didn’t have much ammunition left.

“What stun?” Ion asked, tapping his slugthrower. Laira’s eyes widened, turning to look at the Firemane troops also fighting nearby. Most of them carried bolters or slugthrowers, the jungles interfered with blasters too quickly to issue them to the troopers. Everyone was carrying weapons for long engagements, slugs and explosives, plasma driven or chemically propelled weaponry with no non-lethal settings to switch to. “We got some coma gas canisters, but not enough.”

“Ion, we have to fall back!”

“That’s what they are counting on Laira. That’s why they sent them. We stand.” Leo responded, chambering his weapon.

“They’re kids! We can’t be out here killing kids! Everyone, fall back!” No one was listening to the injured Ranger. They were soldiers, they knew their duty, as much as it may have pained them to do so. Laira began panicking, rapidly looking for options, anything she could do to prevent the bloodshed.

Decide who to defend, and then do it.

Save the children.

She flicked on her lightsaber and slashed the closest soldier’s weapon, shoving him to the ground to do the same to the next and the next, kicking out the man’s legs with a sharp blow to the side of the knee.

The Force pressed against the back of her head, warning her of impending danger. Her reflexes snapped around, blocking the first several slugs and avoiding a stream of rounds the Firemane troops responded with to the sudden attack. She pulled the Force, fire erupting around her hands. She had wanted to just cut weapons, but she might have to actually hurt them.

The Force didn’t warn her of Leo barreling behind her. He had no ill intent, no malice. If anything he was acting to protect the redhead. Suddenly he wrapped her up and took her roughly to the ground.

Anger rose in her chest, unaware of who was on top of her, trying to pin her down. She reached with the Force and pulled up a spike of rock, taking the trooper on top of her in the face with it. Another set of hands grabbed her, struggling with the redhead until a sharp blow to the back of her head made her vision tunnel, and finally go dark.

“Eye’s up! Be on the lookout for illusionists!” Ion called over the comms. “Take her back down to the LZ, go, go.”

[member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]
[member="Tempest"]

 

[Karrigan'Xalda]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]

It was not a battle anymore.

It was a massacre.

Their 'enemies' were children. Not even teenagers. Their 'weapons' were sharpened sticks, clubs and if they were 'lucky' obsolete slugthrowers. Very few of them would have received any training. They were sacrificial lambs. Deployed by a barbaric régime to die.

Xalda stood. The slugthrower was heavy in her hands. Her cracked rib pained her. Breathing was difficult. She saw the frightened Younglings charge towards them and did something she had not done for a long time.

She froze.

Her hands trembled. She had been here before - on the other side.

"For Myrou, charge! Glory to the Race! The Goddess is watching you!" the priestess had shouted. Then she had sent the young child slaves off to die. To charge into Qadiri cannon fire and a hailstorm of arrows. Xalda had carried a spear that was far bigger than her.

She had been so frightened. She had almost run, but she had been shoved and whipped back into the line. Her friends had charged and she would not abandon them. Then they had died one by one. There had been so much blood and so much death. She had survived. Her friends had not.

The 'Wise Mistresses' had not cared. They had, after all, just been slaves.

Sweat dripped down her face and back. She closed her eyes, focusing on the image flashing before them. Of senseless daughter, of her friends being pierced by arrows or torn apart by cannon balls. All to provide a diversion for the household troops of the cruel mistresses. She had been whipped for sobbing.

Fury gave her clarity. In this moment she made her choice. She stood with her comrades. She opened her eyes, raised her rifle and fired. A staccato of bullets tore through the air. The red-maned human was yelling something about using stun. Xalda was deaf to her. Instead, she fired. She hated herself for it, but did not cease. She chose the mission.

There was a loud ruckus when the human suddenly went bonkers and began cutting through her comrades' rifles. Xalda spun around, taking aim at the crazed human. Who did this woman think she was? This Yedi disgusted her. But then someone had tackled Laira.

"Get Darkhold away from here," Saito barked, as Laira was being pulled away by her Resistance comrades. Her tone was gruff, but though Laira would not see it that way, it was a favour to her. At least some of Firemane's soldiers might have attacked her otherwise. "Xalda, get back in line. Firemane, keep shooting." If the Panathan had been more rested, she could have used her powers to stun the Younglings. Some of them at any rate. But not near enough. Moreover, she was exhausted. The battle had taken its toll on her. So the old soldier gave the order. No matter what barbaric means the Dominion employed, Firemane would not be deterred from its objective. Throwing children at them would not sway them from their course.

Some of the Silencers, those who were more rested, did try to use their powers to use their powers to stun the charging Younglings, wrapping them in an embrace of the Force that deadened their senses and paralysed their limbs to halt their death charge without killing them. But not even remotely enough. Their force was too small, they were too dispersed and they were too tired. Lacking such powers, the Cataphracts and the regulars fired.

Thunder boomed. Rounds cut through the air. Shattercannons roared like thunder. Screams echoed across the forest. Younglings were massacred without pause. Some children tried to run to escape the slaughter.

Death reigned.

Then there was silence. Corpses were strewn across the hill. Firemane troops advanced upon the base, walking past or over corpses. Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won. Saito sent a simple message to command. Purity had fallen.

xxx

Deep within the tunnels leading to the heart of Fortress Purity, the same scene took place. The Younglings, those who more than anyone would have merited the protection of the Dominion and its Jedi, were the last to confront the advancing Republican Guard troops and their Firemane allies.

The soldiers of Viper Company, the Andorian Guard and Reaper Squad hardened their hearts. The Republican Guard hated the Force, but this hatred did not extend to wishing death to all those sensitive to it, save among the most extreme. And in any case, they were children.

Regardless, they fired. This was war - a brutal, dirty one, but then war is not the stuff of fairy tales. They were soldiers. Their lot was not glamorous or heroic. Anger rose inside Freya as she fired her bolt pistol. Synthia and an injured Mezha were at her side. They fired. The barking of slugthrowers rang through their ears. As did the screams. There was no end to the screams.

Until eventually it was all over.

