Dominion On the Wings of Serpents | CIS Dominion of Ophideraan

[Eternal Storm]

O P H I D E R A A N
​

Ophideraan. The desert world for millennia had been untouched by the unyielding expansion and industrialization of the Colonies. Simply put, Ophideraan had nothing to offer; its climate was far from the standards to turn it into an agriworld, feeding the hungry mouths of the Core Worlds. It had no natural resources to speak of, the animals that inhabited the planet were hostile and not good-tasting, and in terms of industrial planets there were much more docile options systems away.

However, a certain industrious species somehow managed to conquer the planet and the life on it; a group of human warriors who had crashed on the planet learned to dominate, control, and fly the Ophideraan flying serpents. Soon, they had set up their own civilization, with them -- the Serpent Masters -- as the dominating force. Passengers of any starship unfortunate enough to crashland on the desert planet were soon captured and enslaved by the Serpent Masters, forced to build massive monuments, entrenchments, and other structures for their masters. Generations spawned new generations, and soon the Serpent Masters had control over a massive slave army.

The world, for so long, had gone past the notice of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, despite being virtual galactic neighbors. Yet one day, a yacht with highly-important personnel to the Confederacy onboard -- Defense Force officers, politicians, ministers, knights, and others -- was struck on a cruise by a passing meteor in a freak collision. Hyperdrive, escape pods and propulsion units damaged, the yacht was unable to avoid a crash landing on the planet next to it; Ophideraan. It’s emergency-position indicating holobeacon was located by the Ministry of Secrets, and when they found out just who lived on Ophideraan, they realized one thing.

They needed to get the survivors out of there, fast.

Spoiler: Objectives

Your spaceship has crashed on Ophideraan, leaving you and your fellow passengers stranded without adequate supplies and precious few weapons. Stave off the Serpent Masters for as long as you can. Fortunately, the ship’s communication devices are intact, so try to coordinate with your rescuers before it becomes too late.

Many of the Confederacy’s important personnel were on the crashed ship, and losing them to the Serpent Masters would deal a massive blow to the infrastructure and morale of the Confederacy as a whole. You’re able to communicate with the ship, so try to coordinate as much as possible. Your job is to break past the Serpent Masters and rescue the survivors of the crashed ship, but beware: the Flying Serpents are extremely agile in the air and resistant to blasterfire, and the Serpent Masters may have more defenses and weapons than intelligence believes.

The Serpent Masters have built up a slave population over the generations, dominating millions of oppressed beings through their cruelty and merciless ways. Slavery is highly illegal in the Confederacy, and the Serpent Masters must be usurped and defeated once-and-for-all. Use all the power you can to defeat the Serpent Masters and liberate the people of Ophideraan once and for all.

Not interested in rescuing survivors or liberating slaves? Ophideraan doesn’t offer much, but nevertheless it is yours to explore. Maybe you want to ride your very own Flying Serpent, or explore the caverns and architecture of the Ophideraan people. However, make sure that whatever you do, make sure to not become a slave yourself -- the Confederacy already has enough people to rescue as is.

Spoiler: Tag List

Alban Roble
Ettiene Kharne
Alkor Centaris
Amelia von Sorenn
Ari Riggs
A Arisone
Archon Xris
A Aston Jacobs
Aya Clarke
Bastille Rommer
Beric Layne
Bullwark
BX-1335
Caesar Kenway
Corvus Dravere
The Lord of Hunger
Alejandro Chadian
Damsy Callat
Jayce Pryde
Decious
Destroyer 2873
Eli-Mae Forrest
Fawn Alzi
Faye Malvern
FN-1138
Gerwald Lechner
Holt
IG-65A
Ingrid L'lerim
Joannis Campbell
John Locke
Eugen Aker
Karlie Lynn Destat
Kasca Fen
Kathryn Foster
Kayla Wylen
Kiff Brayde
Krystal
Kurenai Yumi
Kyber
Kyrinov
Lady Moll
Luna Terrik
Luna Vega
Lyla Quinn
Maani
Maple Harte
Maria Savilia
Maur
Muad Dib
Myrrdin_Emries
Nine Lives
Petra Cavataio
L LGMForever
R4-AUD
Razelle Breuner
Roy Americus
Ryk Gaelir
Rylan Kordel
SC-A1
Srina Talon
Startorn
Subject 73 Red
Talon Rahl
ToKola Bakari
Tess Valnora
Amz
Tyran Numeck
Valencia Hadley
Vanric Dannon
Veronika Fleischer
Visanj T'shkali
Kyyrk
Vyse de Valorous
Vytal Noctura

 

[TE-236]

Objective: Survive until help arrives
Tags: Open

TE-236, or "Gin", stood up from the wreckage of the ship. He looked around, plenty of other bodies were around, both organic and droid. A lot of them were just starting to get up as well. Good, plenty of survivors, most of the people here were very important to the Confederacy, and they would need the droids as guards.

Why was this tactical droid even here? Well, he had been selected to serve as, you guessed it, bartender for the yacht. Thanks to Gin's extensive research of drinks, ingredients, and recipes, his curiosity in drinks, and his skill as bartender and mixologist, he had been selected for that task on board the yacht. Then, disaster struck. Gin didn't exactly knew what had happened, but all he knew as something had hit them, and they crashed on a nearby planet. "Is everyone alright? If you require medical attention, seek the medical droid." Gin told the organic survivors. "Battle droids, scavenge for supplies. Weapons, ammunition, power cells, repair tools, food and water, anything that may be of use." He then told the droids.

Gin made his way through the wreckage to the cockpit. The pilots were dead. Perfect. Gin ran a systems check on the ship. The computer read the results back to him.

Engine- offline

Hyperdrive- offline

Escape pods- offline

Emergency-positioning holobeacon- online

Communications- online

Good, at least the last two were working. If they couldn't leave the planet, they would have to call for help and wait until the Confederacy arrives. He activated the communications and sent out a distress call. "Mayday, mayday. This is TE-236, of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Calling out to any Confederacy members. Authorization code: 493-Z3A7. This is a distress call. Luxury yacht 5389-771 downed. We crashed on the planet of Ophideraan, and require assistance. There are survivors aboard, repeat, survivors are aboard. VIP personnel are also aboard. Repeat: we require assistance. Sending coordinates." He said. He then set the message on loop and sent their coordinates with it.

He activated his commlink and contacted a squad of droids. "Exit the ship, and set up a perimeter outside of the ship." He told them.

"Roger, roger." They replied.

