Junction LIMINALITY || ME & DIA Junction of Orinda & Empty Resource Hex

[Arden Priest]

WARBAND REBUILDER
Eol Sha - UniCorp Refinery
TAGS: Kei Amadis | Laphisto | Indirect: Aether Verd | Persephone Halcyon | Liorra ​

Arden stayed crouched behind the collapsed coolant pipe, Persephone's warning still ringing in his ear: It's afraid. The thought gnawed at him, absurd and humanizing in a place like this. Whatever pity it might've stirred died in the roar of blasters and the scream of burning metal. There was no mercy left on Eol Sha.

He shifted, scanning through smoke and heat distortion. Thermal picked out movement: massive signatures, hot and fast. Wookiees, pushing hard through the gaps the worm's carcass had left. Arden sighted the first one, waited for the stagger of its stride, and squeezed the trigger. The bolt punched through its pauldron and dropped it screaming into the molten mud.

"Line's breaking east!" someone called.

"I see it," Arden snapped, rising into a crouch. "Warband Rebuilder, pivot to the coolant line! Use the slag for cover, three-round bursts!"

His men moved like ghosts, white-and-silver armor streaked with ash. Fire washed the ground around them, smoke curling low. They fell back by squads, short controlled bursts covering the next group's retreat. A Rebuilder gunner dropped to a knee, laid down suppressive fire, then took a Wookiee bolt through the chest plate. Arden was already there, hauling the body clear with a grunt, dragging the man behind a broken strut.

"Hold on," he muttered, pressing a patch over the armor's breach. "You're not dying on my line."

The sky split again: gunship fire, tearing through the storm. The Diarchy's LAHT screamed overhead, chewing the air into ribbons. Arden felt the tremor in the ground as one struck the fireworm's corpse, the shockwave tossing him flat. Molten debris rained like liquid glass. He rolled behind a girder, visor cracked, lungs burning from the heat.

Through the flickering feed of his HUD, he saw the Lilaste Order advance: efficient, spectral. "They're cutting off the west approach," he growled. "Rally Master, we're pulling out. North ridge. Now!"

He rose, firing one-handed as he backed away. A Wookiee charged through the haze, roaring; Arden sidestepped, drove his vibroblade up through its ribs, and shoved the body aside.

The Warband fell back through smoke and ash, boots crunching over scorched glass. Behind them, Rig Four burned, the worm's molten remains and the Diarchy's ghost soldiers devouring the field.

Arden didn't look back. Survival was victory enough.

-Exit Thread-
​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

​

Objective: Chapel

Gear: 785MK Firepuncher-X sniper rifle | Ori Sidaki “The Big Ripper” | WESTAR-34 blaster pistol | Beskad | Euk Siha service knife | Lightsaber

Tags: Mika Tai En || Nearby: Warpriest Prime | Lord Mettallum | Rowena-022 | Vytal Noctura






Warpriest Prime's forces led the charge against the front entrance of the chapel across the glassy field of brilliant blue Blackstone. The droids holding the front line gave as good as they got, but air support blew open a gap in their line that the Mandalorian forces took advantage of. Domina's booming voice echoed almost intelligibly above the din. Adelle, for her part, did not follow the charge to the front doors of the chapel. Her time in CorSec had seen her used to cut off escape routes, or inflitrate obliquely, tackling the mission from a two-pronged offense. It became habit to look for quieter means of entrance. And there were usually other ways to enter a chapel, even as ancient as this one.

The Knights she was part of seemed to be of the same mind, their veteran using hand signals to point out their means of entering the chapel. They moved through the surge of soldiers and blasterfire around to the side of the chapel, where a small door to a vestibule sat. Two of the Knights took cover outside the door, surveying the approach to the door. Adelle and the veteran Knight entered the chapel vestibule. An archway lined with runes opened up to the main sanctuary hall, green, blue, and red light strobing in the dim light beyond. A smaller door sat nestled in an adjacent wall. The veteran Knight used hand signals again: she was to venture deeper into the chapel while he held the opening to the vestibule. Adelle nodded and palmed the small door open. Stairs led into the darkened basement, where catacombs and vaults lay in wait. Her visor switched over to night vision as she descended.

