Invasion System Shock: Fear Control | TSC Invasion of GE-held Coruscant Superhex Objective Two

[Arris Windrun]

TSC: Acier Moonbound Arixa Pazela Xan Atropus Vestra Tane Hasuras Na-Gerra Lysander von Ascania Varin Mortifer Ansisa Darth Amaymon | OPEN
GE: Redmond Jordi Massad St. Thomas Barran Tamna Korvan Kesh Hevro Jas Katis | OPEN

​

More than military might or economic oppression, the Empire maintains the stability of its territories through fear and uncertainty. Anyone you know could be an ISB informant - your favorite grocer, the old man you play dejarik with in the park, your own nephew. And you'll never know who; just that someone is.

It is through this invisible web that the Empire keeps its subjects placid, docile, and loyal.

So the Covenant is going to break it.

The vast majority of the Covenant’s forces move into their assault on ISB Headquarters upon landing, turning the locale into a tumultuous battlefield spearheaded by battle-hardened acolytes who have already tasted victory on Chandrila, and the Sith Lords supporting them, with Triumvir Vestra Tane in command.

Summary: Vestra Tane leads a Sith strike force in an assault on ISB Headquarters, intent on causing irreparable damage to the Empire's mechanisms of control. Imperials - defend your iron grip on the Core. Sith - act with an eye towards maximum destabilization.

​

 

[Xan Atropus]

X A N . A T R O P U S

| Location | The Twilight Gladius en route to Coruscant, ISB Headquarters​

| Objective | Fires of Liberation​

A crimson blade sputtered next to the neck of an imperial officer aboard the prison ship The Twilight Gladius, a vessel that had been commandeered by the renegade Sith and overtaken by the very prisoners it held on its way back to Coruscant. Xan Atropus' gaze from behind the mask that his face, was fixated on the planet as it filled the bridge's view. Half the crew that remained were either slain or held under the watchful eye of its prisoners, a quaint reversal of roles, with just enough crew left alive to operate the vessel.​

​

A console beeped as a transmission came through, "This is Overlord to inbound imperial vessel. Identify and state your purpose." The pilot gulped as he turned his head slightly to the side, the corner of his eye barely catching a glimpse of the renegade Sith in his vision. The blade hovered ever so slightly closer to the pilot's neck as they turned back to their console and spoke, sweat rolling down their brow, "This is Twilight Gladius to Overlord , en route to ISB HQ to drop off prisoners. Sending codes and requesting permission to land," ​

​

A pause over the comms as the security codes were transmitted, "You were expected to arrive at 0800. You're late..." A nervous clearing of the throat followed by a quick response, "We had some technical issues with the engine that delayed our arrival." Another lengthy pause followed before the operator on the other end finally answered, "Overlord to Twilight Gladius, you are cleared to land at hangar bay 4. Maintain your trajectory and proceed as instructed. Overlord out." The line was terminated as the prison ship continued to make for the ISB headquarters. ​

​

A liberated prisoner wielding an E-11 stepped up to Atropus and spoke, "What do we do with the rest of the crew once we land?" Xan remained still with the blade continuing to be held at the pilot's throat, his vocoded voice speaking without a hint of empathy, "Kill them all once we land." The prisoner cocked his head as he scratched at his neck, "And then we're free to go?" ​

​

"What you do with your freedom is of no concern to me. Take it and run if you wish, or if you desire to get back at those who sought to enslave and break you, then join me... Together we can make an Empire bleed."​

​

[ Open ]

​

 

[Vestra Tane]

LOCATION: CORUSCANT, APPROACHING ISB HEADQUARTERS
ALLIES (IMMEDIATE): Acier Moonbound
ALLIES (GENERAL): Arixa Pazela | Xan Atropus | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Lysander von Ascania | Varin Mortifer | Ansisa | Darth Amaymon
OPPOSITION (GENERAL): Redmond | Jordi Massad | Jas Katis | Kesh Hevro | St. Thomas Barran
OPPOSITION (DUELING): Tamna Korvan
EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber | Lightfoil | Light Blaster Pistol | Armorweave Coat | Rebreather | Hex Grip

​

The storm crackled around her. It always did, when her passions couldn't be contained. Lightning arced across her body, jumping across the various bits of metal stuck to her and leaving score-marks in gear and flesh alike. She had consigned herself to meditation, in the Sith fashion, for days ahead of the invasion. She had stewed in her own bloodlust until it nearly drove her to madness and now, finally, she was allowing herself to indulge. ISB headquarters was a mere few hundred meters away, now, and already she could see the opposition mounting.

The Eradicators accompanying her knew to keep a wide berth as they trudged through the streets of Coruscant. She was never likely to lash out at one of them - that was a waste of a good Sith - but it had been known to happen, in those moments between the peak of her bloodlust and release.

In turn, she paid the Eradicators little mind. Back at the Academy, these were her students, and she knew most of them by name. But here on the battlefield, massed and prone to feeding off of one anothers' hysteria, they constituted a very big hammer to be swung at the nearest fortification with maximum prejudice.

No, for precision, she had...

"Hey. Moonbound."

The Sith grinned when she looked over at the ex-Jedi. Her eyes, bright like sulfur, twinkled with something that might've been malice. Her whole body twitched with anticipation.

"You ready to split some skulls?"

​

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Krasskorr the Maw Redmond Jas Katis Kesh Hevro Da'Razel Arixa Pazela
Arris Windrun Vexorion Acier Moonbound Mercy Xan Atropus

BENEATH THE CITY
{WARPOSTING/ISB COUNTER-INSURGENCY)
I

B L O O D H O U N D

G H O U L | K A R S E R E S | B R E A K E R

​

KARSERES MOB TERRITORY, SUB-DISTRICT 6,
IMPERIAL CENTER UNDERCITY, CORUSCANT (904 ABY)

'Nyaaaahahahahahaha! I know that look! Spill the beans, Bloodhound. Spill 'em for all to hear!'
'Well, Frost has intel that OPFOR are gunning for ISB Headquarters after all..'
'Did you hear that, brothers?! THE GATES ABOVE WILL SLUMBER ONCE MORE!!!!!'
​

Gathered as one with the roaring, braying Karseres Mob, the Mawsworn would bear witness as the entire sub-level seemed to shake around them, quite the culture shock for surface-dwelling Nomads, but they appreciated this show of fervour all the same. The investments made on the undercity by the Church of the Darkside, meagre though they seemed to people of the surface, were everything to the lower-levellers, benefitting from basic improvements to health, hygiene and food-production alike. Even gaining access to the Holonet, with connections and basic terminals alike, and the difference could be felt almost immediately by the Khan himself.