He tied the frequency of the distress signal into his commlink, so that if anyone responded, he would be able to answer. He exited the cockpit, and looked at the survivors. "Is anyone in need of assistance?" He asked.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

D E T E R M I N E D​

Wearing: xxx
Tag: Damsy Callat | Fury of Aerðs | Open

Slavery, Gerwald hated it. Hate was a strong word overused by many, but in this instance, Gerwald felt it was justified. His years on Stewjon had taught him what was considered permissible when anyone in society was allowed to be considered less than. His own sister had suffered unspeakable things because of such views, and he could only imagine what those who were called slaves would be put through. Given the choice as a Master of the Knights Obsidian, he opted to allow others to head up the rescue of the crashed cruise ship. His attention was solely on the Serpent Masters themselves. Their slaves would be freed, and their destruction would be final. All of it brought about by the hands of the lupine and his squire.​

His ship landed on the surface of the planet. The boarding ramp lowered, and Gerwald could feel it right away. ​

The world was arid. Another desert.​

Gerwald hated barren worlds. There were no trees, no forests for him to run through. Almost every creature was hostile, and nothing was worth hunting. Gerwald could only imagine how much Damsy, his squire hated this climate. He also wondered how well she would hold up if the mission took longer to complete than what was expected. Would she dry out? Gerwald knew nothing about how her nature worked in conjunction with her human one. If she was like him though, they shared in everything because they were one. ​

​

He knew what Morrigan would think. Like him she thrived on the hunt, but perhaps she was built for more dry climates. It was not about whether they liked the world or not. There was a job to be done, a task, and they would all see it done. Of all the things they could do, freeing slaves was the most noble of causes, one that Morrigan herself would resonate with. The scars on her back would not let her forget what she suffered at the hands of those who thought they could lord over her.​

​

“We are not showing them any mercy. People are not property.”​

With those being his only instructions, Gerwald pushed himself down the boarding ramp. They both would follow, it was what a squire was supposed to do. Gerwald did not pretend that any of his words were suggestions, nor did he deliver them as such. His rage, the deep rage he felt toward all those who had robbed him of his best friend, would be taken out on the Serpent Masters. Their deaths would be satisfying, but they would also be in vain. They would not satisfy his rage, only allay it. For a moment in time he would forget it. For a brief moment perhaps he could find some semblance of peace.​

Calling his lightsaber to hand with the force, the lupine ignited it. A yell, reminiscent of a wolf’s howl, roared from the depths of his gut as he charged into the compound where the slaves were being kept. The two guards at the entrance stood no chance. Their heads were relieved from their shoulders in swift motion. Blue eyes looked back to his squires.​

“No mercy!”​

 

[Allya Vi'Dreya]

Spoiler: THEME MUSIC

Equipment: Lightsaber, armor, blasters, medkids
Objectives: Survive
Tags: Gerwald Lechner | Damsy Callat | TE-236 | All others

The moments leading up to the crash were a blur. It was a room filled with smoke, the scream of alarms, and panic of the people. Allya had only a few of her troopers with her. They all had just acted as security for the cruise, one of their Dauntless missions. It should have been simple, it should have been safe…..

Then, blackness. It was a terrible broiling void, constant movement, and utter darkness and despair. As the light returned, Allya found herself on the floor. Smoke filled the air. Luckily, her suit filtered out the toxins, however….As her head moved, she spotted the injured crew members and VIPS sprawled everywhere as well. Yet, she did not see her soldiers. The teen rolled over, and tried to stand up. Pain shot through her left leg. Soon her right side, and the arm she had attempted to use to push herself to her feet also felt intense pain.

Slowly, the systems in her suit began to reboot. A voice shot through her mind, clearly. “Mistress, taking control of the Valkyrie System. Painkillers being injected, bacta solution is also being injected. Searching for medical emergencies. Hairline fractures in your left leg, a broken rib, and hairline fractures in your right arm. Luckily, Mistress….you are left handed.” The voice of IONA broke through the ringing in Allya’s ears. Her eyes focused, and she looked truly at the devastation around her.

“Engaging minor repulsorlift power to lighten weight. Initializing Inertial Compensator to assist. Good luck Mistress. Distress call has already been sent via suit’s internal comms, and what remains of the ships comm unit and distress beacon. Currently attempting to triangulate the crash site. Please, give me a few minutes.”

Her body moved. The pain was intense, but with will power, and the help of IONA, it was doable. "Thanks, IONA." As the girl moved through the smoke filled wreckage, she began to extract various individuals from under it. The force was a powerful ally in this, and allowed her to move pieces that would simply be too heavy for her to move on her own. However, try as she might, she could not find her men. Panic settled into her gut as she rushed through the broken halls of the ship. Her memory was foggy, and her brain hurt as she attempted to find her people.

Still, she found more people to save, and some who had already been saved due the quick acting droid. As she gathered survivors, she began to shout out orders to them, regardless of their ranks in society. This was her domain. “Those who can walk, put out the fires as best as you can. Gather any supplies, especially food, water, weapons, ammunition, and medical supplies. ANYTHING of use! Those with medical experience, form a small group and search for more survivors! Offer as much aid as you can. Those who are too injured, move away from the smoke!” As the droids moved to offer initial security she let herself feel a bit more ease. Soon, as she moved room to room, she found the crumpled form of one of her soldiers. In his back, many metal fragments had pierced his back, even through his armor. There was shallow movements of breath still in him. However, in his arms, protected in every way, an unconscious child lay. Allya moved faster than she ever had before regardless of the pain. She scanned his suit. It was inactive for the most part. “IONA! I need help. I’ll try and reroute power, I then need you to get his Valkyrie system activated!”


First, the child was pried from his arms. Unconscious, but breathing, with no signs of visible injuries. The young girl was placed to the side, gently and Allya examined the scene. Soon, a small tool belt was taken from one of her belt pouches, and used to begin to prod the circuits of the man’s armor. She had developed it. Power was rerouted from the emergency locator batteries and into the medical system. Once there was enough power, IONA helped to activate the weakened system.


Pain medication, bacta, and other needed drugs were poured into his system. “Should we remove the spikes?” Her lips pursed as she examined him. It was Flash, one of the clones she had brought with her to the Dauntless. She had known him for years, and had helped spear head his training. Even now, he had given everything to protect an innocent. She was proud of him, but refused to give up and just allow him to pass on without a fight. “No, for the best chance of survival leave them. Coagulant will stop the bleeding, it will seal around the spikes. Less to seal, less chance to die of blood loss. We can deal with the infection later.”

IONA went quiet, as the suit did it’s work. “Mistress. I have bad news. We crash landed on Ophideraan, showing data.” Her eyes flickered across her helmet hud as she read. “Oh Kark...we are not safe at all. We have to warn the others.” Gingerly, Allya picked up Flash. His armor, his size was much larger than hers. It didn’t matter right now, the pain, the strain, none of it. She COULD NOT leave her vod behind. No matter the cost. Her helmet moved to the girl, and gingerly, she lifted her through the force. She struggled out the door and down the hall to the other survivors. It was brutal pain and steps as her body forced itself. Once she was back in the main hall, she spoke out. "We have a problem! This world will be very hostile to us! We have to try and get weapons, quickly!” She laid Flash down near the other wounded, and gently laid down the girl, as her crew member parents rushed over to check on her, weeping.

She had found Flash, but...where were Drake and Blue?

 

[Shamira Karuto]

.​

Location: Crashed Ship – Ohideraan
Equipment: Purple robes, knapsack of the magics
Tags: | Vyse de Valorous |

This was supposed to be a nice, simple little cruise. Go around to multiple different planets, collect different types of soil for some more research back at the coven, and take some time to relax after the harrowing events of the last time she entered into the Nether with the other witches. The nightmother had even suggested this whole trip to her. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable way to relax her mind, as well as continue to do some more research. And, for the first few days, she was doing exactly that.