LIMINALITY

Objective: Chapel: Dark Knowledge
Location: Paecian Chapel, Eol Sha
Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Anyone in the chapel

​

The planet of Eol Sha was a flurry of activity. Though Mika didn't particularly enjoy it, the lessons of being a shadow had taken pretty quickly. Because of that the Knight of the Dark Queen was able to avoid any of the fighting on her way to the Paecian Chapel. It wasn't that she was looking to avoid conflict. She was quite literally created for combat. On the other hand, Mika had learned recently that the intent of her creators was not always the proper method for what would benefit her. She was still building her truth, growing her power and knowledge as she decided what she would be in the galaxy. When booted feet touched the floor of the chapel she paused and took in a deep breath. It was filtered air through her helmet, but the action allowed the energy of the chapel to flow through Mika. There was power here for the taking. Power she could use herself and share with her Queen.

How the Force chose simple miners to unbury the treasure that was this chapel was beyond Mika's comprehension. And it did not matter now. The only thing that mattered was collecting as much of the treasure for the Dark Court as she was able. The intrusion of so many Mandalorians on such sacred ground was disappointing. It wouldn't cause Mika any pause, however. If they got in her way she would not hesitate. The power held here was divine, but if she could not have it, she would do what was necessary to keep it from potential enemies.

The knight scurried around the edges of the chapel. She knew that there were quicker ways to her prize. But the quickest way was not always the smartest way. She desired the treasure held in the chapel. The violet lighting on her bodysuit was dimmed as Mika used stealth to make her way through the activity of the chapel. She knew it was foolish to think that she would make it to her goal undetected. But that didn't mean she should step up to the first fight that offered itself to her. She moved with smooth purpose. A confrontation was coming. That much was certain. There was only a question of who and when.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Armor
  • Pulsiva Mk.II Bodysuit
• Weapons
  • Kurokage – Primary standard lightsaber – Violet blade
  • Yorukage – Unfinished shoto lightsaber – Red Wine blade

She picked up on a Force presence long before her HUD pinged proximity, and then only it pinged when she was very nearly on top of the other being. Their armor bore no insignia and certainly wasn't beskar'gam. Adelle slowly reached for her beskad with her right hand, left hand flexing and finding her lightsaber hilt in the Force.

"Identify yourself," she said, her voice quiet in the dark stillness. The pressure she'd been feeling in the Force reached a peak--the storm was about to break.

 

[Rowena-022]

Location: Long Hallway, Paecian Chapel - Eol Sha
Objective:

• Reach the altar in the Paecian Chapel.
• Claim the Chapel’s power for the Goddess.

Tag: Warpriest Prime Lord Mettallum Vytal Noctura Darth Keres Edward Ashcard Adelle Bastiel Siv Kryze Veyla Krinn Mika Tai En

​

“Perish, heretic!!” Rowena roared as she fired at the crimson-bound Witch. Unfortunately, her shots splashed harmlessly against the woman’s energy shield, a defense frustratingly similar to her own. Undeterred, the gynoid snapped back onto target and made ready to fire again. She had no intention of letting up.

However, before she could do so, the sudden interference from the false prophet of the so-called Maker tore the fight from her hands, compelling Rowena to break off her attack.

Catching sight of the blaster fire in her periphery, Rowena shifted laterally. Unfortunately, the movement was hampered by the injury to her left thigh. As a result, a particle bolt slammed into the shimmering barrier of her energy shield, causing it to flare a brilliant, searing white, followed by a second bolt which struck the same quadrant a split-second later. The shield flickered, a patch over her torso dissolving into nothingness as the system failed locally. A fraction of the second bolt's energy—still immense—punched through, scorching her bodysuit’s armorweave and sending a heavy shock through her synthetic frame.

Her features gave a sharp, mechanical twitch as her sensors were briefly consumed by static, systems scrambling to reboot. Nevertheless, though momentarily staggered, Rowena leveraged her repulsorlift nodes for a lurching, powerful burst of lateral acceleration several meters to her right side and back. The maneuver was graceless but effective, placing the Witch’s crimson-clad form directly between her and the false prophet’s line of fire.