Even despite it's persistent darkness beyond the walkways, there was power in more segments of the lower-levels than ever before, creating a small level of backlit life around them; mildly illuminating the gathered horde from below, and judging by the weapons with which the lower-levellers had been equipped, it was made quickly obvious to the Mawites that there was more than mere welfare improvements that had been gifted from the Church. Thus with all this considered, the Mob's very own survivors of the Netherworld abominations would become a problem for enemy forces before long, especially those with aims of attacking ISB headquarters.

Situated almost a hundred metres above their deployment zone.

​

'When those tunnel-gates open, we ascend in silence, we advance in silence.... Am I making myself clear?'
'Of course, its the Cirihut way. I prefer the element of surprise, and you know I work magic when I'm sneaking.'
'Good man, Karseres. Its always promising to see your wit hasn't dulled.'
'Cirihuts never do. Never have, never will.'

​

'Just one question, Karseres.', the Sakiyan-born Bannerman interjected, caring little for the growing number of sideward glances, as it would make all the difference with the matter Breaker had in mind specifically. It was then that Zarral stood up to look Karseres in the eye, and perhaps a little too close for the undercity Don's newly-found comfort, but Breaker would pay this no mind as he inquired,'If we have full-commitment to springing out from here, have any numbers been devoted to the Imperial Palace? And if so, is it near as many as we have here?', speaking into the former Cirihut's ear as if to whisper, though loudly enough for all to hear.

'Well, yes.... But I must admit, not a single one of them are affiliated with me. They only promise to spring forth on my arrival, and we have time yet to reach them, marking them of little consequence until we need them. But please, be warned, I wouldn't trust them to obey as I would trust mine.'

​

For the first time since his year incarcerated with the Khan, and for the very first recurrence since the Bloodhound himself made him wheeze uncontrollably, Breaker would laugh again; it did not take much to understand why such an unsavoury task was being left to the Don's undercity rivals, and much less effort to discern why the Khan seemed not to mind, all but confirmed when the Sakiyan saw his Woad-born leader smiling with excited anticipation. The others were initially unsure on how to take the laughter, but when Zarral finally guessed,'Well, you must hate that lot. Whatever they did, it must've been quite bad to warrant the curse of fodder. Am I right, or...?', the others soon laughed along with him, gladdened to see that the Sakiyan warrior had finally gotten the memo.

'Lads! I think its happening!'

[Kssssss]
[BEEP]
[CLUNK]
​

'BROTHERS!!!! STAND PROUD, FOR YOU WILL LEARN WHAT IT MEANS TO LIVE FOREVER!!!!'

​

With raucous approval, the Karseren/Mawite contingent roared once again, but this time, all the noise would soon be hushed among them, setting (and in audible earnest) into early immersions for the fight above. Not only for the element of surprise, but also to organise within their respective insurgency cliques, to check their weapons and equipment, and last of all, to listen instinctively for hostile activity above. This is when the Bloodhound turned to Redmond , quietly muttering,'Stick wi' our Command Clique, Trooper. An' if ye make it out alive, you'll know your Nomadic name afore the sun rises the-moraw.', lightly slapping his shoulder-pauldron with a tactile requirement for readiness.

Seen in the way he repeated the pauldron-cuff on his closest-ranked subordinates, clashing lower-palm against layered alloy-sheeting as every higher-tier commander approached; and when all five members of the Bloodhound's command-squad finally gathered as one, they eventually saw that their contingent were quietly advancing together, shifting, dragging their feet at an incline toward the surface. It was quite the experence to see it from their perspectives, and doubly so when they eventually joined the advancing, wordless fighting masses, and when the warriors who noticed them raised their weapons above their heads in silence, it was clear that instinct had well-and-truly taken hold by then.

'Any quiet instructions, before we reach the surface?'
'Well.... Some of our enemies will need to be dragged below, but we'll get to that.'
'I know what he's on about, Karseres. Its useful, perhaps even pertinent to the grand scheme of things.'
'Fair enough, Brothers.... War, Death, Rebirth.'

TAGS
Galen Tagge
Hasuras Na-Gerra
(OOC Note - all my fleeting material will be split into different posts for Obj3 after this)
ABOVE THE GLOBE
(FLEETING)
I

D U S T B O R N

G L A R E

ABOARD THE MV: HEART OF MAR'ZAMBUL, CIRCLING IN LUNAR ORBIT,
CORUSCANT, GALACTIC DEEP CORE (904 ABY)

'I know what you had in mind, Farnum.... You know, what you talked out with Dreamer?'
'Yeah, what about it?'
'Are we actually going for it?'
'Damn right, we are! We're nomads, for feth's sake. You know what we say on such things.'​

The method they had in mind was wild, but in consideration of their perpetual demand for all-things punchy mobility, it was needed for the sheer audacity to take it the rest of the way, but the array they had brought for the task was much wilder in contrast. Partly the reason why the Zabrak Bannerman was near-maddened with a potent blend of bemused amazement, as he had never once imagined that the Khan would be willing to devote such an abundance of resources to the fight for the planet's orbit, but despite the confusion and doubt that the Bloodhound was backing Dustborn's gambit, the inclusion of three Crucifix II's (not including the deployment of the one that remained from their previous fight for Coruscant) would leave no doubts as to how bold the Maw would be that day.

'Lemme guess,"Never trust a nomad to stand still, for static positioning is death for Bhagatur.", that the one?'
'Thats the very one, Lurdsi. The very one.'
'Mad enough to work, mad enough to prevail.... Feth it, lets do it.'

But it was not until Glare looked upon the ship's cargo and embarkation manifests that he realised what they were advancing with, sensing that the Bloodhound was making plans for contingencies that he could not see as of yet, almost three steps ahead of the subordinates who brought him their plan in the first place. Yet for all the confusion, it seemed as though they were being afforded Drudges to replace crewmen, and warbeasts to replace the warrior elements, and with Droids already reinforcing the entrance to the bridge at the time, it seemed as though the warbeasts were expected to cause mayhem of far-reaching extreme.

'Attaboy, Glare! Just sit back, kick your feet up, and enjoy a game of set-pieces.', the Nomad-born Human replied eventually, as he was taking a brief few seconds to appreciate the moment his peer finally got the memo, that one instance that assured his backing of the Khan's big gambit. A momentous occasion for the fact the Zabrak had always been somewhat skeptical of Khanate strategy, always finding it too elastic for his personal taste of tactical approach, but Dustborn would only further-strengthen that sudden shift by mentioning,'We're not playing by anyone's conventions, Lurdsi. Not here, and certainly not today.'. fully putting his fate in the hands of the Khanate, and the Three Avatars to whom they still prayed.