Of course, that quickly changed the moment the meteor decided to make its way toward their ship, crashing them on a very unexpected and undesired location. She had been thrown from her very comfortable position inside one of the yacht’s numerous lounges onto the hard metal floor as the ship had crashed, a quite painful maneuver to be sure. An unexpected one, as well. In the time that Shamira had known that these types of ships existed, which admittedly had only been a few months now, this was her first experience with anything like a crash landing. She quickly figured out from this experience that she never, ever wanted to try this again.

Shamira groaned loudly as she slowly picked herself up from the flooring, reaching over to move aside the hot cup of tea that had once been in her hand, now strewn all over the floor. A waste of a good cup. And for what reason, she did not know. These ships had always seemed so safe before, so one crashing and falling from the sky didn’t exactly compute with the young witch. Finding this ships command deck, wherever that might be, would logically be the first step in figuring out this whole mess. Maybe those..”pilots” would have a good answer for what had happened.

As she stood tall, her eyes began to scan over the rest of the common relaxation chamber for anyone else that might’ve been hurt in the crash, her eyes found a small fire that had begun to blaze in the corner of the room. Must’ve stared as something due to the crash. Shamira stretched out a palm toward the fire, clenching her fist suddenly to extinguish from burning anymore. Obviously, she had no idea if this would help anything, but fires on one of these star vessels didn’t exactly seem like a good thing.

With that taken care of, however, her eyes went back to scanning around the room, eventually falling upon a brown haired man in the corner, looking about her age. Heeled, purple boots clicked against the metal floor as she made her way over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder while reaching out through nether, with the help of some resident spirits, to find any injuries to his body. “Hey, you alright? Anything hurting?”

​

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

Equipment: [K] [K] [C] [C]
Extra: [X]
Tags: Allya Vi'Dreya | Gerwald Lechner | TE-236
​

Typical, that one moment Kredius acted like how most other opulant, bloated sobs tht called themselves Viceroys did, the whole trip had to turn out into a disaster. One moment, he was looking out of the Transparisteel viewports of a luxury yacht, having a conversation with the masked man who served as his most prominent confidant, the other moment, the damn ship was hurtling down towards the surface of some planet in the middle of fething nowhere. With the masked man apparently protecting Kredius more than himself everything went black for the viceroy.

...System reboot..."Well damn, this is not what I expected a simply relaxing trip to end like..." Looking around, the Viceroy stood up, his feet sinking in the sand as he looked around. It seemed not everyone was as lucky as he himself had been, with a few bodies sprawled around him. for a moment, he panicked when looking at his own reflection in a shiny metal plate which stuck out of the ground as part of the wreckage. It seemed his holographic display had been shut down due to the shock of the crash. Slightly annoyed, the droid buzzed a bit, doing an internal scan until he figured out there was no functional issue with the display and it simply had shut down on its own, probably some safety meassure. Another buzzing sound could be heard before the entire appearance of the droid turned into that of the viceroy of eriadu again. "Now where is HE?"

"Would you quit your whining?" Looking up, Kredius could see where the voice originated from, seeing as how the masked man who had traveled with him was sitting atop the polished metal part of the debris, apparently trying to regain his bearings and looking around for survivors. letting out a muted sigh, the masked man jumped down, dusted off his robes and looked at Kredius rather intensely for a moment. "So...I don't really know where this is...got any idea?"

The viceroy pondered for a moment, almost forgetting that he in truth was an AI implanted within a droid chassis, letting out a rather surprisingly lighthearted chuckle upon this realization. Quietly, Kredius accessed his internal files, started calculating the trajectory of their trip and the possible coordinates during their crash. It took quite some time, but when he opened his eyes again, all he could say was: "oh..."

"well...where in Valkoryon's name are we?" the masked man's eyes started to seemingly burn a little, the orange-y hue startingto reveal itself, in turn betraying the obvious bad mood the man was in. "You wanted to be more like a viceroy, you HAD to show more social behavior...even though you know I'd have never opted for it...so answer me...Milord. Where ARE we?"

The viceroy looked around himself again, noticing the sand again, looking up into the sky for a moment, before silently answering the question. "It seems we're on Ophideraan."

"Hmm, Ophideraan...where and what is...oh," The masked man realized it too, though the planet wasn't exactly known for anything of value, there was one thing he had read somewhere about that planet and that wasn't exactly something he'd ever desired himself to end up in. Slavery, this planet practiced slavery, without remorse, without regard to class or status. Something about serpents wandered around in the masked man's head, but he couldn't figure out what it was again.

Using his armor's hud display while looking around again, the masked man let out a sigh, pointing into the distance. "We're obviously not the main part of the ship's crashsite, I noticed that the hull was over there...the ship must've made a roll upon the crash, throwing us and those two poor sods over there out onto the sands here. I suggest we walk over to the main structure of the ship...see what we can do and get the hell off of this place."

"Yeah...you're right, sir..." Before the viceroy could finish his sentence, both of them could hear the groan of a man a few meters away from there position. It seemed the man was stuck under some debris and had just woken up. Looking at the fact that the man was pale white, the sand near his waist seeped with red liquid, the viceroy simply nodded and turned away when the masked man walked over to the poor fellow trapped under steel and debris.

"Pity...you survived, only to serve as my nourishment for this nuissance of a situation. Ah well, just think of...home..." The masked man's hand grabbed the poor survivor's face tightly, preventing the man from screaming. Though it wasn't much, the survivor could feel a chill spread through his body, right to his very bones. His skin began to turn leathery, his hair growing white and falling off, untill all which was left, was a dried out prune of a corpse, looking like a mummy buried in the sands for a thousand years. "Hmm...I guess NOW we can go look if there are any more survivors out there...maybe those slavers would come...I am truly starving for some more nourishment."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

He sat in the gunship, amid the many Confederate Defense Force elements dispatched to secure the VIPs and return them safely to Confederate Space. For so long, the Southern Systems had operated on the whims of a few people pulling the strings from different places behind the curtain. It lacked cohesion. There were failures in trust, and an inability to stand together.

CDF soldiers operated by a standard that Alkor understood. There was a calculus behind their every move, an unspoken knowledge that the man behind you had your back. It started and ended there, with the people that they served with. There was no true respect for the powers that be, because those powers did not respect the Defense Force.

It was time for that to end. Unity started not with grand displays or promises, but with actions. "Commander, what is our ETA to the drop point?" he asked the Dauntless XO seated across from him.

"Approximated at three minutes ten seconds," came the response. "Sir, we have enough VIPs behind the enemy's lines. Don't you think...?"

"There is no cause for concern," Alkor held up a reassuring hand. "I can handle myself."

"Sir, that wasn't-"

The ship rocked and turbulence took hold as they veered hard to the right suddenly. "Shields took a hit," the XO raised his voice and took immediate control of the situation. "Prep for emergency bailout. If we don't make the drop point, we're at least going to be damn close. We can punch through the rest of the way."

He looked to the Jen'jidai uncertainly. "If we go down..."

Alkor closed his eyes knowingly. "Continue as planned, Commander. Act as though I am not here. I will not slow you down."

"The Vicelord-"

"Understands," Alkor replied. "And will not bring down any sort of reprisal on you in the event of my death. We trust you, Commander."

"Sir."

.....