When the Republican Guard finally broke into the base, many centuries of pent-up anger and fury were unleashed. They slaughtered any surviving Dominion troopers or functionaries who had been unable to leave in time or were still in the process of fleeing without mercy. Pleas of surrender, if any were made, were not accepted. Some died quickly after being lined up against a wall and shot by firing squad. The rebels took their time with others. In the end, they were all dead. The Firebird of the Republican Guard was raised on top of the fortress. Many had died for it to be hoisted - and many more would perish in the battles to come.

 

[Tempest]

[member="Karrigan'Xalda"] [member="Laira Darkhold"]

“Glory is a term used only by one who has never seen the true face of war.”

So Colonel Varkathras had heard once. As she had waited back at the staging area there was little for her to do. Forces were committed, the battle was being fought.
Finally, an aide approached and saluted. “Ma’am, Purity has fallen.” They offered a datapad with a collection of reports and scans of the situation provided by those close by.
“Order the artillery to cease fire. I’m going forward.”

Mud and blood. That was the two things which stuck with Leonina as she stalked closer with her entourage. The rain had eventually stopped but the mud was everywhere. Every shell crater was a puddle filled with refuse, bodies and wreckage. Every trench was a swampy maze of impassable, gloopy mud. Everywhere there was dead and dying. Most of them were Dominion or Republican Guard, but a distressing amount wore Firemane armour or gear.

Like a wave crashing and receding, each ebb and flow of the battle had left high watermarks of dead and wounded. Few of the Dominion wounded had survived long. Either their fanaticism had driven them to continue resistance or their enemies had put them down with a shot or stab. Leonina did see a small group taken earlier in the battle in stun cuffs being led away. Their comrades later on had not been so fortunate.

Even Leonina, a veteran of many battles, had rarely seen such carnage unleashed in such a small area. She had to tamp her Force senses down to prevent the sheer horror and death around her becoming overwhelming.
One thing she did sense though was a figure being carried past. Laira.
The woman looked much worse for wear and was clearly unconscious. A battle casualty, she assumed, though the redhead was alive and not fatally hurt.
“Ma’am,” Saito approached and gave a tired salute.
“Sergeant. A rough day. Status?”
“Some dead, some wounded, some missing, ma’am,” the Silencer replied grimly.
Leonina could only nod. “The tunnels?”
“Taken. Eventually. And there’s…this.”
Leonina looked to see the field of young bodies. They had fallen in heaps, many looking like they were sleeping. Many looking much less composed.
“Bastards. They thought it would make a difference. Make us stop firing.” Leonina shook her head sadly.
Saito gave her a look she couldn’t quite interpret. She seemed about to say something, but then stopped. “I…will have a full report for you later, ma’am,” she said meaningfully.
Puzzled, Leonina nodded, continuing up the slope. It was not just the cursed water soaking through it was the mud too. She could feel her fur on her legs getting caked in the stuff through the damage to her suit. She would need a very long, hot bath to get over this.

Leonina passed Xalda halfway up the slope. The Xio looked hurt but alive, resolution burning in her eyes.
She came at last to the tunnels. She was not alone though. The Republican Guard were there, including General Aruunzeb.
There was tension there still, a bit of sizing up. They had won the battle together, but would they continue as allies or as enemies?
The General though approached and saluted. She returned it.
“General, allow me to congratulate you on this combined victory,” she said. She didn’t like playing the diplomat; had not intended to run into the Mon Cal. Now she was here though she might as well act like a leader.
“And to you, Colonel. Your valorous soldiers assisted us greatly.”
There was a stiff formality in the air. Leonina knew she should just disengage and seek out her soldiers. However, she let out a little snort.
“Our massive firepower too!”
There was a pause, and she winced slightly as the Mon Cal goggled at her, but then he let out a strange, seal-like bark. She finally realised this was laughter.
“That too! The Dominion got flogged like never before. I hope we can count on your assistance in the next push?” He extended a flipper.
Leonina took it. It was curiously not damp, probably the only damn thing on the battlefield which wasn’t. “We’ll see what my bosses have to say, General. We’ve done a lot of damage here today to them. The Jedi lost a lot of their best troops here.”
“It’s better even than that. We have just heard through our agents that the Battlemaster has been condemned as a traitor and her armies are in rebellion against the Grand Master. Divided they will fall.”
“Jedi always liked a schism,” Leonina said with a tint of bitterness.
The General glanced at her for a moment. “There is a great deal of talk about loyalty from the bottom to the top. Loyalty from the top down is even more necessary and much less prevalent.”
Fittingly plagiarised quote, but one Leonina could understand. She saluted and headed into the bunker to find the survivors of her assault force….

XXX

“Enemy water craft have been destroyed, ma’am,” the report finally came through.
“Good. Give the order. It’s time to take this place by storm,” Tempest grunted.
The tanks and IFVs skimmed over the water, blasting the last defence platforms and barricades being held by the enemy. Said enemy had slackened, not just from their onslaught, but also from the struggles within the camp.

Tempest could feel Elpsis’ rising power, and everyone in her command could see the fire catch and burn the central building. Stranger still though were the reports she was getting from her cordon and from Mirage Squadron.
A group of Dominion soldiers had attacked skilfully and penetrated her lines to reach the camps. Reinforcements, naturally.
But no, as several groups had confirmed as soon as they were inside they had turned on the Dominion troops and cut them down, seizing a gate for themselves.
Whoever they were and whatever they wanted, Tempest didn’t care. They’d fired on her command, so they were her enemy. What was worse for them is that they were in her way to find Elpsis.

As the vehicles hit the shore and continued up many of the infantry jumped out and provided covering fire whilst the tanks blasted anything. They were hindered somewhat by the short cliffs along the water’s edge except for the small dock area. These cliffs were too steep or broken for vehicles to ascend. They proved no obstacle to her assault troops though.
As Tempest’s jetpack blazed into the air off the tank she landed among the few defenders and set about them. It was not a fair fight. Lightsabre and Beskar plate vs slugs and flak jackets. The last heavy repeater was torn from its mounting like a toy and tossed down into the water. Tempest let out a nearly feral roar as a survivor fired on her. Lighting arced from her hands, seizing and rending the man to pieces. With that, she headed inland. Nothing dared withstand even the sight of her onslaught…nothing until a Jedi took guard that is.