Only Lord Mettallum had designs of his own. "Maza on'sila!" Vytal hissed. The blade melted and enveloped Vytal as the humanoid conflageration swept away from Rowena as the thing's reckless blaster fire erupted. "Empty, hollow, husk of metal. Begone!" The flame solidified for a moment in order for a bolt of lightning to streak through the room toward the droid eager to purge the organics, or those like them.

Seizing the opening, Rowena immediately resumed her assault. Blaster pistol snapping back on target, the gynoid fired once more, discharging two more three-shot bursts aimed for Witch’s upper back from point blank range, intended to strike while she was occupied with unleashing her lightning at the prophet. "The blood of a Witch for the Dark Queen!" She declared in a fiery hymn to accompany the searing bolts!

Spoiler: Loadout

• DC-H.R.D. “Obsidienne” Series
• Sacred Shadow
  
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Faithful Heart
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-500x FAE/S-08 Electro-Scope
    • Silencer
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S4 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium X Gas and Freelol Coolant (10)
• Nox M-10 “Wraith”
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Nox Suppressor
  • Ammunition
    
    • Power Cell (10)
    • Gas Canister
• FAE/MDE-02-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (4)
• Miniaturized Infrared Smoke Grenade (2)

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

• Rowena uses her energy shield to take two shots from Mettallum’s blaster. The second shot overloads the shield locally and a bolt punches through, scorching her bodysuit and causing a system shock.
• Rowena uses her repulsorlifts to boost back and to her own right, thereby interposing Vytal’s form between her and Lord Mettallum.
• Using her blaster pistol, Rowena fires two three-shot bursts at Vytal’s upper back from roughly point blank range.

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

My objective is complete, so I have no reason to stay. The ship initiates hyperspace procedures. The countdown begins. I start a little early, knowing it takes the system a short moment to adjust.

Through the viewport, I watch the explosion of the second sun it vanishes as suddenly as it appeared, followed by waves of radiation. Nyva did an excellent job; she followed my instructions to the letter and kept her composure. She's earned herself another commendation today. The fact that I allowed her to fire using my own ship is a sign of trust. As for me, I simply wanted to enjoy the spectacle with a cold beer in hand.

As I savor the moment, the ship's alarm suddenly goes off.

[Hyperjump in 15 seconds.]

I managed to infiltrate a warehouse and seize several crates of agrocite on behalf of the Diarchy. From a strategic standpoint, victory is mine. While everyone else was fighting at the chapel, I took the opportunity to secure the cargo. This will grant our faction the right to exploit it, despite the chaos. As head of Research and Development for the Diarchy, I think long-term.

With these crates of pure agrocite ore, we'll be able to manufacture all sorts of useful things enough to power our army and our ships. Honestly, that Force nexus everyone's fighting over? I couldn't care less. I wanted something tangible weaponry, resources and I got it. Now I can leave with my head held high.

[3… 2… 1… Jump in progress.]

The ship shoots through space. I'm heading back to Bastion; my mission is over. I have no reason to stay here.

"Thanks for the agrocite crates, Mandalore. I'll make good use of them and I hope this little demonstration from the Ragnarok gives you something to think about."

A faint smile spreads across my face as I make my way back to the command seat, ready to dock the ship at Bastion Port. Now, i'am in security.

 

[Kei Amadis]

Objective: Mines

Location: Eol Sha - UniCorp Surface Refinery. Flanking Rig Four

Tag:
Direct Allies: Laphisto | Aknoby
Direct Enemies: Arden Priest | Possibly: Liorra
Allies: (Indirect) Diarch Reign | Mentioned: Nyva Shei
Enemies: (Indirect) Persephone Halcyon | Aether Verd

This is Captain varn of the Ash Dogs. Blue forces tangled with Mandos. we are Pushing thirty-six west, thirty-six east we will box 'em tight. Put heavy guns on Rigs Two and Three, mark your targets, and I'll light the sky. Move fast don't give them room to breathe." Laphisto

"Copy. Numbers favor us. We'll try to preserve the refineries or their technology for extraction." Wildcards took the order and moved to rig two, coordinating with the Ash Dog's forces. Old hands, slow but definite, they made rig two, marking friend and foe on sensors as ordered, but not three before Arden spotted the trap.