Post 1

 

[Kirk Tektus]

Equipment: Phase V Confederate Marine Armor (w/o helmet) - BAW-88 Blaster Carbine
Tags: Open​

Kirk's munificent, The Gauntlet was parked above Ophideraan and was required to serve in the rescue team to save the survivors from the yacht. He was taking a squad of marines down to the planet's surface along with a rescue shuttle to save the survivors of the crash. There were going to be other rescue teams bound for the crash so they all had to coordinate effectively to ensure the safety of the survivors. Kirk was going to be arriving with a couple squads of marines, since they're agile and more maneuverable than droids would be. A couple shuttles had left the munificent and were making there way to the planets surface directly to the crash site. While in the shuttles, Kirk picked up the yacht's single. The sound of TE-236 resonated from his wrist communicator. "Unit TE-236 this is Commander Kirk Tektus of the CDF Navy we're coming with exfil, maintain your position and hold out til we arrive." Kirk closed his comms just as the pilot announced to those on board that they were breaching the atmosphere. Kirk had already briefed his men on the, Serpent Masters. They weren't given much to work with so the briefing was... pretty brief as far as briefings go. What good was the Ministry of Secrets if they couldn't unveil secrets? It didn't matter cause once they directly above the planet's surface AA started to pound at them.

"Ahh dammit! They're shooting at us from below sir!" Announced the pilot from the cockpit. "Evasive maneuvers!" Kirk screamed into his wrist comm. "Commander! We're taking heavy fire! We should lan-"

The transmission ended with static and a loud noise could be heard outside of the shuttle implying that they got incinerated along with the shuttle and what followed was another explosion implying the rescue shuttle was incinerated as well. "Dammit! Pilot take us down, we have to-"

But before Kirk could transmit orders to the pilot, their shuttle was hit. "We lost one of the wings commander, we're going down! Everybody brace for impact!"

The warning lights blinked and the shuttle started to shake. Kirk and his team were in their seats waiting for the inevitable crash and eventually the shuttle crashed onto the desert floor, the whiplash disorientated Kirk a bit since he didn't wear a helmet but the marines were trying to working to get out of the ship. One of them shouted at the commander trying to wake him up. The ringing in his ears and blurry vision lasted for a couple second until he found himself laid back against the crashed shuttle while marines formed a perimeter. "Commander look at me." Rang the voice of the medic as Kirk got himself back together. He slowly stood up a little banged up but was able to collect himself. "Where are we?" Kirk asked the medic. "Still trying to figure that out sir. But it just seems like the desert."

"Dammit. Alright squad form up. Someone check on the pilots."

"They're already dead sir."

"Alright, we'll have to find whatever shot us down. After that we'll be able to call for reinforcements."

"Sir! We got Serpent Masters approaching." One of the marines called out and pointed towards the horizon as the slavers came at them on skiffs. They were gaining fast. "Hold your positions and fire when in range. We don't wanna waste our shots." But those skiffs were moving quick and their slugthrowers outranged their rifles. "Everyone spread out! Don't bunch up!"

No one was shot yet but the Serpent Masters' tactics and weapons were traumatizing enough. Maybe he should've brought some B2's and droid gunships. But once they were in range, Kirk and his marines opened fire on the slavers as they encircled them. They were trading shots but Kirk soon realized they weren't trying to kill them. The intense circling of the skiffs and the close shots indicated that they were trying to weaken Kirk and his squad. Catching up on this, Kirk pulled out a thermal detonator and primed it while timing the skiffs. After a few seconds Kirk threw the detonator in front of one of the skiffs as it made its run in front of Kirk, the skiff exploded once the grenade made impact. This distracted the other skiff as the encirclement was broken, giving Kirk and his marines room to maneuver and take down the demoralized skiff with ease. The crew was gunned down and the skiff crashed into the sand. "Everyone form up." Kirk said to his marines. "Alright so it looks like we'll have to take out the defenses in this sector if we're gonna get out of here. That means we'll be out in the open, we don't know what the Serpent Masters are capable of so we need to be extra vigilant. Watch your surroundings. Got it?"

Which lead to a chain of confirmations and they started marching in the direction they would've been going by shuttle, while Kirk tried to contact his ship. "Three Seven this is Commander Tektus. We've been shot down by hostile anti-air and we need intel on where they are so we can call for reinforcements."

"Yes commander. I will send the coordinates of the enemy's defensives once I have performed my analysis. Gauntlet out." Replied Kirk's XO tactical droid.

Next Kirk was attempting to contact the yacht. "Yacht 5389-771 this is Commander Tektus, we've been shot down by hostile anti-air and are down a squad and rescue shuttle. We're going to find and destroy the anti-air so the skies are safe enough to get you guys out. In the meantime hold out until we get there, Tektus out."

 

[Vyse de Valorous]

Objective: Survive
Location: Crashed Ship – Ohideraan
Equipment: The DH-17 blaster pistol


Waking up from a dreamless sleep, he felt the cold sensation of metal across his face as his eyes opened from the darkness, warm liquid dripping down his forehead along his face as a person hovered over, their hand on his shoulder, he was instantly assaulted by the sensation of the smoke that had filled his lungs. Doubling over as he coughed horribly, his coughs morphed into a shriek cry of pain from a fractured rib.

He slowly turned as a women spoke to him, barely conscious as his mind lagged behind the rest of his body. His already disoriented his ears were assaulted by the sound of alarms and cries for help, he stared blankly back up at the women offering assistance, before putting a hand to his face shaking his head as means to wake himself up, even that painful at this point as he wondered how badly he was hurt. He meekly wiped some of the blood off that was covering his face, his gashed forehead constantly dripping.

"I.. Heh yes.. A lot of pain."

He slowly lifted himself to his feet, looking around taking in his surroundings as saw the warped metal of the ship, blood dripping into his eye as he reached wiping it as he tried to remember how he even got on this ship.

"We.. Should get some place safer." He said his words slow and deliberate.

Shamira Karuto As she placed her hand on his shoulder, her spirits informing her of his full extent of injuries: A fractured rib, bashed forehead, and his whole body badly bruised extra so his front half.

 

[TE-236]

Objective: Survive
Tags: Vyse de Valorous Shamira Karuto Kirk Tektus Allya Vi'Dreya The Lord of Hunger

Gin answered the comm from Kirk Tektus . "Roger that. Commander Tektus. Maintaining position." He replied.

Gin walked through the ship. He noticed multiple others, some of them in a panic. He noticed Allya Vi'Dreya in a seeming panic. Hmm, interesting. She was helping the wounded. She mentioned that the planet they were on was hostile. Obviously, anyone could look at files. "I already have a squad of droids securing the perimeter around the ship. I also have sent droids out to search for supplies in the ship. Plus, I have already sent out a distress beacon, and the reply has already come in. They are coming to get us" Gin told her. He was already on top of things today.

Then, it was at that moment that the second comm came in. It was about how the rescue shuttle would not be coming after being taken down by the natives. "Copy that, Commander. We will hold out." He replied. He turned to the others. Great, now he would have to break the bad news to them. "The rescue shuttle, has been shot down. It will take a little while longer for them to take down the anti-air defenses and get another transport in here." He told them.