XXX

Nyssa didn’t need a jetpack to climb a stupid embankment. She was a Sith, and the Dark Side was her tool. She would succeed! As she jumped down she threw herself at the cliff, using the Force to propel herself up…though she did end up in a bit of a heap. Fortunately no one was around to notice…though no one would dare mention it even if they had!
A Dominion soldier peered over the parapet at her and received a lightsabre through the chest for their pains. Then Nyssa was among them, her scarlet blade causing ruin, and her snarling visage inspiring panic. She let the weaklings flee before her. She was fixated elsewhere.

XXX

For Varkasa Jai Nansal, leader of the Cataphracts, storming the beach was both easier and harder. The massive armoured suit made ascending the cliffs out of the question, but the dock was hers to take. Jumping down from the tank she was on she and her sisters waded through the shallow water. The guns on their suits and the blades they held cut down any in their path. Following behind the regular infantry, Loyalty at their head, took cover behind their advancing forces and provided a galling fire.
Soon enough the dock was taken.

XXX

The Jedi was in Tempest’s way. Her fiery orange blade hummed in her hand as she approached.
“Jedi, move or die. I don’t care which,” she hissed.
The Jedi, a Kel’dor, unexpectedly stepped back to stand out of her way. “My Master does not wish to fight you. She is not allied with the Grand Master anymore.”
“And she is?”
“Mahtara, Battlemaster of the Jedi.”
The name rang bells. “Whatever her present loyalty, she hitched her wagon to the Dominion’s corpse. Her fate will be as theirs.” That was not Tempest’s call, but this underling was stopping her, and might even be preparing to betray her. Like Elpsis before.
“She was not behind what happened. Will you not listen to her request?”
Tempest snapped her blade up at him, just out of reach. He kept his blade ready but did not parry or counter attack. “What is your name, boy?”
“Jedi Kyrric.”
“Listen to me, Kyrric. You will get out of my path in five seconds or I will cut you down. Take a message to your Mistress. If she wishes for peace she can sue for it, but we will not endure treachery again. The only terms we will accept is the surrender of all forces and the release of all prisoners.”
A little bit of responsibility broke through her surging maelstrom of adrenalin.
“She can sue for peace…my boss will decide what is to be done. Now get. Choose a dozen escorts and leave. The rest of your troops will surrender. We will at least treat them well.”
Kyrric backed away, and then headed away. Soon his survivors were laying down their arms.

Tempest didn’t bother watching. She assigned Loyalty and Varkasa to see to it. She had more important things to see to….

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Tempest"], [member="Laira Darkhold"]

She had resisted as much as she could. Employing the techniques she had been taught to dissemble and empty her mind. When that had not sufficed, she had lied and told tall tales. That had sent them running in circles for a while. It had not been enough. In the end she had broken.

Burning shame and rage filled Mel. In the end they all broke. She had been resigned to become just like...Roxane. All the months of planning and preparation had been for naught. Soon her comrades would be dead or worse. The interrogator had left. She had waited for the inevitable. But nobody had come. Eventually even the guards had left.

And she had heard shouts, screams and gunfire. The noise was getting closer and closer. Blood-curdling screams echoed across the corridor. It sounded like people in the throes of agony. Then there was silence, save for hurried footsteps. She tried to move closer to the door, but the shackles kept her restrained. The collar itched, sending a surge of electricity through her as she strained her senses. Her body jerked.

Then she heard a snap-hiss from outside. She winced. There was a surge of heat, and the door to her cell was cut open. A...being stood outside. It was Roxane...Elpsis? Her skin was flushed with an almost fire-like glow. Indeed one could see burning cracks. Her eyes flared.

Mel recoiled. "Elpsis?" Fear gripped her heart, but also hope.

"Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you." The voice sounded eerie. "Don't touch the collar." Elpsis made a gesture with her hand. Heat spread through the collar like wild fire, burning it at the hinges. Soon it was smoking. There was pain, then the collar fell from her throat. Her shackles followed.

"I owe you. My friends are out there," Mel said in alarm. "We had a plan to escape...but I could not resist. I told them everything. We must save them.."

"We will," Elpsis cut her off. "The Grand Inquisitor is dead. Everyone who wronged us will follow."

Mel took the hand Elpsis offered her. The woman's skin was so hot it felt like she was burning, but the Mirialan did not care. She was feeling a fire of her own. But then she saw her. The Inquisitor's lackey. The murderer. "What the frak is that queen doing here?"

Diona showed no reaction. Elpsis spoke in her stead. "She's with me."

"She's one of them! She did their bidding. She hurt innocent people!" Mel thundered.

"I know. I was one of them. She helped me escape and I killed the one who tormented us all." Elpsis' tone brokered no contradiction. "There is still fighting outside. So I'm going out to help the prisoners. Are you in?"

Mel did not give an answer save for a grunt. Elpsis was already gone, followed by Diona and a Rattataki girl she did not know. All were armed. Outside the cell, bodies littered the corridor. Some guards had been stabbed, others had had their throats or been shot. But many had been burnt beyond recognition. Mel bent down to pick up a carbine and a blade from one of the charred corpses.

The prisoners still in the cells yelled and thrashed. They were set free and streamed out, arming themselves. They were soon liberated of their collars. Their anger was palpable. Mel was caught up in the maelstorm. For the moment, the Jedi Inquisitor was forgotten. Without prompting they seemed to look to the Lady of Flames. She led them to the battlefield outside, where the fighting still raged. Mel followed.

What seemed to be outsiders had broken through the perimeter, but some Dominion troops still resisted. Mel threw herself into battle. With her blade and the Force, she cut through Dominion guards. The Force steadied her aim and guided her slug rounds, making them impact upon her targets. The Rattataki girl charged with her, radiating a fury that matched her own. A torrent of blue-white Lightning arced from her hands, blasting guards and functionaries that survived Mel's slug rounds and blade. Diona fought with them. She swallowed her loathing for the Jedi while she cut through the hated guards. In spite of her hopes, the Inquisitor did not have the decency to perish during her charge.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mel saw Phoebe cut through prison guards with an axe, hewing them down and carving through their skulls. The Nautolan led a group of armed prisoners in a charge to take down the last Dominion minions, using anything from stolen blades and slugthrowers to mining tools and the Force. The screams, shouts and the roar of bullets became a chorus of death. An orchestra of justice. She lent her voice to it. Where the Dominion guards tried to rally, fire swept over them. Heat, light and fire burst forth, an incandescent whiteness of energy, enveloping and burning everything got in its path while she glided, as the air itself seemed to submit to her will. For a moment, it looked like even Elpsis herself was wreathed in flames. Some of the flames even stung Mel. She fought on nonetheless.

xxx

The central building had been consumed by fire. Devoured by her fury. There were bodies everywhere. She was so tired and in pain, and yet alive. Amidst all this, she felt a presence. She knew who it was. Tempest. There were others as well who felt familiar.