'We got access to the locks on those cages?'
'Oh, those.... If I revealed that all the enclosure locks were rigged to just one switch, what would you say?'
'Oh.... Oh, I see now.... Holy-'
'Yup, and now you see why the droids have been welding all this time.'

​

As both Marauders chortled away nervously at their own predicament, their attentions would immediately divert toward matters of lesser-foreboding extreme, looking away from the only barrier between them and monsters who would devour the only edible lifeforms on the ship at the time, and all to take on a monumentally-risky endeavour instead. Content by then to send Datapad instructions to the Mawsworn Flotilla, it would not be long before they could think of nothing else, and when the Drudges brought the fleet out in front of the flagship, the only full-sentients of their ilk would treat this as their signal to cut the chit-chat once and for all.

​

 

[Jordi Massad]

TAGS
Alaric de Braose Reiner Ghadi Doctor Afic Otker DT-9197 Lee Redmond

SYSTEM SHOCK
(COUNTER-INSURGENCY)
I

S C I M I T A R

F R O S T

​

ISB Headquarters, Imperial Center,
Coruscant, Galactic Deep Core (904 ABY)

'Charges primed?'
'Yup, check your detonator.'
'Huh? Oh.... Do I - uh - spam the button?'
'Ha! No point, you only get four shockwaves this time.'
​

Placing his detonator-switch to one side, the old Kandaran would then take a moment to slide his reaction-lenses further in on the bridge of his nose, a good thing for the light-covered backdrop onto which he was gazing at the time. It was a surreal feeling, living long enough to gaze onto a foyer he had never once seen in his life before his capture, but was still made synonymous to his name, and under the same, ubiquitous umbrella at that. The young upstart was particularly receptive to Scimitar, looking up to a man he was ordered to employ the strictness that Massad was supposedly due, already on the same page by the time Jordi put his idea forth, and also (like he was, overall, with Scimitar) quite receptive to the reasoning behind it.

To be struck so close to the Empire's exposed underbelly was expected, but for it to happen so soon, and with Jordi still smarting from his forced affiliation at the time, it all enraged the old Kandaran from the farthest depths of his soul. It was an anger of which Massad knew he had not felt for almost twenty years, and despite his success in hiding Kandara from the Galaxy, (and despite the many Swarm raiders he slaughtered to achieve it) remembering that fateful day seemed to sour the mood all the more; further amplified as he considered the same strategy for the most-recent of circumstances, but unlike the realm in Ravelin, it seemed that the realm in Imperial Center stood a better chance of surviving their adversaries.

But the likelihood of enacting his second,"TARKIN HAS FALLEN", protocol in one lifetime, as much as he despised the thought, still clung to his breath like cigarra smoke.

'So, what do we do if our identities end up compromised in the end?'
'Back to school, every last one of you.... But, truth be told, your superiors aren't ready for that truth yet.'

​

Looking then to the strike-team leaning on the railing with them, set on both sides of the conversing spies at the time, Scimitar cracked a smile as he observed,'Even before you begin, your subordinates, here, will have the advantage. Not a single hour playing my little Game of Faces, no training with disguises whatsoever, and they'll have the edge over you if we fail.', to which, nearly every armoured operator chortled to drive the knife ever deeper into their nearest-ranked superior. Only then did Scimitar turn back to Frost with an air of sincerity, though altogether more serious than he was before even stepping out to his office's balcony, and when he growled,'So let us - not fail here today, my young acquaintance.... I've never enjoyed teaching.', the young aide would understand as to why.

'Alright, saying as we're all on the same page now, lets move.... Prepare my EW-Barrier.'
'Its on, Sir.'
'Good, then I'll go authenticate at the elevator.'

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

If you had not sinned so greatly,
Vahl would not have set a scourge like me upon you.

​

"I declare a Kaggath, Emperor. Show me what you are made of... or do you only fight ghosts and Jedi past their prime?"

"I accept.”

“The dogs yap while their master has fled. . .

I will nail your bodies to my ships facing the fore, so you can watch your empire burn.”​

ATTN: St. Thomas Barran

A message ripples out across Coruscant, broadcasting a single voice, deep as the roots of a mountain.

“Solipsian cur, did I not make you a promise?
Your captured warriors will now bear witness to its fulfillment.”​

BEHOLD.

Look. Watch. Stare in awe as the blackness of space around Coruscant shimmers and flashes and heralds the arrival of the armada assembled beneath the Covenant’s banner.

They are as a swarm of locusts upon the grass, thick and vast, and they will consume all that they touch.

There fly the famed Hapan Battle Dragons, flanked by Nova-class cruisers with Miy’til fighters spilling from their hangars by the dozen and the dragons on the flanks laying out gravity mines to deter any ambush from a relief force. There too sail the Sabaoth destroyers of the Vahlans and a whole host of Blazing Chain pirates from armed freighters to Nagai Spider ships.

And at their head, gleaming with a new hull of golden impervium, is the Slayer of Sovereigns. A spire juts from just behind the star destroyer’s bridge and it is dotted with dozens upon dozens of Vagaari living shield blisters, thin bubbles of plastic within which the figures of captured prisoners slowly starve away. Mawite prisoners, captured at Chandrila.. A promise fulfilled

Laughter booms out across the communications line as the voice of Hasuras na-Gerra goes on, rumbling.

“Your master fell upon us at the Conclave in arrogance, not backed by strength. Now, we finish what he began.

Flee. As he fled before Mercy’s kaggath. As you fled at Chandrila.

Or be broken as we broke him at Atrisia.

We will annihilate the last remnants of your weakness from the face of this planet and prise its riches from your dead fingers.” ​

Aboard one of the Sabaoth-class destroyers called Scorn, Gerra turned to the cadre of officers about him. Varin Mortifer . Ansisa . Lysander von Ascania . His lips peeled apart in a grin that showed the lust of battle had already taken hold of him.

“Good hunting.”

The destroyer churned toward the planet, hull flickering as its Stygian cloaking activated a second later. The ship moved closer and closer to the planet, its destination… the air above the ISB facility.

 

[Redmond]

Post 1
Foederatti Advance
Beneath the Sunlight
Tags: St. Thomas Barran Krasskorr the Maw Hasuras Na-Gerra Jas Katis Kesh Hevro Da'Razel Arixa Pazela Arris Windrun Vexorion Acier Moonbound Mercy Xan Atropus

Norman felt a fire boil in his gut as the call to assemble awoke his contigent, the Khan himself requesting Norman and his ammo carrier, the pair quickly abliged. No time for anything but equipment gathering and stim taking to shake off the lingering grog from the previous evening. As they ran to meet their gathering host and leader the planet buzzed with activity as the entirety of the gathered Imperial Military on the planet rapidly responded to an incoming fleet. AA guns and emplacements were being rapidly set up near the ISB HQ and other high priority targets by teams of engineers, @Vauban Redmond among them.