 

[Redd]

Wearing: Naked, na just kidding. Fur.
Tags: Gerwald Lechner

Click-click, click-click. Click-click, click-click. It was the sound of her claws as she paced from one length of the door that led to the ramp, to the other end and it continued. Redd had boarded one of the ships carrying some other Knight Obsidian warrior and although it may seem like she was anxious about the upcoming battle, it couldn’t have been further from the truth. So far in fact that the only thing that actually made her anxious was whomever that was flying the death trap. Many times had it swerved and she had lost her footing. Honestly, the metal flying ships was something that the Lupine did not enjoy ever since she was introduced into ”civilization.” In fact, she didn’t enjoy much of civilization with its silly customs and modern medicine. Upon leaving her old life behind with Gerwald, nothing made sense anymore. Up was down and down was up. Left was right and right was left. Many things left Redd confused and acclimatising was extremely difficult. Something about politics?

A growl rumbled along her throat while she waited for the pilot to finally set the ship down, while golden eyes remained fixated upon the ramp that would lead out to her freedom. No, Redd was not anxious, she was excited, thrilled even. Her blood hummed with excitement that she could barely contain, for soon there was finally something that she could kill. Tear into and rip out their throats. To taste the blood of her enemies and find comfort in something that was so familiar to her. Killing was all that she had known for a good part of her life. To kill or be killed and the Lupine had excelled at killing. To go from killing almost on a daily basis, to have to not kill people, had her clawing the walls and chomping at the bit. ”Recovery,” or so they called it, did not thrill her one bit. However she could almost taste freedom on the other side of the door, could feel the energy that powered her paws as they paced back and forth till finally the ship was steady and the door was opening to reveal a ramp lowering.

Instead of waiting for the ramp to finish lowering, Redd bounded forwards in a surge of power and leapt off the edge. She felt the rush of air ruffle her fur on the way out, saw that Gerwald and others were already there as paws touched sand and she kicked off running. The hot air rushed past her and warmed her thick pelt, but this wolf was used to uncomfortable situations and paid it no mind. Gave no thought to the fact that there were no gorgeous trees to frolic around and no grass to roll in. They were all luxuries that she hadn’t truly known since a pup, so being uncomfortable was not a strange feeling. The freedom though was welcomed and soon she would finally get to taste blood once more. She was drooling on the inside just thinking about it.

Eyes spied as Gerwald relieved heads from shoulders, smelled the thick scent of blood in the arid air. She heard even from her distance the man yell his order to his companions and she could not resist a howl of excitement. Finally she could smell blood and finally she would get to do what she had been doing for most of her life! She’d get to kill and it was allowed! Her tail lifted in the air as it wagged while paws thudded harder and strong legs elongated into a faster run, pumping her movements forwards in almost a frenzy. The Lupine had almost been caught up in the primal call of it all, that she had almost dived straight past Gerwald and into the fray to rip into anything that moved. However as she approached the male wielding the light stick, paws dug into the sand to halt her fast forward movements. The wolf came to a halt just behind him and she dipped her nose just slightly to appraise the kills at his feet. Redd needed to work as a team, just like her old pack had done and she needed to remind herself of that; that although The Confederacy was all different kinds of species, they were a pack. She wasn’t alone now, even though the killer instinct within, urged her forwards but it was more restrained than the howling excitement from before. However, the wolf was thirsty and a growl rumbled from within, signifying the blood thirsty call of a hunter on the hunt for blood.

 

[Beric Layne]

TAG: TE-236 | Allya Vi'Dreya | Shamira Karuto | The Lord of Hunger | Vyse de Valorous | Kirk Tektus
​

Beric had crashed on ships before. Well, to a certain extent, he had. The last time a landing hadn't gone so well, he'd fallen out of the stricken ship in the lower atmosphere, lost consciousness, and regained it just in time to slow his descent so that the impact of the fall wouldn't kill him before blacking out again. Not the most lovely experiment, and despite force healing, he'd been confined to physical therapy and a cane for months after that. Only recently had he returned fully to his physical self, and now he'd been the victim of another starship crash. Go figure.

Beric sat up, dusting off metal fragments that sat on him like fallen rain. His normal fur cloak was burnt away; animal products being a particularly flammable substance, unfortunately. He shrugged the singed remains off of his back, leaving only his rough-weave tunic and leggings under it. It was a rather light load, less than what he was accustomed too. His left leg was trapped under a long piece of metal debris; luckily he had the force and more importantly, his lightsaber. Summoning it to his hand, he ignited its crystal blue blade before cutting through the metal beam, using the force to cast away the remaining fragments. Picking himself up, he began to take in his surroundings; he could here a droid discussing tactics and terminology in the background, and all around them the ship creaked and groaned. There were doubtlessly more survivors in the ship, Beric realized, and likely without the same sets of skills and abilities that Beric had.

It was in Beric's nature to help out others; it was what had been ingrained in him since he was a child by his father, back then the Lord of Frosthall. Sure, this was not a freighter crash on Vandor, but it was the same principle regardless, Beric resolved as he began to make his way climbing through the wrecked yacht. Occasionally, when he found trapped people he would free them, directing them towards the 'command center' that the tactical droid had established. For those that were too injured to walk, he gave them whatever medical supplies he could, healing the most grievous wounds with the force before directing them to wait for his return. As he picked his way through the mess of broken support beams and flaming tanks, there were too many bodies to count -- too much death, too much grief, that permeated in the air and through the Force like a sickness. As he made his way through the wreckage, he saw the glad sight of two survivors, who seemed to be in good enough condition to walk and talk. He was at too much of a distance to hear what they were saying, but he was closing the gap as he hacked through the burnt rubble with his blade.

He was glad that two people so deep in the ship's wreckage would've survived -- it meant that others, possibly, could've two, and it would be two more pairs o helping hands to assist him in ferrying out the wounded. Making it through the rubble that had obstructed him, he looked up to gauge the distance in between them -- now essentially an open field, the side of the hull of the ships, perhaps. As his gaze cast upon the two survivors, he was surprised to see a third one, trapped under rubble and visibly wounded, even from this distance. At least those two will be able to help, he began to think before one of the two standing survivors, a man masked and covered in a robe, knelt down and began to muffle the man. Beric felt what was like a sharp tear in the force as the third survivor's life essence depleted, and failed, his screams muffled by the masked man's hand gripped over his head. The sight shocked Beric -- never had he seen such an act of cruelty, towards one who was so vulnerable, and he couldn't contain a scream of pain and empathy for the now-dead man. Pointing his lightsaber in a wordless challenge at the now-murderer, Beric's usually ice-blue eyes were now stormy with fury. He could not comprehend why a member of the Confederacy would kill one of their own, but he was willing to bring the masked man to justice.

Whatever it took.

 

[Fury of Aerðs]

"Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my faith, my soul, and turned my dreams to dust."
​

Wearing: xx
Tag: Gerwald Lechner | Damsy Callat | Redd

The runes carved in her back ached afresh, remembering the steady hand of the designer's blade thick in her flesh; and although she’d left the world where those nightmares were born, the horrors of what happened would remain imprinted on her memory for as long as she drew breath in her lungs.

Gerwald instructed they not show mercy, but the sentiment was hardly necessary. The beast that lurked within her craved its pound of flesh, and dominance over these slavers. If there was one thing that burned hotter than her blood, it was the idea that anyone believed they were superior enough to Lord themselves over others. Such were the thoughts that colored the minds of those who’d thought they had a right to deform her.