The orchestra of retribution was coming to a close. She was surrounded by charred corpses. The girl was tired, feeling as if she was burning out. She dropped to a knee, breathing in deeply and surveyed what she had wrought. Adrenaline kept her going. It was over. Her chains were broken - by her own hands. As she regained her bearings, she heard cheers. Countless voices were shouting in unison.

"What...what are they doing?" she asked no one in particular. "Who are they cheering for?"

"You," Rhea spoke, in a voice filled with awe. Blood dripped down the bald woman's pale face and robes. Some of it her own, some of it that of her enemies. Her blade was similarly coated in ichor.

"I didn't do it for their applause." Her tone was cold. She was coming down from her adrenaline and Force fuelled high. Diona stood close to her, but said nothing. Her expression was unreadable. The girl looked around. Her friends were close. They had come for her. She had not been abandoned. She tried to make her way towards them, but there was such a large throng of people.

Then suddenly a man wearing a scorched prison guard uniform tried to grab her. Blood dripped down her face. "Please...Roxan...Elpsis...mercy," he pleaded, as if he believed this girl could save him. A prisoner gave him a hard kick, but she tried to hold on to Elpsis as if her life depended on her. Further away surviving Dominion personnel were being beaten or strung up on trees, their feet dangling.

"We surrender! Spare us...please!" another voice yelled, this one a woman who seemed to be functionary of some sort.

"We had no choice. We were just following orders." Elpsis recognised the man's aura as that of a guard.

"The hell you did," Mel snarled.

"You were content to hear our screams as long as you had power. It is time for justice," a Nautolan prisoner yelled. It was Phoebe, though Elpsis did not know the woman's name. She carried a blood-stained axe. Her call was taken up by many other prisoners.

"No...no...," the bureaucrat begged. "I tried to improve conditions. I was against the tests and..."

There were so many emotions swirling through the Force. So much anger, hatred and despair. It hurt her head. Her empathy tried to drag her down. Her skull thundered. "Silence," her voice was low, yet it carried nonetheless. When she looked upon the auras of those that begged for mercy, her expression hardened. She soaked up all the anger. After all they had done, they were so craven to lie and beg. All she felt for them was disgust. "When I begged for mercy..."

"No..." The guard died screaming when the flames rushed over him.

"She lives," Elpsis indicated Diona. "The rest of them...die screaming." And so it came to pass. The Dominion soldiers who had surrendered themselves into Firemane custody were safe. Everyone else who wore Dominion colours did not make it out alive. Then at long last the Illyric orgy of destruction had come to an end.

 

[Karrigan'Xalda]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]

((This is the last post for Xalda, Leonina, Mezha and Freya. Wrapping things up for them. Saito's participation was concluded in the Tempest post.))

The battle was over. Purity had fallen. Many had perished in this fight. Most of the bodies belonged to the Dominion or the Republican Guard, but many Firemane soldiers had lost their lives as well. There was no victory without sacrifice. The rain had stopped, but there was mud everywhere. The same applied to blood, wreckage and corpses. Xalda's armour was covered in rain water, blood and mud. Some of it had seeped into her body glove where her armour had suffered damage. She was exhausted. Her limbs felt heavy.

But there was one enduring image that refused to let her crash and rest. The image of young bodies strewn across the fields and lying in the craters. Many of the children looked like they were merely asleep, but many others were far less composed. She refused to avert her gaze when the children's dead eyes stared at her. It would have been cowardice. She would not flinch.

Her sensitive elf ears heard a groan. Quickly she picked up the pace, heading towards the source of the noise. As she closed in, she saw a woman try to crawl her way out a shell crater filled with bodies. The woman wore soiled Jedi robes. She was covered in blood. Her aura was faint. She was not a threat anymore. Xalda did not care. So she raised her slugthrower rifle and shot the Jedi in the leg. The woman cried out in pain. Then Xalda fired again. And again and again. The Jedi was riddled with slug rounds and collapsed in a bloody heap. The Xioquo stared at the corpse, breathing in deeply. Slowly she calmed down. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a bunch of Firemane soldiers moving bodies away. Many were focused on their own casualties, but some were tending towards the corpses of the Younglings and Padawans. She could see troopers digging graves.

Slinging her rifle over her shoulder, Xalda walked over to them. “This one will help you bury them,“ she announced. One of them handed her a shovel and she started digging. When she picked up the body of a Youngling, she did so gently. As if the little girl she cradled in her arms was only sleeping and she dare not wake her. The child was a little Twi'lek. A bullet had gone through her lekku. Xalda took the time to wipe her face clean of blood and dirt and gently close her eyes.

“Mother of the Earth, take these children into your embrace,“ she sung quietly, reciting an old Xioquo hymn while she buried the child. Her voice was soft, almost fragile. “Mother of the Earth, carry them to your heart for them to rest. Mother of the Earth, protect their spirits from the burning light.“ She covered the body with soil. “Oh Mother of the dark earth, let them rest, for their sorrows have at last ended.“

It was only at the end of the hymn that she realised tears were dripping down her face. Angrily, she bit back tears. While she was trying to compose herself, she heard heavy footsteps. Turning around, she saw that one of the Cataphracts had joined her.