Arden's squads seemed disciplined and organised in their withdrawal, showing good leadership. Mandalorian fire checked the flanking Bloodclaws, Kei halted by coordinated Mandalorian fire himself, which he barely repulsed or evaded with his saber. "Get me some fire on that retreat, keep them suppressed and slowed." Smoke and heat haze still making each shot difficult.

For a time Kei forgot the scale: just a dozen angry shooters on the ridge and Wookiees howling around him. Not a general with limitless numbers, just widows, widowers and orphans in scavenged armor, a handful of Dark Jedi, and Wildcards with nothing left to lose. Backed by one Mandalorian's forge ship, who wanted better for their own people, outcasts and rebels in one great galactic irony.

Overhead, LAHTs thundered around. More ordnance was dumped on the fireworm, they shielded themselves from the fires below, having to move further from the source, their visibility falling to near zero. The Mandalorians started to effectively break contact. Anger took Kei. Not again; he was so close. He drove through with heavy Djem So strokes, building momentum. A Force-push hammered the rear guard; two Mandalorians were upended and rag-dolled across slagged stone. Kei vaulted the churning ground, lower armor melting to the heat, eating a couple of glancing hits on his armor, and landing in a spray of stone and grit. The Dark Jedi's body and saber propelled forward, flashing into arcing hammer blows. Hacking, hacking, and hacking until the last man became a twisted memory, writhing beneath him in scorched and burning armor.

Breathing hard, he felt no calm in the quietening battlefield. "How many prisoners?" Palm to the burned plate on his shoulder, a mirror of the ruined man beneath him.

"Thirteen, sir." A Wildcard behind. Old, tired, but loyal in decades of service to Kashyyyk and Amadis, answered without lifting his eyes.

"How many dead?" Silence. Kei turned, his voice firm. "How many!?"

"Twenty-five." Twenty-five for thirteen and a few corpses. Maybe the Ash Dogs fared better.

He ripped off his helmet, and picked up the nearest Mandalorian by hand, hauling him off the floor. Fett patterned armor, crushing his throat until he was a gurgling heap on the floor. Not dead, but close enough that he'd be wheezing the rest of his life.

"Twelve. Let that thing go." He ripped off the man's helmet and passed it to the wookiees, putting his face close to the spluttering man. "Coming to Mandalore. Tell them the one's they slaughtered on Kashyyyk are coming home." The saber tip touched down, melting plates until the soldier gasped a choked agreement. Kei jabbed a bacta into his arm to keep the messenger alive, then force-flung him aside like scrap.

"Mandalore?" the old Wildcard asked surprised. Kei slid his own helmet back on and let the Mandalorian leave disgraced without his. Around them the Wookiees stripped trophies, stacking beskar in a grim pile.

"Time to get their attention," he looked eye-level at the Mandalorian's helmet and tossed it into the discarded pile forming.

Fin for Kei

OOC:

Spoiler

Fun thread thanks, allies and opponents both; it was a nice thread to get the muse going.

Gear:

Spoiler

Armor:

Triple Warden AFU
Bossy-Rbos1 Rebreather
Beskar Gauntlets and Wristblades: Haran's Grasp | Poison Charon Venom

Gear:

MK6 Prototype Regular Sized Bolter: Elara's Fire. (4th Field Test)
Hands: Lightsaber
Back: Jet Black Beskar Two-handed Doubleaxe: Haran's Executioner
Hips: MK2-Jackknife x1 | Revolving Door Magnum x1
Belt: Stuncuffs x3 | Harris Grace Personal Medkit | 6/6 Grenades Mixed

 

[Mika Tai En]

LIMINALITY

Objective: Chapel: Dark Knowledge
Location: Paecian Chapel, Eol Sha
Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Anyone in the chapel

​

The battle in the chapel seemed to be quite intense. Mika thought it had created the perfect distraction for her to make her way through the chaos in silence. Gather up some things for her Queen and exit without anyone knowing she was even there. Her old masters would have been quite upset with her for even thinking this was a plausible mission objective. Anything that was worth taking should be done so out in the open with chin held high and chest puffed out. If something stands in your way you should fight for the honor of taking the prize.

Mika's new self now found that idea blatantly stupid. Taking a valuable prize without even being noticed was very much preferable to an unnecessary fight. The young knight was not above a fight, and she knew that many of her missions will be her charging headlong into combat. She would be lying if she said she didn't wish a little bit to be in the middle of the scuffle taking place. But the amount of destruction taking place made her decision to move quickly and precisely even more intelligent.