Long and elegant fingers twisted around the handle of the new weapon she’d been gifted until she could make a proper lightsaber, keeping the staff in her grasp, close. On a world where technological advancement had come to a stand-still for over two-hundred years, the rudimentary weapon was more familiar than the advanced blades her compatriots wielded, and not unlike what she’d trained with during the years she’d spent as acting avatar for the cultists Gerwald helped her eradicate.

Keen molten eyes stayed trained on the two Lupine as they surged forward and into the fray, Morrigan following alongside with her staff, and a plethora of knives, at the ready.

 

[Lunara Azure]

Slavery was one of those concepts that no-one in the galaxy could quite agree on. There were some who supported it, who thought that the act, the behavior was somehow moral, through their superior upbringing, or the fact that they were lucky enough to have been born into a family that had more money they had settled on the world view that it was allowed because it could never happen to them.

It could never happen to them.

Only, the institution was more pervasive, more widespread than you gave it credit for. Lunara had grown up in a poor family, only really kept from starvation, from destitution by the grace of their patrons. Zernia's indentured servitude was better, but still slavery in all but name. They hadn't been abused, they hadn't been hurt in any way, there were plenty of checks and balances against that. It was different. There was a pervasive knowledge that your life, the path of your life wasn't really your own. That it was bound to the service of another.

For years, as a young girl, the white-haired sorceress had wondered why her family had been so quick, so eager to give her up to the Church, to abandon their duties. But she got it now, she understood. Looking at this world, she finally understood.

It was the only way out, the only way they could see of giving her a chance of a better life, one that they just couldn't provide. Her father had been valued for his skill, her mother too but...well they were never going to be able to send her to the kinds of schools and parties she'd experienced. She'd sat with the movers and shakers of the planet, had been wooed and wed by royalty. Had lived a life out of a fairytale, at least for a little while.

It was the only gift that they could offer her, the only gift her family had been able to provide was letting her go.

It wasn't an option any of the families here had had. They'd been beaten into submission, had had all hope killed. All they could see for their children and their children's children was the same unrelenting torture they suffered. Maybe, maybe they'd be lucky and get a good master, or maybe one too free with the whip. What hope for the future, what chance for a better life could they see?

The Obsidian Master watched the wolves streaking towards the worlds myriad defenders, gathered to face them before her eyes lifted to serpents and their riders hovering overhead. The relationship that had tamed the world. The relationship that would be its downfall. The woman's eyes blazed with power as she reached out to the energy surrounding her, her mind manipulating it without thinking as a single word slipped from her lips.

"Freeze"

Ice grew along the serpent's wings, along their scales binding their riders to them as their wings slowed, froze still. Like statues, rider and serpent fell from the air, a glass statue shattering on the ground, sending shards of ice at the defenders. The sign of a young woman's rage, of her guilt.

Mom, Dad...I'm sorry

Gerwald Lechner | Fury of Aerðs | Redd | Alkor Centaris ​

 

[Jasmille Kavos]

​

Ophideraan;
Aboard shuttle in lower atmosphere
​

​

Seated in the hold of a shuttle, Jas held her helmet by the chin, visor pointed upwards as her eyes turn to those seated alongisde her. Responding to word of a cruise going down which carried VIP's of the Confederacy wasn't even a decision. Her commlink, nested in her ear, fed her the traffic from official channels as she glanced at each of the members of Tau. Through their visors she couldn't see their expressions but knew exactly how each of them felt. With the Grand Marshal absent, she had taken command of the squad in order to aid in the rescue. Spinning her helmet around, she pulled it on as her HUD came to life with the usual tactical readout. Fingers tightened slightly on the grip of her rifle, sitting in silence as she listened to the comms. The ride felt like time was moving in slow motion. All of that would change soon enough.​

​

A sharp inhale came as she heard about the hostile air defenses claiming a shuttle responding to the yacht. Tau's shuttle had launched three minutes after those under the command of Commander Kirk Tektus. Hearing the news, yanked the rifle off the ground, rising to her feet. "Pilot, put us down a klick short of the drop zone! Hostile air defense is to heavy." Turning to the rest of Tau, she simply gave a nod. "We'll move in on foot and aid in disabling local defenses."​

​

Stepping toward the exit door, her right hand gripped a nearby handle as she accessed her comm. "Commander Tektus, this is Corporal Kavos, Dauntless. Tau is en route and landing a klick from the drop. We'll be moving in on foot from there and will be able to render aid once in range." Looking to the Commandos again, she settled into the familiar mindset. "Once we land, form up and stay alert. Tactical spacing from the get go. This is their home so they know the land better than we do."​

​

"Ten seconds!"​

​

The pilot's voice grasped her attention as Tau rose and prepped to disembark. Switching hands, she took hold of her weapon's grip with her right hand as her left held onto a handle on the wall at her side. With one last look through her readout, the shuttle shifted as it touched down, ramp beginning to open as natural light slowly flooded the interior. Once the ramp was lowered, she moved out followed by the rest of Tau who spread out into a quick perimeter around the ship before it lifted off, kicking sand into the air around them. As the dust cloud finally began to settle, she got up from one knee.​

​

"Let's get moving. Stay alert and call out any targets."​

​

​

Kirk Tektus | TE-236 | Shamira Karuto | Allya Vi'Dreya | Vyse de Valorous | The Lord of Hunger ​

 

[Vytal Noctura]

S U R V I V E

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions

Tag: TE-236 | Allya Vi'Dreya | Shamira Karuto | The Lord of Hunger | Vyse de Valorous | Beric Layne
Also: Kirk Tektus | Jasmille Kavos
​

Cruises like this one were not the Nightmother's indulgence -- it was nothing short of a tedious duty. For all the benefits she could extract with the Mandragora being part of the Confederacy, there were plenty of costs associated with them. Not that they could afford to remain out of sight and out of mind. To do so would only invite speculation, baseless blame association, and inevitably unwanted reprisals. Moving among the people and spreading the word that their lives were far more interesting than what political maneuver could skirt the law that day was as important as learning how to wield an ancient Art.​

​

At least the ship was comfortable enough. The observation lounge certainly held a view worth a little idle chatter.​

​

When the meteors struck the yacht shook and bucked beneath them. Even the Nightmother stumbled and took hold of another sent in her direction. Bright green eyes peered up at them before they righted each other. Only emergency lighting and the paltry cast of far too distant stars lit the lounge any longer. Its occupants slowly sat up or stood to their feet with the glossy gaze one would expect of an unscheduled collision.​

​

Someone mentioned they had lost engines. Something about a lack of vibration in the deck plating. Vytal turned her gaze out the window and could see well enough they'd fallen off course. In fact, they'd begun to fall out of orbit.​

​

Being a humble woman of the natural and dead worlds, though a student in the technological one, even she knew a crash landing would be disastrous. Imagine the ship was an egg suspended six feet over a floor, with the floor being the surface of a planet -- only one outcome resulted. Yes, the ship was well designed. No doubt finely engineered and the materials of its construction worth the lavish expanse. So too was the egg.​

​

Could she conjure a doorway to flee? Certainly. Could she save the people in the lounge? Undoubtedly. What of the rest of the ship? What of Shamira, the young witch no doubt in a room such a this in as much peril now as she would be in the Nether -- and may not even know it yet.​