“Qadiri,“ she stated. Her tone was terse, but lacked the venom she usually displayed when interacting with her people's hereditary enemy. She was too tired and sad.
“Xioquo.“ There was an awkward pause, as if they were sizing each other up. Xalda searched the other elf for any sign of triumphalism at her weakness. But then the Cataphract just bent down and picked up one of the bodies.
Finally the silence grew uncomfortable and Xalda spoke again. “The Yedi are...vile. Evil. These here...they did not deserve this.“
“No,“ the Qadiri spoke. “Nor did we. 'Wise mistresses', 'Yedi Masters', they are cut from the same cloth. They break souls and build their monuments on the backs of slaves.“
“Yes.“ Xalda said after a moment of hesitation. Until now, the mere idea of any thought of companionship between her and a Qadiri would have been revolting. But had the Qadiri slave-soldiers really had any more choice in the matter than she and her comrades? Or the children that now lay at her feet? “No more 'wise mistresses', no more liars,“ she said quietly, though still loud enough for the Qadiri to hear. “They must pay.“ So they buried the bodies together. Both sung the hymns of their people.

xxx

Some had remained defiant in the face of death, cursing the Guard and proclaiming their loyalty to the Dominion. Others had been stoic and accepted their fate without a word. Others again had begged for mercy. Either way, they had died. The only mercy Mezha gave the few Dominion soldiers and functionaries that had been captured was that of a swift execution. She joined her soldiers in dispatching them. All the anger and fury the Guard had bottled up over the long period of struggle was now unleashed. Mezha only intervened when Synthia and some of her comrades repeatedly beat captives. “Give them a clean death,“ she had grunted in a voice that brokered no contradiction. Discipline had to be upheld. She had executed the captive with a pistol shot.

Now she, Synthia and Freya had reached the command room of the bunker. This part of the complex was as quiet as a graveyard. No one had barred them entrance. Still, the three had been cautious, checking every room during their approach, and remained mindful of traps. The smell of burnt flesh invaded their nostrils. Rifles raised, they forced the door open and burst in.

Only to find that General Kennobi was already dead. There was a burning hole inside his chest. The smell of ozone was in the air. His lightsabre lay at his side. There was no one else in the Spartan room. “Bastard,“ Synthia spat angrily. “Sends his slaves to die and offs himself like a coward.“ She squeeed the trigger, shooting two slug rounds into his corpse.

“We should hang his body outside for all to see. All of Tephrike will know of the Dominion's hypocrisy and cowardice,“ Mezha spoke, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. “They won't be able to stop us this time. Not again.“

“Slaves. That's all we 'mundanes' are to them. But it seems they don't even care about their Jedi children,“ Synthia muttered disdainfully. “Let's search the room. They would have grabbed anything of import, but they may have missed something.“

Stepping in, Freya bent down and spat on the Jedi General's body. She looked contemptuous. But then there was a gleam in her eyes. “Like that?“ she asked rhetorically, pointing a finger at his lightsabre. “It's mine.“

“I don't think so,“ Mezha interjected firmly before Freya could grab the weapon. “I blew up the tank and rescued you from that Jedi. I earned it, offworlder.“

“Did you hit your head hard, Vongie? I didn't need rescuing from anyone,“ Freya grunted. “And all you did was sneak up on the frakking tank while I drew its fire. And I beat the chit out of a Jedi Master.“

“So did I – without fancy power armour.“

“Just cut in half and take a piece home,“ Synthia interrupted with an air of exasperation, feeling a bit frustrated by the childish bickering about a glowstick.

The argument was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Mezha and Synthia visibly tensed when Colonel Leonina Varkathras stepped into the room. The Yuuzhan Vong's eyes immediately went to the lightsabre the Cathar Force Master carried on her side.

“Ma'am,“ Freya grunted curtly. She was not the type to click her heels and salute.

“Sergeant Solveig,“ Leonina glanced towards the two Republican Guard soldiers. The tension was strong in the air. She was a Force-User, their entire life had made them revile her kind. And she could not even blame them after all she'd seen. “Mezha Krazhmir and Synthia Vao, I assume. Good work outside there.“

“Yeah, you might've been a little useful. Not that I needed help,“ Freya admitted a bit reluctantly. “Wouldn't mind seeing you lot again. Maybe.“

“Yeah. Don't think I'd mind seeing you again either,“ Mezha responded to the blonde human. She forced herself to look the Forcewielder in the eye. Compelled herself not to lose control. But she could not relax. The woman could not use her magic to manipulate her. Being a Yuuzhan Vong, she was free of the curse. Nonetheless, the offworlder's presence set her teeth on edge. “I did my duty for my people. We Tephriki may not have starships and space weapons of tremendous power, but we are a hard people. And the Guard will continue fighting anyone who would oppress us till we're free,“ she said. “We won't let Force-Users toy with our lives anymore.“

“Firemane's soldiers fight well. Will you be joining the next offensive?“ Synthia asked a bit more diplomatically, as if to avoid a possible incident so soon after the battle had come to an end.

“Up for my superiors to decide,“ Leonina spared Kennobi's corpse a look. “So that's him,“ she muttered. She sounded...disappointed. “There was a Jedi called Obi-Wan Kenobi once. He was an actual guardian of peace and justice. Now all we have are...frauds, cowards and murderers,“ she turned to the soldiers. “Not all Force-Users are monsters...but many let power get to their head. Too many.“ Then she walked out.

Mezha turned to Freya. “So I guess this is goodbye then.“

“Yeah, whatever. Don't get all sentimental on me,“ Freya grunted. “You know what, keep the glowstick. Go stab some Jedi arseholes with it and don't get yourself blown up when I'm not 'round.“

“You too, Freya.“

And then it was just her and Synthia. “You done flirting?“ The Twi'lek's voice came from the other side of the room, which she was searching for anything of note. There was a note of irritation in her tone, but also something else.

Mezha joined her. “You alright?“ A pause. “Dumb question, I know.“

“It's gotta end, Mez. Those dead slaves out there. They coulda been me. Hell, there were clones of me outside. I killed them. And those kids? They never had a chance. And it's not even the first time. It's barbaric. Sick,“ Synthia's tone was heavy with sorrow and guilt.

“Yes, but we can't give up now. We gotta press on and burn the Dominion down, whatever it takes,“ Mezha insisted. It was war. People died. “If we don't, more clones will be grown to be slaves and more kids will be brainwashed into being drones.“

“Who said anything about giving up? Only a coward would. There's only way to end this and that way leads through Nexus and Maysaf. We got to kill these monsters. Jedi, Sith, all of them. This our world – our home – and we must take it.“

“We must and we will. I promise you.“

xxx

Fortress Purity was teeming with Firemane and Republican Guard troops. The Dominion had fought a battle to the knife, but their command staff had cleared out of the base before it was stormed. The Younglings had been their sacrificial lambs. Nonetheless, soldiers and technicians were crawling over the place, trying to find anything that could be value that might have been left behind. Anything that could give them an advantage. She passed a few Dominion soldiers who were being led away in chains. Only very few prisoners had been made. Many Dominion troops had fought to the death – and by the end of the battle, both Firemane and the Guard had been more inclined to shoot Dominion soldiers out of hand, even those that laid down their arms.