The light of the planet's star dimmed into pure neon and electric light as the mg team ran past citizens and soldiers, all scattering to various duties or hidey holes at the approach of the invaders. Norman laughed as his lungs burned, the DLT-34 weight shared between them as they sprinted. They made it just in time to continue moving, the Khan bidding them to his host. "Aye, Khan. We'll bleed em for this one." He responded to the commander who'd resurrected him from the cryopods. An invasion of Coruscant was something that filled Norman with hatred. He loved the world and what it represented of human acheivement on a Galactic scale. The beating heart of the Galaxy, financially, culturally, for millenia. It'd been where he'd made his life with his family nine hundred years ago. Essentially the homeland of the Redmond Clan, not that blasted frozen rock he'd been born on. On Coruscant his kin had thrived as opposed to merely surviving.

Trent would be damned eternally if he let them take the world without draining his body of it's soul, this is he was sure of. As the team moves with the Khan, Norman gave silent prayers to the rest of his family on world, all active duty military, some of which might not make it through the day. He'd see any that didn't on the other side.
The old man popped another stim and turned his mind to the task at hand. The enemy that he met today would certainly regret having encountered such a vitrial filled agent of death as Norman.

 

[Lee Redmond]

Post 1
ISB Headquarters, out front
3rd Fleet Stormtrooper and Naval Infantry Detachment
Alaric de Braose Reiner Ghadi Doctor Afic Otker DT-9197 Jordi Massad

Lee found himself setting up emplacements with @Vauban Redmond 's engineer company as the rest of his comrades joined in or began to set up in some of the already set positions with DLT-34s. A section of mortars was set up behind the top of the forming defensive lines, designed along the ascending sections of stairs that led to the entranceway. Walls and bunkers, some pre set but hidden beneath decorative shells lined the area, staggered and providing different lanes of fire for the imposing Imperial force gathering for the defense of the district.

Behind them, where minutes before they'd been lottering by their docked fleet, the contingent raised into the air as klakens screeched through the air. The sight was impressive, and Lee gave a silent prayer to Lucius Redmond and Nigel Redmond , who'd definitely be engaging them in the air. Lee and the medics present designated a few casualty collection points and spread themselves out among the growing mass of defenses to best provide support. Above, emplacements were being set on any open set off roof to provide as much fire as possible against the incoming onslaught.

The enemy would not find the capital undefended.

Lee focused on controlling his breathing, simply surviving the insanity of the past few weeks was the most he could muster, and an invasion of Coruscant definitely wasn't on his calender. This engagement would be by far the worst he'd been in thus far, by numbers alone. It would be a slog. Millions might die.

Lee steeled himself. He'd provide the support any wounded near him needed. Regardless of the circumstances.

 

[Vabaun Redmond]

Post 1
ISB Headquarters, out Front
Engineers

Alaric de Braose Reiner Ghadi Doctor Afic Otker DT-9197 Jordi Massad

Vaubaun looked over the defenses set up by his stormtrooper contigent and a group of civilian volunteers with a small smile behind his marked helmet. The combination of pre placed static emplacements, standard for such a site, and the entire use of the 3rd Fleet's strategic emplacements reserve had created a nice bulwork with a speed that showed the profiency of the engineers. Interlocking lanes of fire, a scattering of mines, AA, AT, and every other acronym that aided the stormtroopers in their mission. A damningly simple one. Hold.

The fleet deployed on his right side, climbing to meet the threat in the air.

"Godspeed." He murmured, taking a few second look before turning back to the task at hand. The infantry companies had begun arming civilians that wished to help in the city defense efforts from nearby blaster shops and Imperial Armories. The enemy would find the entire planet rising to meet their challenge, for in spite of the sometimes brutal nature of the regime they did genuinely care for the people, more or less depending on who you asked. Social welfare of the sort provided by the Empire tended to be nonexistant under purely Sith run organizations, without any other checks and balances keeping their darker tendencies at bay.

For all their faults, they tended to maintain some form of humanity. Holding today would be the most important thing any of them had done. Their largest service to the Empire. The air was electric with the weight of the encroaching battle as the defenders put the finishing touches on their mg nests and other counter measures. Gunners and mortarmen began setting ranges on their instruments as the engineers themselves began to take positions. Above the first contact of some of the faster flyers created a brilliant lightshow as beings flickering in and out of existence with the pagentry of a firework display. A collection of grunts, sighs, gasps, and woos could be heard about the collected Imperials. A tiny preview of the day to come playing out in the reaches of the atmosphere.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Armor | Helm | Sword​

Allies: Hasuras Na-Gerra Ansisa Varin Mortifer Acier Moonbound Xan Atropus Arixa Pazela Darth Amaymon
Foe: St. Thomas Barran Redmond Kesh Hevro Jas Katis Jordi Massad Tamna Korvan

Open!

"Allow me to carve my place in its ashes."

From the moment he awoke until now, these words echoed incessantly within the darker recesses of his mind.

Lysander’s gaze was fixed upon the fleet as it locked into its positions; of course, he had waited for this for what felt like an eternity, and now, finally.. he had been granted permission. No doubt, Mercy 's unfinished business gave the war a spine.. but his own hunger for vengeance had been present long before.

Upon this world below were things that had yet to answer, those he never allowed himself to forget, no matter the attempts to bury them deep. Some were deeply personal, despite those repeated denials in recent weeks, a passion that scorched his soul.

How interesting it was to think, his sister Corazona von Ascania remained a Jedi when the world was taken from her, and now a Sith brother would answer in her name.

For every inhale that sank deep, every exhale would stretch further, paired with a steady heartbeat and a mind of calm, untouched by those wild embers of excitement that could so easily drain strength; this was simply the state of readiness, before the storm. It was easy, considering rules never changed with the Covenant.

Ebony plating entombed his lithe frame.. black upon black. A helm lay cradled beneath his arm, while a sword tugged at his side.. a blade that hungered for flesh and blood.

Golden irises smoldered.

The space around him was not empty, occupied by familiar presences, Varin and Ansisa.

A soft hum slipped from his lips, a melody without words. A song destined to end in fire. A funeral hymn for those waiting on Coruscant.

And there he continued to wait, for a drop pod that would serve as his chariot into battle, to a place where only death would follow.