​

The green mists rose about the Nightmother as she conjured the power of the Void. A ship this size was easily within her power. There wasn't time to arrest its descent, however, without killing everyone on board. A starship traveling at even a fraction of the speed of light did not stop on the head of a Jawa without killing everyone aboard. That was the very thing she intended to avoid. Instead, Vytal set her power loose enveloping the ship, reinforcing it, and filling every room and chamber with an invisible presence.​

​

When the ship struck, the air itself thickened as though the people were instantly bundled up in the largest, softest blanket they'd ever indulged in. The effect last only for the initial impact, however. Enough to prevent people from shattering every bone in the body. Vytal herself hovered an inch off the deck as she fought to maintain the effect throughout the ship so it did not disintegrate as it quaked all about them. It was difficult to tell if it were the screams of the people or the groaning of metal that was the loudest.​

​

One collision punched through the hull, however, and managed to brush against the Nightmother. Her pale form was cast back, and the power over the ship evaporated as dew on a summer morn.​

​

A sharp cough preceded Vytal's eyes as they cracked open some unknown amount of time later. A large creature seemed to linger nearby, though her eyes did not focus well enough to see it. Even words did not come to her throat as she lay there. Thoughts, however, faint and gentle were felt more than understood. Lylek. The white-masked serpentine guardian that so often watched over the roaming Nightmother.​

​

The cool touch of a vial graced Vytal's lips. Soon a faint sense of rejuvenation followed. One of the Waters of Life she kept on her person. While the Great Spirit of Ryloth could not fashion a gateway for Vytal, it could interact with one of the potions. It was enough to sustain her physical form a while longer.​

​

With a sense of gratitude, the pale Witch lay there as Lylek vanished while others regained their senses. Unfortunately, for the time being, the Nightmother's extensive powers were only enough to keep her in this realm for the time being. She lay toward the back of the lounge with several broken ribs and perhaps lingering internal bleeding that'd been stymied in part by the Water.​

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Aselia Verd]

​

​

Spoiler: Intro Music

​

Aselia was in a nearby system following up on a few leads when she picked up distress beacon from a Confederate ship she sighed it was not something she could ignore especially Ophideraan she would not leave a Confederate in the hand of those slavers, her ship spun about in a high velocity turn before jumping into lightspeed headed for the system. She would have arrived just in time to see a shuttle be shotdown from weapons fire on the surface above it hung a much larger ship she ran it though her systems to identify and the opened a comm channel.​

“Gauntlet, this is Aselia Vizsla send me coordinates of your downed shuttle and the ship with the VIPs. I am going in.” she preprogrammed a flight path and moved to the back of the ship to arm up, as she did, she tapped on her gauntlet and opened a comm to her droid “You got the flight plan? Follow it, when I drop you break atmo and use the gauntlet as a shield” a few beeps in response is all she got, good enough for her. She secured her knives, some thermal detonators and her jackal sniper rifle to her armor then she filled a bag with extra items and tied it off to her belt dropping it right on the hatch that would soon open and drop her.​

She had grabbed onto one of the overhead handholds and the ship shot off at full throttle diving towards the planet, it was high risk but when was the life a Mandalorian ever not high risk immediately more weapons fire from the planet erupted from the planet toward her fighter, it weaved in and out with a graceful ease there was a sudden shutter too soon to be atmospheric entry.​

“They… They shot my ship!? I am going to kill them all… DROID, get my ship hit again I will scrap you!” she growled a bit then she felt the shutter of a different kind, she was inside the atmosphere now it was coming up, she braced herself as she felt a familiar rush of adrenaline and grinned under her helmet “Too bad you’re not here for this vod” the ship dove deep into the atmosphere and leveled off only for a moment and the hatch opened first the bag dropped which jerked Aselia out of the ship and down as she let go of the hand hold, within seconds of her being clear the ship pitched hard and burned toward space again narrowly dodging more weapons fire.​

She watched it leave for only a moment before she remembered the rapidly approaching ground and she fired her jetpack letting it burn hard all the way day slowing the rapid descent down to a manageable landing, no longer lethal it was still going to hurt like hell. The bag hit first and bounced a few times as if warning Aselia what she was about to feel and then it came she went in feet first into the ground before she threw her body forward into a roll to distribute the impact all across her body it would still hurt like hell. Luckily for her she had landed in a small clearing and the beskar protected her from much of the impact though she would likely be bruised for weeks from such a move.​

She lay there a moment as everything finally stopped moving and her breathe finally began to return to her. Slowly she picked herself up from the ground, assessing her own damage as she stood up both legs were hurting but they were not broken she gingerly moved each arms again tense but not broken she would feel it for days she was sure. Once she pulled up her armors battlefield sensors she picked up a second beacon, her sisters about five klicks out. She swore under her breath as she pulled her knife and cut the tie for the bag on her belt while tapping the comm on her gauntlet again opening a direct channel to Allya "Heya vod, in one piece? Snakes didn't get you did they?" she grinned a bit under the beskar helmet on her head and walked over picking up the bag and slinging it over her shoulder she pulled one of her blasters and started walking toward Allya's beacon. "I am about five klicks northwest will be there soon."​

TAG: Allya Vi'Dreya | Kirk Tektus | Anybody else on rescue​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Three minutes quickly deteriorated. Another blast ravaged the shields and pelted the hull with scattered bursts of energy. The gunship shuddered and began a hasty, barely controlled descent.

"We're going down!" the pilot called back to them. "Get ready for an improvised drop, another hit like that and the ship won't hold!"

"Drop in protocol theta," the Commander told his men. "Get ready, it's going to be bumpy." He turned to Alkor. "Sir, you're not equipped. At least grab a-"

"Make sure all of your men are kitted," he instructed. "Prioritize getting every man on the ground alive. Leave my safety to me."

"I can't let you take unnecessary risks, sir," the man shook his head. "Even with assurances, it's too dangerous."

"Consider that I have joined this campaign knowing full well the risks to my life and health," came the response. "We don't have time to argue this. Get ready to jump."

Alkor took a step toward the door and gripped the handle tightly. "I'll go first."

The vacuum ripped at them, and every soldier took hold of a security strap. Alkor looked from one man to the next. "Remember your orders. There are Confederates behind these lines. Controlled fire only, until the all clear is given. If you engage a Slaver, neutralize them and free their captives."

He took a step in front of the door and nodded in the split-second before the air pressure ripped him out of the transport.

In the seconds that followed, Alkor watched as one after the next, Dauntless filtered out of the falling gunship. Flames and smoke billowed out from the compromised hull even as the pilot bravely attempted to stay the course.

They free fell for several seconds before the ship was at a safe distance, and their chutes deployed.

A shockwave, then the horrific sound of an explosion accompanied the end of the pilot and his ship. Alkor gathered energy from the world around him into his limbs, and filled his lungs with air. His breathing slowed and his muscles relaxed. His perception of the world slowed. Even the screams from above dragged out until they became nonsensical.

When his eyes snapped open, a thin membrane of blue energy materialized between him and the rapidly encroaching sand.

It hit like a cushion, soft and he bounced when he touched down. The expulsion of air kicked up dust, and it took several seconds before the Commander could see Alkor standing, unharmed, waiting patiently for them to follow suit.