She felt like she was almost there, when she felt an obstacle enter the chapel. Like Mika, this one was taking a different route to completing their mission. Mika wasn't sure what that mission was, but the Force was saying that it was contrary to her own. That was cemented when Mika heard the voice muffled through a helmet demanding she identify herself.

Mika turned to face the voice. A Mandalorian, but not the average warrior. Mika could feel that much. Whether that was better or just different was still to be seen. Now being detected the violet lighting of her bodysuit brightened and changed the hue of the walls around her. "Mika Tai En, knight of the Dark Queen. You are more likely to find me filed in the data records of the Imperial Confederation if you wish a quick history. But that girl is long gone." Her tone was steady, but sounded slightly amused. As she spoke Kurokage seemed to appear in her hand. Her thumb rested on the activation button, but Mika did not make an offensive move just yet. "And who might you be? Here to stop me from absconding with Paecian relics I suspect. I was hoping not to have to fight on these grounds…but don't think my use of the shadows makes me any less fierce."

Spoiler: Loadout

• Armor
  • Pulsiva Mk.II Bodysuit
• Weapons
  • Kurokage – Primary standard lightsaber – Violet blade
  • Yorukage – Unfinished shoto lightsaber – Red Wine blade

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Objective: Chapel

Gear: 785MK Firepuncher-X sniper rifle | Ori Sidaki “The Big Ripper” | WESTAR-34 blaster pistol | Beskad | Euk Siha service knife | Lightsaber

Tags: Mika Tai En || Warpriest Prime | Lord Mettallum | Rowena-022 | Vytal Noctura



Adelle's eyebrows raised fractionally behind her helmet at the mention of a 'Dark Queen.' The titles of Sith and Dark Siders seemed to be getting less and less imaginative these days. Might as well just call themselves 'Evil Rulers' at this rate and be done with it. She flexed her grip on the beskad as the other woman gave a brief... history of herself? Adelle didn't care who she had been, she only needed to know whose side she was on. The other woman gave a warning, a lightsaber hilt in her hand but dormant.

The question of Adelle's identity went blatantly ignored.

"Then beg," Adelle said, approaching slowly, "for her forgiveness when you grovel at her feet empty-handed."

When the distance closed, Adelle made a probing swing at the woman from her left shoulder to her right hip. She didn't put any real power behind it as it was meant to probe her defenses, a test to see how this fight would go. But one thing was for sure. The relics were staying with the Mandalorians today: Adelle knew they had close ties with the Nightsisters and she didn't want any trouble with them.

 

[Warpriest Prime]

I HEAR THIS VOICE KEEP ASKING ME
IS THIS MY BLOOD OR IS IT BLASPHEMY​

O B J E C T I V E | Chapel
L O C A T I O N | Paecian Chapel
W A R G E A R | Glyphscript Anvil | Starfang | Warhawk | Gjallerhorn | Warpriest Beskar'gam

Aether Verd | Renn Vizsla | Adelle Bastiel | Veyla Krinn | Siv Kryze | Edward Ashcard | Arden Priest

Lord Mettallum | Rowena-022 | Darth Keres​

The chapel should have been a cathedral of carnage by now, a perfect stage for divine spectacle, for blades singing hymns against armor, for some towering zealot or noble paladin to stride forth and challenge her in the name of their feeble god.

Instead?

Dima found herself crossing weapons with the galaxy's most underwhelming mechanical scrapbox.

Their first clash should have rung like prophecy: sparks, screams, the holy quake of two titans meeting steel-to-steel. Instead the massive droid merely skidded back two steps, processed the encounter, and began speaking, speaking, with all the emotional range of a malfunctioning air fresher.

"Oh for Kad's sake-" she hissed, her fifth eye twitching.

But before she could finish her complaint, the sniper who had initially blasted her made dima wonder where she had gone.
Her fifth eye flared, runes spiraling around its iris as power built like a star about to split. Someone tried to snipe her. HER.

Not duel her.
Not challenge her.
Not give her spectacle.

Shoot. Her. In. The. Back.

It was enough to make her claws itch. Enough to make her lip curl. Enough to make her tail spike hard against the marble at her feet.