The corridors were still filled with dead bodies. Cleanup would take ages. The stink of death was strong in the air. There was so much death that Leonina had to close off her Force Senses to keep herself from being overwhelmed. She thought on the words she had spoken to Freya and the two rebels earlier. Once she had been a member of a Jedi Order. She had proud to be a part of an ancient order that been the guardian of peace and justice in the Galaxy for millennia. She had devoured stories of the deeds of great Jedi heroes like Lord Hoth, Mace Windu, Luke Skywalker and strove to fight evil.

Then Jedi after Jedi had deserted or turned traitor. Her own master had been one of them. The Republic had succumbed to corruption, treason and ineptitude. Time and again, Jedi had done more harm than good. On Tephrike, Jedi had wholly lost their sense of proportion. It was an extreme case, but far from an isolated one. Today, there were Jedi who bedded Sith or fought on their behalf, refusing to answer calls for aid from fellow Light-Siders. They held conclaves where the same platitudes about unity and combating the Dark Side were repeated again and again. Jedi who turned to evil were accepted back into the fold with barely a slap on the wrist. A myriad groups of so-called militant Jedi proclaimed they would take the fight to the Sith, but achieved nothing beyond taking out a cult or a warlord and calling it a crusade.

Some would argue that Tephrike showed that now more than ever the Galaxy needed Jedi. But to Leonina, that sounded like the height of hubris. Of arrogantly proclaiming that 'the Galaxy cannot do without us.' The Light had existed before them and would continue to exist without them. Once the Jedi had stood for something noble and just. But their time had passed; their name was sullied beyond repair. It's time for the Jedi to end.

Some Firemane and Republican Guard soldiers were sharing smokes and rations. For this moment, they were still comrades. How long that would last was another question. But it was not Leonina's call to make. One potential headache for later. “Lieutenant,“ she called her aide-de-camp over to her. “Send a transmission to the Scarlet. Inform Director Alcori that,“ she paused for a moment. “Tell her, Fortress Purity is ours and fairly won.“

 

[Tegaea Alcori]

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] [member="Laira Darkhold"]

Emotions could be tricky, Tegaea knew that well. Right now she was fighting against the desire to hear news, and a desire to not hear news. After all, like Schrödinger’s cat, once you had heard the news it was set, fixed. Pacing up and down the deck, barely containing her anxiety, she was at last relieved with Nalia approached. The Eldorai looked happy…this was good news.

“Message from Colonel Varkathras; ‘Purity is ours and fairly won.’ She reports that the last enemy resistance has been silenced and that the Jedi commanding is dead. Republican Guard forces are occupying defences to hold against any counter attacks.”
There was murmuring from the bridge. No one cheered…but the mood was happy.
“Excellent. Once the storm is lifted dispatch fresh troops to hold our defences whilst the wounded and dead are removed.”
“Yes, ma’am. Oh…and news from Major Tempest’s force.”
Tegaea almost screamed in frustration that the Eldorai was holding her in suspense. “Proceed,” she said as calmly as she could.
“Elpsis is alive and recovered, ma’am. She’s badly hurt, but she managed to destroy the Grand Inquisitor. She is being evacuated now.”
Tegaea offered a small prayer to any deities who might exist. There were times when being an atheist were problematic.
“See that she receives the best care. Have the chief surgeon and the Vashyada healers attend to her the instant she arrives. See that Major Tempest and Colonel Varkathras reports to me as soon as they arrive for a debriefing.”
“Yes, ma’am.”

Tegaea felt like she’d just run a marathon. Relief coursed through her. This whole exercise was not for nothing after all. She could breathe again. Elpsis was alive, and though her injuries sounded serious hopefully time would heal her mind and body.
With purpose she headed to the secret communications room and took a seat at the Enlightenment controls. This message was sent with Alpha priority, to be taken straight to her wife.
Dominion forces defeated in battle at Fort Purity. Elpsis recovered alive but badly injured. Will update on condition when she arrives. Losses light. Tempest, Varkathras victorious. More news to come.

The message was sent. A look at the chrono showed that it was early morning where Siobhan was. Still, she’d get it soon enough.
It was a few minutes before she realised she was staring blankly at the desk. The attendant was politely standing off to one side. Tegaea rose.
“Carry on.”
Tegaea headed from the room. More surprises would soon await her. A Jedi who Elpsis was attached to, the news of the Battlemaster’s defection and offer. Things for another time. For now, Tegaea headed to the hanger bay to await her daughter’s return. She cast a look at Tephrike below. A benighted place far from civilisation which had been the graves of countless. What would she do next there? Questions for tomorrow.

XXX

Another surprise would soon confront Firemane, though it would come from an unlikely source and cause.

The bunker below nexus city trembled slightly as a nearby impact dislodged some dust.
The Grandmaster stood over a situation map. Little pieces of wood with symbols painted on them showed armies and legions.
“As you can see, Master, the situation at Fortress Purity is grave. We have lost contact, and Master Karana has felt Master Kennobi join the Force. The enemy is advancing here, here, and here.”
The Grandmaster seemed unconcerned. “The First and Second Legions are in position and will smash them at once.” He moved some more tokens onto the map. There were a lot of glorious Dominion pieces and few enemy ones.
Dead silence. The Jedi and soldiers shifted uncomfortably. “Grandmaster…” one began.
“The First and Second Legions have…disengaged. They are not following orders.”
Gently, delicately, the Grandmaster placed the small piece of wood on the map. “Karana, Cassius, Varus will stay. Everyone else will leave.”
There was a shuffling, sympathetic glances to those left behind. Then the door closed.
The Grandmaster slammed his fist onto the map, rattling the pieces. “I gave them an order! Who are these people to refuse me? I, I am the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, the light in the darkness! And yet these traitors and criminals betray us. You have all failed to enforce purity in your ranks! The Council is full of backsliders!”
“Master, I will not let you say such things about your Council,” Cassius said.
“The Council are traitors, criminals, fallen Jedi! It is no wonder that these Sithspawn from the stars have defeated you, you are all in league with them! You’re all nothing but a pack of lackies to the Sith!”
He slumped in his chair. “I…I am chosen by the Force. Dark rises, and Light to meet it. I will bring order to this chaos, to this ruin! I will summon all the Jedi and the loyal people, I will lead a crusade which will purge the Sith, their Vong allies and these enemies from the stars. I have no further use of any of you.”
He looked at Cassius darkly. “You especially disappoint me, Cassius. I had thought my Padawan was beyond taint, but it seems not. Send for my Inquisitors and Purity Officers. I will fix this situation which none of you can.”
Varus began to speak, but Cassius overrode him. “Of course, Master, I shall summon them immediately. It may take some time.”
“Make haste, lest I think the Dark Side has tainted you irrevocably as well.”