"They won't be expecting survivors to move as a unit," he called. "Keep your focus. We have surprise on our side."

"Damn right, that was surprising," the XO muttered as he sailed downward to join Alkor.

Post 2

 

[Shamira Karuto]

.​

Location: Crashed Ship – Ohideraan
Equipment: Purple robes, knapsack of the magics
Tags: | Vyse de Valorous | Vytal Noctura | Viana Morreth |

His confirmations only conincided with what the spirits were telling her. Though the spirits, at least the ones she kept around, rarely lied, it was good to at least hear it straight from his mouth too. Shamira took a deep breath, nodding as she did so, and set the knapsack to the side. “we will get to a safer place. After your ribs are at least beginning to mend.” As much as she wanted to leave this ship at this point, or at least find her Nightmother, he was only going to slow her down in the state he was in. The least she could do is begin his healing process so that he was able to move on his own. Thankfully, she had the exactly pieces she needed to start this off.

She retrieved two small, brown, leather sacks tied with a small piece of leather rope. Once both were opened, they revealed to both be carrying berries of different colors. One, white berries with a green stem, and another full of blue berries with small red spots. First, retrieving two of the blue berries, she placed them in the young man’s hand, then pointed to her mouth. “Paste them with your teeth, then hold it to the roof of your mouth with the tongue. It will begin to cut into the pain while I heal your wounds.”

The bruises were not exactly something that Shamira cared too much to heal, as they were superficial at best, but the ribs and the gash on his head were of note. The bag of white berries was picked up, and a good number were poured into the palm of her hand. Then the bag was placed aside, before she smashed the berries with the other palm. The witch’s hands rotated, continuing to apply pressure for a few moments, until what used to be the small fruit now resembled a clear, thick paste.

Knowing that the man would have already, hopefully begun to have done what she asked with the first two berries, she began work on actually healing the injuries. With the paste in one hand, her first two fingers scooped up a reasonable amount, proceeding to spread it across the gash on his forehead, then onto the cracked rip through a hole in the man’s shirt. The paste by itself did nothing, and was not special whatsoever. It was after she cleaned her hands of the last of the paste that Shamira stretched out her palms toward Vyse, chanting in an unknown language, while radiant green energy began to pour from her hands in streams toward his wounds. Within moments, the healing would begin, and his wounds would begin to mend. Though this process wouldn’t be painless. But that was the first berries job.

Shamira sat by for a few more moments, allowing the magic to do it’s work while packing her bag up. When it looked like the mending had taken it’s course, she stood, extending a hand to him with a nod. “C’mon. Let’s find my Nightmother. She’ll know what we should do.” The witch honestly did not care whether or not the man knew who the Nightmother was or not. That tall, pale, powerful witch was their best chance to get out of here at this point.

​

 

[Allya Vi'Dreya]

Equipment: Lightsaber, armor, blasters, medkids, EMP Grenades, Fragmentation Grenades
Objectives: Investigate
Tags: Gerwald Lechner | Damsy Callat | TE-236 |



Allya looked at the droid and saluted. A nod of approval was given to TE-236 “You tactical droids have long been the hidden strength of the CIS. Thank you for your assistance. I will place outer defenses in your capable hands.” She turned to look over her trooper. He was still in critical condition, but his chances had improved. No matter. The voice of IONA soon echoed in her mind. “Connection with Phoenix Base re-established. Lag time is noticeable, but within standard parameters. Audio, and visual databases reconnected, beginning data upload. Exarchs’ offices also contacted to let them know of your condition. As Hostilities are expected, shall I begin charging weapons and shields?”

Allya gave a small smile and closed her eyes for a moment. A deep breath was taken in, and slowly let out, as she meditated for a moment. “Make it so.” Her eyes snapped open, and the internal weapon systems, and shielding began to charge for battle. The teen’s suit practically hummed with the power of the two reactors.

She expanded her mind, and sensors. The force flowed through her, it twirled around her, and she felt the injured all around her. As she felt a survivor she would attune her sensors to that area as well. In this way, technology and the force worked together. “Alright. Let’s do this.” She stopped by a nearby weapons cache, and picked up a few EMP and fragmentary grenades, just in case. The girl then explored, and helped each person she came across. Soon she had explored as much of the main hulk as she could and began to walk across the sand. It crunched under her boots and she explored the outer debris field. A handful of survivors, but a larger number of dead. Finally she came across the body of one of her troopers. She knelt next to the man and gave soft prayer to Hod Ha’ran. “Rest well, vod.”


“IONA, expand sensors, I want to have a detailed account of everything going on out here.” IONA quickly quipped. “Don’t worry. Already did. We have a small group of survivors out in the desert, a short distance away.” Her feet began to carry her towards that group.

As Aselia Verd 's voice came over the comm, the teen let out a laugh of joy. “Vod. It’s good to hear you. Oh who can say, pieces of me may be here or there. But mostly intact. We are under basic exploration attacks. It’s mostly an attempt to get as many medical attention as we can, then set up defenses in time. If you can get here soon, all the better.”

However, in this expansiveness, she felt the scream of terror, the pain and agony of one who underwent some horrifying experience. The force presence and life sensor ping disappeared at the same time. She had no clue what just happened, but this was a hostile zone, perhaps one of them had entered the wreckage zone?! She drew her blaster, and flicked the switch to the maser function. Her lightsaber was snatched up in her left hand. With a snap it ignited into a purple haze. “I’ll contact you again in a moment. Something is wrong. IONA! Engage the Micro-fighter!” The Jetpack attached to her back hummed loudly as the repulsors quickly engaged. Deflector shields engaged and the turreted E-Webs flipped out with the wings. Not long after, her feet left the ground, and at intense speeds, she rushed the short distance to the wreckage where the strange feeling had come from.

She landed, the inertial dampeners and repulsorlifts taking the brunt of the force, but it still caused pain to extend through her leg. She looked at the scene in front of her. Allya saw Beric Layne , The Lord of Hunger and Kredius. Her eyes narrowed and she scanned the area. She saw no sign of standard hostiles. The young woman quickly cross referenced the three there with her databases and found them on the passenger list. She spotted the withered body, looking so...dried. A medical scan would be done quickly at a distance. “What in the name of the Vicelord is going on here?!” She growled out loudly, as her rage swirled around her. Oh it was obvious WHAT had happened through her sensors and the force. But it was just a little harder to figure out WHO. However, when there was a white masked person, in robes, it screamed Sith…..who else WOULD do these things? If it came to it, this wouldn’t be the first time she had to put down Sith or even members of the viceroyalty. However, rage, justice...these were not the appropriate responses in times like this. “I am Major Allya Vi’Dreya of the CDC…” Her eyes went to the husk. Different forms of vampires were COMMON in the Confederacy. However, there were a large number of laws on what they could feed on. Now, all she had was a guess, and...this man was still part of the entourage of a member of the Viceroyalty. “So….did you seriously eat this man? In this crisis? Honestly?”

The Daughter of Darth Metus sighed and shook her head. It was the only real explanation for what she had felt. And better to get to the bottom of it now, so they could move on with the more important things. She looked over at Beric. “Are you alright? Do you have a statement you wish to give? Or any injuries to report? Or you?” She asked about Credius and Kredius.