 

[Lucius Redmond]

Post 1
3rd Fleet, Skies above ISB HQ

Alaric de Braose Reiner Ghadi Doctor Afic Otker DT-9197 Jordi Massad Lysander von Ascania

Lucius, along with three other SDs, and a collection of several corvettes and frigates launched into the air with a response time that was sure to surprise the enemy. When the men and women of his crew took leave, it was with the expectation they would be within ten-fifteen minutes of their posts, ready to run back within a couple minutes of a holo message. They'd preformed marvelously, a few out of uniform, but present, coherent, and ready to fight. That would be plenty. His Helmsman was one such case, evidently the Chiss had been swimming not twenty minutes before, still in shorts and flip flops. They deployed the moment each ships' master at arms had reported 100 percent headcount of the Naval Crew, with most of the ship's stormtrooper contingent deployed, and the Naval Infantry staying with their ships. He didn't need anything more than them for what was to come.

Each ship pulled into low atmo with a contingent of fighters and bombers pulling with them, prepared to meet the enemy in the air as they converged on their defenses. Lucius new his captains were doing what they should and didn't need micro managing beyond being told the larger plan, a level of competency that pleased him. The machine always seemed to function as it should.

They knew today would be a day of destiny. Something that would be told about in the annals of galactic history. The Empire would not cede this world to these upstarts. They would fight until every last one of them was dust, the arming of the population was underway. Organization of civilian militias and further calls for reinforcements from nearby sectors. Every true Imperial on the world planned to die with a blaster or sword in their hands before allowing the galactic jewel to be desecrated by these upstarts.

The fleets weapons powered up and awaited their enemy with a zealotry and excitement that would echo across eternity.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Coruscant

Equipment:
Acolyte Robes | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm | RazBohan high-encryption comlink | MicroThrust computer spike

ALLY: Gillem
OPPOSITION: Yuri Maji
TAGS: Vestra Tane | Lysander von Ascania | Xan Atropus | St. Thomas Barran | Jordi Massad | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Redmond | Lee Redmond | Vabaun Redmond | Lucius Redmond

The transport vibrated around them, a low, steady hum running through the deckplates as it cut through Coruscant airspace. Ace sat braced near the forward bulkhead, one boot planted against the deck, forearms resting loosely on his knees.

A faint pulse of light glowed along the seam of his left glove. Ace glanced down just long enough to bring his wrist closer, thumb brushing the comlink built into the fabric. Arris's voice crackled from the embedded comm.

"Remember," she said to him, "No interference from anyone. You do this, and I let you in on everything."

His fingers drifted to top of his utility belt, brushing the edge of it. She'd armed him with the slicing tools needed to peel open the ISB's security. He exhaled through his nose.

"I hear you." He said into the comm.

Mission was simple, retrieve the Empire's records. Personnel. Assignments. All of it. His thumb tapped the comm again, and the light went dark. Across from him, armor shifted, metal plates knockied softly together as the Eradicators checked weapons and seals. The mood was restless... predatory. Exemplified by none other than Vestra herself.

When she called out to him, his head lifted. Lightning crawled lazily over her form, jumping between bits of metal like it was impatient to be unleashed. She looked at him with bright, sulfurous eyes and a grin that promised ruin.

Ace rose to his feet in one smooth motion, meeting her gaze, he gave a single nod.

"Yeah. I'm ready." He confirmed. "This'll be easier than Tapani. No problem with killing Imps."

The transport banked slightly, the city outside slid into view through the forward viewport. Coruscant. He'd grown up hearing it spoken like a legend. The heart of the galaxy. Towers of light. Order made manifest.

From up here, it looked like a cleaner Nar Shaddaa. Like Denon, polished and sterilized. Like Bonadan if you scrubbed away the rot and pretended it wasn't still there. A city that believed its shine made it righteous.

Ace watched the endless sprawl pass beneath them, traffic lanes threading like veins through a body too large to feel its own wounds. Probably won't look so clean after today. The thought didn't thrill him, but it didn't sicken him either.

The transport's warning chime sounded; thirty seconds to deployment. Ace adjusted his glove, the wrist comm inactive for now, and shifted his stance as the strike team readied themselves. He looked past Vestra and toward the city they were about to carve into.

"Let's get this done." He said quietly.
​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

His eye itched. It was still healing from the operation, but he couldn’t scratch it. The helm was in the way just for that reason. It had been some time since he was in a battle of this scale. He was a lot less experienced back then. Compared to how he was now he would have seen himself as powerless. The red visor glared in the direction of the drop pod. Accompanied by two others. Lysander, whom he knew extremely well and a new face. Someone by the name Ansisa. The Varin did not know her; he knew a warrior when he saw one. She was certainly no exception.

Lysander let out a small hum which caused Varin to slightly turn his head towards him.

“When was the last time we fought together?”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Far too long.”

The itch in his eye burned slightly causing his eyelid to twitch, a slight grunt leaving his chest. Varin gripped the hilt of his sword. Somehow the notches seemed to match perfectly, the blade felt like home. It was hungry as was Varin. Towering over the other two he opted to stand behind them. His gaze fell on Gerra behind them. He had a way of stirring emotion with his battle speech. Varin may have been hungry for battle before, but now he was starving.

His armored body projected a heat around them all as his heart pounded for chaos and combat. The combat outside of the ship dulled in sound within it, but no less contributed to the drums of war within everyone's chest.

“Leave no quarter.”

He spoke to himself as his thumb ran over his bone rosary. Like clockwork he spoke a silent prayer to himself over each bead. The length now wrapped around his forearm and entwining in his fingers.

"Let them know the Solipsis is deaf to their screams as their rivers run red."

He was ready now.

Allies: Hasuras Na-Gerra | Lysander von Ascania | Ansisa | Darth Amaymon | Acier Moonbound | Xan Atropus | Arixa Pazela

Foes: St. Thomas Barran | Redmond | Kesh Hevro | Jas Katis | Jordi Massad | Tamna Korvan​

 

[Kesh Hevro]

SYSTEM SHOCK: ABSOLUTE RESOLVE
Wayward Son - Chapter 1
———
GEAR: Customized Type 76 Covert Armour | Type 73 Compact Pisto | Type 74 Assault Rifle
HELLIONS: Jas Katis | Tamna Korvan
GE: Jordi Massad | Redmond | Sid Berik | St. Thomas Barran
TSC: Acier Moonbound | Ansisa | Arixa Pazela | Darth Amaymon | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Lysander von Ascania | Varin Mortifer | Xan Atropus
ENGAGING: Delvin jeth (Soon)

ROTTWEILER​

CORUSCANT

The view from the bridge of the Obsidian Spear was a visceral record of a dying status quo. Below, the glittering ecumenopolis of Coruscant was being choked by columns of black smoke and the jagged, crimson streaks of Sith Covenant dropships. The Galactic Empire, the very entity that had signed the Hellions' payroll to secure this sector, was reeling under a System Shock it had failed to anticipate. Kesh Hevro stood in the center of the pressurized staging bay, his silhouette framed by the flickering orange glow of the orbital battles raging outside the transparisteel. He didn't look at the burning world with the desperation of an idealist; he looked at it as a strategist assessing a liquidation.