Leaving the room Varus turned on Cassius. “We’re all dead, you know that, right?”
Cassius turned, tightened jaw. “Not if he dies first. The cursed enemy still drops bombs on the city. Were one to hit him he would be a glorious martyr to the cause.”
“He never leaves the Akk’s Lair. Unless you mean…” Karana said slowly.
Cassius wanted to slap her for her obliviousness. “We will catch him as he walks through the corridor of heroes. Varus, see to the guards, Karana, have the Council in session. I will ensure there is a clear path to the surface and some theatre.”

The ‘Corridor of Heroes’, an ironic name indeed for the Dominion. On one side stretched the heroes of the Old Republic like Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda. On the other side were the matching heroes of the Dominion. The statue of Mahtara opposite Yoda had been hastily removed, and curators had just covered the statue of Kennobi with a black pall.
The Grandmaster stalked between them, angrily muttering and considering what he would do to the traitors and criminals. To think he had been so blind that the treason of the Council had escaped him. That was the only explanation for the defeat; treason, heresy, the Dark Side. It clouded all, after all.
As he just approached the statue of Mace Windu he saw Master Varus was waiting for him. He sensed other figures around him, but figured they were just his bodyguards and attendants.
“Ah, Varus, are the Inquisitors assembled?”
“They are, Master, and await you.”
Varus’ voice was unsteady. This pleased the Grandmaster. “Varus…return me my legions and I will consider your purity to still be above question.”
“Alas, Master, they will not be returned to you.” With that he stepped forward and tore the outer robe from the shocked Grandmaster.
“What is this insolence? Have you lost your reason. Guards, seize the traitor!” He looked around triumphantly. Robed and uniformed figures were indeed approaching, but they were forming a circle around him. “So it’s treason then…” he whispered.
The flare of the lightsabre lit up the dark corridor. It was only right that the Grandmaster had one of those ancient relics. However, the weapon had seen better days, better centuries. The blue blade sputtered and hissed as he stood at bay before his idol.
Karana moved first, coming from the side with an elegant stab. The Grandmaster parried it, but in doing so left himself open to Varus. The imbued blade pierced robes and flesh, a nasty wound to the side.
“Help! Treason! The Sith assail me, aid your Master!” he shouted. In vain. Wildly he slashed, then unleashed the Force to knock his enemies back. He never saw Karana move like a shadow to strike his right leg.
The lightsabre fell, and the assassins moved in, blades rising and falling in a frenzy.
At the last, as he lay dying against the statue of Mace Windu, the Grandmaster saw one final figure approach.
“You…too…Cassius?”
“Your madness must end. I’m sorry.” Without compunction or hesitation he picked up the sputtering lightsabre and struck off his Master’s head. The blade, by luck or design, scored through the name of Mace Windu on the plinth.
“Quickly, clean this, move the body to the surface and set off the explosive. Convene the Council and tell them the Grandmaster was slain by the Sithspawn as he heroically toured the ruins. Do it now!”
Now the Dominion would not be led by a madmen but by sane individuals. They had lost the battle, but the war was very much still to be won….

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Tegaea Alcori"]

Battlemaster Mahtara was still deep in meditation when Kyrric contacted her. She did break her meditation or open her eyes, for she did not need to. "Report, Kyrric. What is your status? Do you have the girl in hand?" She did not ask him if he was alright. The fact that he was in a position to call her was proof of this.
"I'm sorry, Master. I have failed," the Kel Dor said regretfully. He seemed unsettled. Whether this was because he had been unable to complete his task or it had forced him to fight against his comrades was another question.
Mahtara remained calm. "Explain."
"As you commanded, we used the chaos to approach Serene Springs and fooled the guards into thinking we were reinforcements. Then we struck. We were able to push through, but by that time the centre was in flames. This...girl, she was burning anyone who came close and the prisoners had risen alongside her. On the other side, the outsiders had attacked with great force. We could not match their floating tanks and armoured soldiers."
"Continue."
"I decided to approach their commander. A 'Major Tempest'. I relayed your message to her, but she was not cooperative. She said she would pass it on to her masters, but demanded my troops surrender."
"And you ordered them to lay down their arms."
"I wanted to spare them from a death that would have served no purpose," Kyrric responded.
"I see," Mahtara said thoughtfully, then pointed a finger at her student. "I have lived more than four hundred years. How many battles do you think I have lost? How many regrets do you think I carry in my heart?"
"Master..."
"A great many. The fools who surround the Grandmaster would have you believe that it is more righteous to condemn yourself and your troops to death rather than acknowledge that some battles cannot be won. Pride is a stepping stone to the Dark Side, Kyrric. A Jedi's life is sacrifice, but it must be not be performed carelessly."
"I...understand. But, Master, there is more. Grand Inquisitor Antonius is dead."
Now Mahtara looked intrigued. "Interesting. Are you certain he no longer lives?"
"I am sure, Master. I felt him join the Force. He was in great agony."
"The outsiders may have done us a service," Mahtara muttered. "Force willing, their lust for vengeance will have been sated. Regardless, we have no time to waste. Return to Nexus City and link up with the Second Legion. May the Force be with you."
"And with you, Master."
The connection was cut and Mahtara was left alone with her thoughts. She stared upon the map the situation map. Little pieces of wood with symbols painted on them showed armies. With a heavy heart, she removed the Dominion piece from Fortress Purity. Then suddenly her vox-com beeped. She frowned, having not expected a call yet. She picked up the small com. She was even more intrigued when she accessed the heavily encrypted transmission. It was short, to the point and from a certain individual in the inner circle of the Grandmaster.