And over all that tension, all that divine fury, came that voice.

Lounging.
Bored.
Sithy in the most irritatingly smug way possible.

"Please," the woman Darth Keres drawled, "carry on. I've never seen two minds try so hard to meet...and still miss entirely."

Dima's head turned at a glacial pace, one long, silent you-did-NOT-just-say-that stare.

Her molten eye dimmed.
Her annoyance sharpened.

The droid chose that exact second to explode into a carnival ride, torso spinning, blaster firing, glaive swinging in twelve directions at once like some robotic toddler on a sugar high.

Dima just blinked at him.

"...what. Is. He. Doing."

She stepped lazily backward, the blade skimming her chestplate as she moved, not dodging, just walking away like someone politely leaving a conversation they could no longer emotionally survive.

Then she vanished behind a pillar to let the nonsense burn itself out, planting her sword in the ground with a long, suffering groan.

Gods above.
Gods below.

Where was the drama?

She toggled her comms with the tone of someone calling customer support.

"Is it just me, or is anyone else feeling absolutely unmotivated right now? They promised warriors. I got...whatever this is." She curled a claw through her hair, pouting as blaster bolts peppered the pillar behind her. "I swear if someone doesn't pull out a real blade soon, I'm collapsing this entire chapel just for the noise."

The Sith kept lounging.
The droid kept spinning.
The sniper, wherever she went probably kept missing. Or landing everything, she was unsure which was more annoying to her.

Dima sucked her teeth sharply.

"…Hold that thought, boys."

The Azure Blackstone roared awake.
Her mask's runes ignited.
Her fifth eye snapped open like the birth of a dying star.

FWOOM.

A beam of ionized plasma tore across the chapel, and the entire space where the Sith woman had been.

A second blast carved its way through wannabe foes, through walls, through marble, through everything. Azurine flame blossomed like divine wildfire.

Her fifth eye crackled, smoked, then slowly shut itself in exhausted protest. Cool-down: engaged.

Dima calmly walked back behind the pillar, tugging her mask off with one hand and reaching into her cloak with the other.

She retrieved her cigar.
Breathed fire to light it.
Inhaled deeply.

The comms were still open. They had absolutely heard everything.

"So, what was I sayin'?" she asked, brows furrowing until she snapped her claws. "Right, right. Anyone out there seeing enemies with actual swords that can duel? I've got gunnerboys down here and frankly I'm bored enough to start narrating my own fight."

A glance back.
Charred ruin where the Sith had been.
She nodded, satisfied.

"Got a spinning droid blasting randomly, snipers taking pot shots. And some RANDOM lady showed up talkin crazy but had no blade out~" Dima muttered, smoke curling from her nostrils. "And she wasn't WRONG, but I ain't tryna hear NONE of that shit."

Another long drag.

Puff, puff, perfectly circular smoke rings rising through the chaos as blaster shots continued to ricochet pointlessly around the room.

"Ey, Siv? Where's Aether? Bet he's getting a real duel, huh? Better be footage. Better. Be."

She flicked ash onto the floor, lounging casually against the pillar like she wasn't in the middle of a firefight at all, just vibing, smoking, and waiting for someone worthy of her time.

"Because if this droid spins one more damn time," she said sweetly, "I swear to the Destroyer God Himself, I'm turning this chapel into a crater just so I can go home. Whatever is beneath it can't be that valuable, look who showed up to get it."

And with that, she blew another perfect ring of smoke into the air, unbothered, unimpressed, and ready to kill for the sake of her gods entertainment.

 

[Siv Kryze]

.​

O B J E C T I V E: CHAPEL​

​

​

The blast from Warpriest Prime 's eye-cannon shook half the nave. Dust rained from the ceiling. A column cracked. Half the droids on the southern tier lost power outright.

Siv stepped through the haze with the patience of someone who'd seen too many wars to be impressed by theatrics. He kicked aside the half-melted torso of a Phalanx droid, set his spear upright, and let the comm click back open.

Dima's voice was still going.
Smoke rings and all.

He exhaled once through his teeth.

"You done?"

Another explosion.
Another droid spiraling across the room like thrown scrap.

"No. Course not."