The ship shuddered as Imperial point-defense fire roared nearby, trying in vain to stem the tide of the Sith's mindless onslaught. Around Kesh, the Hellions Commandos synchronized their gear in silence; a hybrid force of biological specialists and high-spec droids designed for precision rather than the blunt-force attrition of the Imperial Stormtrooper corps. Kesh checked the magnetic seals on his pressurized jump-suit, his eyes fixed on the primary objective scrolling across his HUD: the Imperial Security Bureau (ISB) Headquarters. The Empire's "security" was currently a sieve, and the Sith were intent on tearing the memory out of the Deep Core and massacring valuable assets; Kesh simply intended to be the one who held the bag when the archives fell.

He stepped into the cramped interior of a drop-pod, the magnetic clamps hissing as they locked his squad into place. The Imperial comms channels were a cacophony of panicked distress calls and broken status reports, a stark contrast to the quiet, short command chain of the Hellions' own encrypted network. Kesh knew that once he launched, the line between "contracted defender" and "sovereign looter" would blur.

The floor of the staging bay dropped away, exposing the pod to the vacuum and the screaming atmosphere of a world at war. As the pod plummeted toward the ISB spires, Kesh remained still, his breathing steady inside his helmet. He wasn't jumping to save a burning throne; he was jumping to secure his seat on another.

The pod's braking thrusters screamed a final, desperate protest before the hull slammed into a high-level skywalk, the impact rattling teeth and durasteel alike. Explosive bolts fired with a synchronized crack, kicking the hatch into the soot-heavy air of Coruscant's upper levels as the Hellions fanned out with an unmatched precision. Kesh led the exit, his boots hitting scorched duracrete while his HUD prioritized the ISB spires over the "meat-grinder" of Stormtroopers and Sith marauders clashing only a few blocks away.

Moving with a lethal, mechanical efficiency, the commandos bypassed the revolutionary anarchy of the Sith to focus on the data-vaults. In the shadow of the crumbling spires, Kesh set the pace, his intent clear: leverages, leverages, leverages.​

 

[Jordi Massad]

TAGS
Alaric de Braose Reiner Ghadi Doctor Afic Otker DT-9197 Lee Redmond

(OOC Note - I only become useful for the PvP when the attackers get into the building lol)

SYSTEM SHOCK
(COUNTER-INSURGENCY)
II

S C I M I T A R

F R O S T

​

ISB Headquarters, Imperial Center,
Coruscant, Galactic Deep Core (904 ABY)

'Frost - it has begun.'
'About damn time!'
'Do not be so eager, my young acquaintance. Patience is more becoming of a spy, is it not?'​

The distant sonic booms overhead were unmistakable, serving as heralding bugles, commencing sirens of dread and destruction, casting a disconcertingly familiar sensation across the back of Jordi's neck. But for all that this feeling implied, Scimitar would continue to urge his mind to fall silent for the sake of his own sanity, to stifle it's screechings on the increasing chances of enacting another,"TARKIN HAS FALLEN", order in his lifetime, as was written by the Hands of Fate, those Weavers to whom he still prayed. These Kandaran Ethereals, eternal scribes who provided guidance to near-endless generations of Massad's ilk, would keep the Galaxy's oldest spy as vigilant as the ISB needed him to be, especially in the nearing hours to midday.

'Any word from your contact?'
'Not until the turn of the next hour, Sir. But if my word counts for anything, I'm sure he'll be in touch soon.'
'Careful with the comms, huh? I cannot tell if I should be impressed, or wary. Nomads usually aren't so - um - clinical.'

​

'Well, Sir. Thats a problem I can solve quite quickly.', the young aide shot back confidently, briefly cutting himself short as he stood to stretch his legs and his back, standing to do so properly as he continued to pause for effect. It was obvious to Scimitar that Frost had something to say, and whatever it was, the old Kandaran knew it was enough to delay a clear and present opportunity to gloat on the matter; but Jordi, ever the eccentic, was never one to turn down some good, old-fashioned entertainment. Even smirking as he kicked back for the next part, resting his feet on the bench nearby as he listened intently, Massad calmly paid his due attention to the other agent as he admitted,'Their plan is so clinical, only, because it's particulars were devised by none other than the man you see standing before you.', practically bathing in his own perception of brilliance.

'Not bad, Frost.... Though it is a shame such an ego was behind it. I mean, no offence, but if we survive this fight - my first task will be to beat that ego out of your system.'

​

When the bodyguard detail heard this, every Tier-1 operator within earshot would chuckle, gradually warming to the old Kandaran, unlike his young Cademiman counterpart. Already sensing a change of culture within their realm's intelligence community, seeing something akin to meritocracy on the horizon, the well-armed ears of sympathetic curiosity were steadily beginning to accept the old spy as one of their own. But still, as for whether Scimitar's magic would work on Frost, they knew that none could say until the day was done, assailed by the nagging reminder that there would be much to endure until that moment finally came to pass.

'If it doesn't kill you tonight, I guarantee you that Fate will find a way soon after.... Ego, like hubris, must perish. So kill it, before it kills you.'

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Krasskorr the Maw Redmond Jas Katis Kesh Hevro Da'Razel Arixa Pazela
Arris Windrun Vexorion Acier Moonbound Mercy Xan Atropus

SWARMING THE CITY
{WARPOSTING/ISB COUNTER-INSURGENCY)
II

B L O O D H O U N D

G H O U L | K A R S E R E S | B R E A K E R

​

EXITING THE UNDERCITY, SUB-DISTRICT 6,
IMPERIAL CENTER, CORUSCANT (904 ABY)

'As soon as we hit that opening, everyone's gonna scatter. But the five of us-'
'We stick together, I got it.'
'Good.... Alright, thats us.... Fast as ye can, leg it!'
​

From hearing every footfall around him reverberate off the tunnel walls, to hearing those same boots sound like bare feet on a rainy coastline, everything seemed to change as soon as the open air opened up to the Karseren/Mawite agglomeration, marking the most surreal of contrasts on entry to the surface. For the Mawites, those feet would run without so much as a second thought, but for many among the Karseren mob, a moment or two would be needed to adjust. Even Karseres would need to wrestle this notion into submission, turning then to his lower-levellers with evident, fearful disapproval in his eyes as he growled,'They're not on the ground yet, but I'm not chancing to gift any opportunities to our foes here - move!', before turning back to join the Khan's little clique at a low-postured sprint.