"GM dead. Sithspawn. We need you back. The gates are open."
Mahtara read the transmission again, then sent a quick response. "Supreme command. With full freedom of action within and without."
A moment later, she got a response. "Granted."
She heard the sound of heavy boots on the ground, coming from behind her. A moment later, a door opened and a tough-looking, scarred Zabrak clad in armour that resembled that worn by Clone Commanders of yore, albeit with camo painting, entered. "High Marshal, the legions await your command. What are your orders?"
"The Tyrant has perished, Eeth. So has the Grand Inquisitor. Inform the men that our leader was slain by Sithspawn, with the collaboration of the Inquisition. Operation Apotheosis is to be initiated. Enter Nexus City and seal off the capital. Neutralise the Inquisition."
"Yes, Marshal," the Clone Marshal Commander snapped to atention, then muttered in a less reverent tone. "About bloody time."
"Indeed, indeed. And this time...I will do it right."

Within a short span of time, the clone troopers of the First and Second Legion entered Nexus City. In most cases the city guards and the soldiers manning the checkpoints had been instructed to let them pass. In some cases, persuasion was needed. Operation Apotheosis was an emergency continuity of government clan, to be initiated in the case of a breakdown of civil order, such as caused by mass uprisings, terror bombings or the elimination of government principals.

However, it could be...repurposed. It helped that the Grandmaster was evidently dead. So was the Grand Inquisitor. Moreover, bombs had rained down from the sky, levelling the Jedi Temple and other strategic buildings as well as wreaking havoc on infrastructure. This clearly constituted an emergency. Fortunately, the first thing the conspirators did was take control of communications. And so local military commanders across the Dominion would receive the following message:

The Grandmaster is dead!
He was cruelly murdered by the Sithspawn's bombs while rescuing civilians trapped in the ruins. An unscrupulous clique of Inquisitors alien to the front has attempted, under the exploitation of this situation, to betray the hard-struggling front and to seize power for their own selfish purposes.
II. In this hour of greatest danger, the High Council of the Dominion of Light has declared a state of military emergency for the maintenance of law and order and at the same time has transferred the executive power, with the supreme command of the Grand Army of Light, to me.

The government district was closed off. Ministries were occupied by soldiers. One of the first targets was the Ministry of Enlightenment. The Minister was busy dictating a declaration while feeling up the ample bosom of a young Twi'lek Padawan when soldiers burst in. "Minister, you are under arrest for your complicity in the murder of the Grandmaster."
For a moment he looked aghast, then his features hardened. "No, you have been deceived! The Grandmaster is alive!" he shouted, "and I can prove it."
He limped over to his communicator, picked it up and dialled a number. He listened for a while. "Is this the Grandmaster's headquarters? Hello...Grandmaster's headquarters..." He hung up. "The treason runs deeper than I thought," he declared in amazement." He hobbled around in his office. "This cannot be. Contact the Grand Inquisitor. He will get to the bottom of this. This is a conspiracy against the Dominion. Soldiers, it is your duty to arrest the traitors. Mahtara is behind this. She was always a Sith in her heart. As was Varus and that coward Karana. They are plotting to sell us out to the Sithspawn." While he ranted and paced, his young lover used the opportunity to straighten her robes and sneak out, before anyone decided to arrest her for moral crimes.
The clone trooper officer stepped forward. "The Grand Inquisitor is a traitor. Minister, in the name of the High Marshal of the Grand Army of Light, Battlemaster Mahtara, you are under arrest. Come with me voluntarily or I shall have to use force."
The Minister started to say something, then closed his mouth again. His fire had dimmed. His back seemed to slump. "Mark my words, Major, this is not over. You will bear full responsibility for this travesty. The true followers of Light will not yield." Then he was cuffed and led out.

Not all arrests proceeded this easily and bloodlessly. Fighting took place at the Ministry of Harmony. There, Inquisitors and Purity Officers had barricaded themselves inside the building. Approaching clone troopers were greeted by heavy machine gun fire and missiles. Jedi clashed in the streets. A frontal assault on the ministry building failed. Then another. Finally, the attackers decided they had enough and bombed the building with artillery. When the most fanatical Inquisitors retreated to the underground banker, the clone troopers lobbed in gas through the vents before collapsing it with explosive charges.

xxx

Far away from Tephrike, Siobhan was asleep. She had stayed in the office, dealing with the progress of the campaign when not pacing the command room like a hungry Cylix in need of some meat. Staff officers and bureaucrats had given her a wide berth, fearful she might sink her teeth into them and bite their heads off. Until Kaylah had taken her aside and told her to get some damn rest.

She had been quite inclined to bite her head off - metaphorically. She had argued and reprimanded her, then eventually relented. It still felt wrong to be resting while her troops were fighting light years away. True, her wife was not in the thick of things, but those barbarians had targeted her with Force nukes. For all she knew, they could do it again. They could have done it while she was asleep. She should have razed the damn capital and salted the earth it stood on. It would be justice.

Her bed felt empty without her wife. For a change, Siobhan had elected to sleep alone instead of taking a pretty girl or boy or more to keep her warm. It would have been wrong to enjoy herself under these circumstances. After a lot of tossing and turning, she gave up on sleep and got up. She threw on a robe to cover her nakedness and put on some slippers, then headed to the kitchen.

She was busy making Atrisian tea, when Harmony approached. The Dahomian looked tired and dishevelled. "Uh, there's a message for you, Lady Mistress. From Mistress Alcori," she said a bit tiredly.
"Give it to me," Siobhan said ordered impatiently, more or less snatching it from the other woman's hands. She looked at it, read it. Then read it again. "Elpsis has been freed," she said incredulously. "The battle is won."
"That's wonderful news, Mistress!"
"She's alive," Siobhan took a deep breath. "Compose a message to Tegaea, call Maerys and Kaylah. I want a press declaration within the hour. Tell the press officers that...Firemane has struck back and is victorious on all fronts."