He vaulted the shattered railing, closing distance toward the central aisle where the machine-zealot was still spinning like a malfunctioning carnival turret. Mettallum sprayed fire in every direction except a useful one. Through the chaos, Domina's power spread like a storm front, and the witches… well, he wasn't about to guess their priorities.

He angled his spear toward the spinning droid, watching for an opening, letting Dima's rant play out behind him. When she finally mentioned his name, the corner of his mouth pulled tight.

He answered dryly.

" Aether Verd 's not here. If he were, you'd hear him screaming 'for glory' before the roof came down."

He took two steps forward, ducked a wild bolt, planted his boot against the marble, and hurled the Spear of Longinus.
The beskar point punched through Mettallum's shoulder joint with a sharp crack. His rotation seized for half a second — just long enough for Domina or anyone else to do something useful with him.

Siv didn't wait to check.
He drew Laar Uur, slipped behind broken pews, and keyed Dima's channel directly.

"If you're bored, shift left. West corridor just opened during your melt-down. Bunch of zealot-types rushing in with melee weapons. Real blades. Real screaming. Should fit your… preferences."

A bolt pinged off his helmet. He fired twice without looking, the second shot dropping the attacker clean.

"And leave the chapel standing," he added, voice flat but pointed. "We're here to take it, not crater it because you didn't get a dramatic entrance."

He rose, scooped his spear from where Mettallum's frame had buckled, and braced for the next wave of hostiles flooding through the breach.

"Move when ready. I'll keep the path open."

Then, as another plume of blue fire erupted somewhere behind him, Siv muttered—low enough that it shouldn't have transmitted… but very much did:

"Kad help me, this is the most ridiculous assault I've ever been part of."

He cut comms.
And waded back into the fight.

Tag: Renn Vizsla Adelle Bastiel Drystan Creed Tohu Veyla Krinn Edward Ashcard Arden Priest Lord Mettallum Warpriest Prime Rowena-022

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla hit the ground in a low crouch, the ash hissing around her armor as the Dire Wolf's cloak shimmered once more and vanished overhead. The chapel loomed before her—cracked, screaming with energy, bleeding azure light from wounds Domina had carved into its bones.

The Force—or whatever ancient thing lived beneath the stone—thrummed up through her boots, a pulse that set her teeth on edge.

She tightened her grip on her rifle, eyes narrowing as the first shockwave rippled outward. The air distorted, green flame, blue fire, and machine-light warping across the entrance like three different gods arguing.

Then the building shook.

Dima's beam tore a hole through stone and sanity at the same time. A plume of sapphire energy blew out the far wall. Veyla braced against a toppled pillar as the shock hit her, dust rolling like a stormfront.

"…that woman is going to bring the ceiling down before anyone else gets the chance," she muttered under her breath.

She moved.

Fast, quiet, slipping through smoke and shifting light until she reached the outer nave. The scene was violence layered on chaos:

— A spinning droid firing in every direction like a drunk turret
— A witch flickering through flame, snapping lightning through the air
— A sniper repositioning with mechanical precision
— Domina Prime lounging behind a pillar, smoking, as though this were entertainment

Her visor flickered. Heat signatures everywhere. Too many moving pieces. Too much noise.

And then Siv's voice cut through the comms with the steady clarity she'd been waiting for.

West corridor. Real blades. Move.

She didn't hesitate.

"On my way," she breathed, already angling through the broken alcoves.

A blaster bolt cracked past her helmet. Another streaked in from the flank. She pivoted, dropped into a roll, and returned fire—three precise shots, two droids collapsing in seconds.

She slid behind a fractured column, assessing the path Siv had opened. The stone there had split cleanly—Domina's doing—revealing a corridor crawling with zealots brandishing steel and chanting something unintelligible.

"Finally," she murmured, voice edged with a dry satisfaction. "Something that bleeds."

Her boots dug into broken stone; she surged forward, rifle raised.

Before she disappeared into the fray, she toggled Siv's private channel.

"Keep talking, Kryze. I can follow your voice through anything."

Then she was gone—slipping into the west corridor, into blades and heat and the clarity she craved.

Siv Kryze Warpriest Prime Renn Vizsla Lord Mettallum Edward Ashcard Rowena-022 Adelle Bastiel Arden Priest Sorry if I missed anybody