It felt as though they were in the eye of a thunderous blizzard, scattering to all the slums and side-streets between ISB Headquarters and the Imperial Palace, disapparing into the shadows beyond like spectral wraiths, and all before chaos had the time to erupt across the inner-city. The Khan could almost feel that sense of uncanny wonder on the cusp of complete hellishness, that small glimpse into all the open-air wonders the Undercity folk could expect if they were to prevail, even feeling that pain of having to cut short the most-wondrous of first-time moments; but to the great credit of the Karseren Mob, Barran would note that they were quick to obey the orders of their Chieftain, eventually disappearing into the backdrop to await further orders.

The time to act was approaching from above, but there was far too much at stake to blindly shoot at the sky, and certainly too much to stand within reach of their adversaries' priority targets; yet fortunately, the Heathen Saint never seemed to retain qualms enough to spurn such actions, seemingly-passive warfighting instincts that many still considered to be undignified in such times, yet this specific mindset just so happened to play into one of the Bloodhound's battle philosophies. Pertaining mainly to his love for,"Waitin' yer turn.", Barran had long-since seen it's intriguing compatibility with Nomadic doctrine, as it's many hit-and-run principles of offensive mobility would consequently align with the Khan's way of thinking, and all at the meagre cost of a Goidel's sense of shame.

Such concepts were always among the first to embrace redundancy in wartime, and by the turn of 904 ABY, St. Thomas had seen this truth manifest four times over.

'Cul-de-sac to the left, alleyway cuts it in half - thats our route.... Follow me.'

Like ghosts, the agglomeration seemingly vanished; and where boots were digging in to stomp into sprinting motion one minute, those same approaches to ISB Headquarters would appear empty in their wake, leaving dust kicked up where Raiders were previously rushing en masse. Silent like spectres in the night, but this time, the only thing darkening the skies over the region were their adversaries' ships, seen all the more clearly in the five's sprint through that particular, low-reaching suburb, but there was only time enough to sprint for the nearest inner-city slum in earnest. The Khan was well-aware his window of opportunity would present itself, but he needed his foes' boots on the ground before any chances could be taken, thus his pride would just need to be swallowed down for everyone's sake, even if only for a little while.

'Yellow dots in orbit, Great Khan. Drop pods.... Ours?'
'No, Brother.... Our moment approaches - keep moving.'
'Hey! Come check this out, Brothers.'

At first glance, it seemed as though the Sakiyan was leading them down a dead-end, but the others could see that the alleyway had a turnoff to one side, and was well-covered by laundry lines and shopfront stalls. Thus the Khan silently accepted their beckoning gestures to follow, sensing the confidence in their decision for himself quite easily, and in that process of reading their intent, soon matched their sprinting pace with one of his own accordingly. Barran also knew that he, like his subordinates, had no alternative at the time, but what none could know would be awaiting them - deeper within the maze of the inner-city.

'Move it, Shriven!'

​

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

Allies: St. Thomas Barran , Jordi Massad , Redmond , Lee Redmond , Vabaun Redmond , Kesh Hevro

Engaging: Xan Atropus , Vestra Tane , Hasuras Na-Gerra , Lysander von Ascania , Acier Moonbound

Theme

The Core... The Imperial Center... whatever one may call it, the planet remained the same in the eyes of the Unchained. A planet filled from root to stem with weakness... with cattle. Despite the impressive skylines and extensive neon lights, the planet remained a pile of bantha poodoo coated in gold and chrome. Even among the lower levels of the planet, the people knew little of true struggle. It wasn't a world that one such as Khamul would take much stock in, let alone wish to defend.

Yet... here he was...

Jaded as he may have been with the current state of the New Sith Order, Khamul found himself once again answering the call. This time, however, it wasn't at the bidding of the Sith'ari that he had pledged his sword to for years upon years. No... it was St. Thomas Barran that had called his banners to bear. Few of the Maw's former numbers remained, and with their dwindling presence among the galaxy, Khamul had found his cause at the helm of Death's Hand hindered. But his recent reunion with Thomas changed that. Once again the fire was ignited, its embers stoked in the great anticipation of blood to come. And with that promise, Death's Hand would find itself once again in the trenches of galactic warfare, eager to satiate their eternal bloodlust.

They made their way through the labyrinthine causeways of the undercity, each member of Death's Hand maintaining a steady persistence with each step. They moved with purpose, yet in silence, each beskar-clad warrior withholding their rage until the appropriate hour.

Khamul calmly reached for his commlink, reaching out the the Heathen Saint as they made their way through the city.

<<Unchained to Bloodhound. We have pressed forth. Awaiting further orders.>>

Awaiting orders wasn't exactly the sort of thing expected of the Mand'alor, but Khamul was no fool. He respected the tactical mind of Thomas, and though the Unchained was no grunt, Khamul saw the man as an equal... at least, in his own right.

Either way... there was a fight to be won, and the Unchained wouldn't be the one to compromise their victory.

 

[Arixa Pazela]

---

---

Imperial Centre (Coruscant), Corusca sector;
Heart of the Galactic Empire, The Sith Covenant.
Tags:-
TSC: Acier Moonbound | Xan Atropus | Vestra Tane | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Lysander von Ascania | Varin Mortifer | Ansisa | Darth Amaymon
GE: Redmond | Jordi Massad | St. Thomas Barran | Tamna Korvan

---

SYSTEM SHOCK, OBJECTIVE II
' Fear Control '

~

They picked me up out on New Plympto. I was running spice out there when the Imps came in and took it over. It had been easy money up until that point. I haven't really had the time to figure out what happened to my collection since then. They put me in a place called the Veneration. A factory prison. Built by some high up architect, I was told. Rumours were that they were tied to some cult hiding among the brass. I paid that no attention. Already had enough on my plate.

These were hard times. You won't believe what some people do to get by. They can make anything up. One day some officer came in and performed a blood-test to look for something but I couldn't tell what for. I was just happy to be out of the dirt for a few hours. I'll take a cold cell over the desert any day. Suddenly I was being carted off to somewhere else. Not like I was going to complain. I'd do anything to not go back there.

I'll never forget the name of the ship. Twilight Gladius. I was glad when we got the chance to break out. Even when I found out where we were going.

~

Artificial air scrubbers whirred above the Dark Jedi as the prison ship Twilight Gladius drew closer to the heart of the Galactic Empire.

Arixa admired the welts that were still cut into her wrists as cool air hit her. It was nice to be out of the desert again. Sometimes it was easy to forget these small moments of bliss. In the reflection of nearby screen, Arixa took the moment to look at her face. It had been a long time since she last saw herself and the face starring back at her was unrecognisable. Nearby voices broke her concentration and she was quietly thankful for the distraction. Diverting her gaze away from transparisteel towards them Arixa listened to the man behind the mask, and one of her fellow inmates.

Like her life depended on it.

"What do we do with the rest of the crew once we land?"

"Kill them all once we land."

"And then we're free to go?"

"What you do with your freedom is of no concern to me. Take it and run if you wish, or if you desire to get back at those who sought to enslave and break you, then join me... Together we can make an Empire bleed."

Trawling along edges of the bridge Arixa figured that the masked man (Xan) was the one responsible for the attack on the Twilight Gladius and therefore the reason why she was now free from her cell. He also represented the best opportunity to escape Imperial detention before she was delivered to wherever it was they were transporting her to in the first place. Yet, in the viewing screen ahead, the planet got bigger and therefore closer with every passing second. This wasn't an escape. It was an attack of some kind and everyone on board was now being roped in.

Even if they didn't want to be.

A chorus of disagreement and pleas to be let go were echoed by some across the bridge. Others looked excited at the prospect of getting some back against the regime who had them captured. Arixa did not join in with the noise. Instead, she found herself looking for a weapon. Half-a-dozen blasters laid scattered across the ground but they were empty, and their ammunition had been taken either by the men who had boarded the Twilight Gladius with Xan, or by the ships prisoners that they had broken out. Biting her low lip, Arixa took a moment to stop and collect her thoughts. All the while Imperial Centre, or as it was known to the rest of the galaxy as Coruscant, grew bigger on the viewing screen...

---

 

[Ansisa]

Tag: Direct: Hasuras Na-Gerra Lysander von Ascania Varin Mortifer
TSC: Acier Moonbound Xan Atropus Vestra Tane Darth Amaymon
GE: Redmond Jordi Massad St. Thomas Barran Tamna Korvan Arixa Pazela​

The rumble of Gerra's voice as his message spilled across Coruscant stirred something in her the same way the drumming beat of a war might. In truth, Ansisa cared little if this Empire lived or died, she cared even less about the ecumenopolis that lay beneath them, its blackened surface patterned a myriad of golden lights The only thing she cared about was the fight, the chance to make someone bleed.

And maybe, should the opportunity arise, the chance to claim a ship.

Her eyes didn't stray from the mountain of a man as he turned, battle lust burning in his eyes a wicked grin on his face, her own lips curling in a knowing smile. They would leave nothing but ash and smoke in their wake today.

Lysander's hum drew her gaze, the tune heralding the death that was to come as the other she knew only by name spoke to him. Familiarity. Something she did not truly have with either of them, but it didn't matter. They would do their part, drawing eyes and fire while she did hers, striking unseen and unheard.

"Would you gentlemen care to make this interesting?" she said pushing off the bulkhead she'd been leaning on and moving closer to Gerra. "See who can take the greatest kill or the largest trophy? I believe we have a throne room to top."

​

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

If you had not sinned so greatly,
Vahl would not have set a scourge like me upon you.

Engaging: St. Thomas Barran Lucius Redmond
Nearby Allies: Ansisa Lysander von Ascania Varin Mortifer​

Lucius, along with three other SDs, and a collection of several corvettes and frigates launched into the air with a response time that was sure to surprise the enemy

Each ship pulled into low atmo with a contingent of fighters and bombers pulling with them, prepared to meet the enemy in the air as they converged on their defenses.

"A worthy endeavor," Gerra rumbled in reply to Ansisa. "There are many prizes for the claiming above their headquarters."

The Vahlan Qhan pointed to the readout, showing the imperial ships clustering in low atmosphere. Ripe and ready for the taking.

The communications line still sat dead. No answer from the Khan of the Mawite Remnants.

"But the Khan called Barran is mine. His skull will make a fine addition to my collection."

'This might be the way to go, our sign to play Nomad after all.... Kark me, I half-expected them to turn and face us, but this? Wild, man.', manoeuvering well to sweep with the gravitational pull of the planet's outer-orbit. Almost as if by natural reflex, the sidelong glide around the back of the opposing fleet then continued on it's natural circular path, almost visible to the opposing fleet's viewports as the entire Mawite fleet pulled away toward the opposite side of the world.

The Sabaoth-class destroyer glided forward, apparently completely unopposed as the entirety of the Maw fleet moved away... to the other side of the planet. The gravitational orbit would bring them back around, but by then it would be too late. Gerra grunted. He needn't have bothered with a cloaking device on his vessel, it appeared.

The destroyer passed through the shield generator and its cloaked form continued on in atmosphere on a direct course for the ISB Headquarters.

"Choose your targets," Gerra said, eyes flickering closed as he stretched out with his mind, "We approach."

Stretching out with his mind, Gerra began a trance of Sith Battle Coordination. His thoughts stretched as if a wall of fire, the heat of his mind glowing around that of first Ansisa, Lysander, and Varin. Then the crew of the Scorn. And then, expanding even further, the entirety of his fleet. Every pirate. Every pilot. Every captain. He could sense their fears. Their hopes. Their dreams. Could feel the state of the battlefield as if it were a physical thing in the mindseye.

So too could he sense the presence of his enemies, glittering in the Force with their own dark flames.

The Khan was well-aware his window of opportunity would present itself, but he needed his foes' boots on the ground before any chances could be taken, thus his pride would just need to be swallowed down for everyone's sake, even if only for a little while.

He could sense the enemy clustering in the inner city, around the headquarters below. Recognized them from Chandrila. No longer did he need the communications network to speak.

His words boomed out in the Force itself.

"No answer? You truly are a craven cur, Barran."
​

Gerra exerted pressure upon the minds of a pair of gunners on a turbolaser battery of the Scorn. They turned the battery to point straight down.

"Witness."​

The guns thundered from the cloaked vessel as it moved through atmosphere and enormous lancets of viridian energy tore through the skies to crash into the inner city below in great columns of fire. They did not target the forces of the Khan directly, but the buildings all around him - those massive skyscrapers.

Thousands of pounds of durasteel and transparisteel came crashing down.

This world would be the Khan's tomb.

​