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Opening Pantora's Box | TSE Invasion of Pantora

Fiolette Fortan

Guest
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HIMS Elidibus




TSE: [member="Khonsu Amon"], [member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Vanessa Vantai"], [member="Sar-Ka-Roi"], [member="Taeli Raaf"]
ORC: [member="Gilamar Skirata"], [member="Atlas Drake"], [member="Cuan Kunn"], [member="Iron Giant"], [member="Acaleus Thorn"], [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"], [member="Kiff Brayde"]
OBJ: En Route to Pantora System, Sujimis Sector - 7th Fleet, Battlegroup Elidibus.
LOCATION: Aboard the HIMS Elidibus, Command Center (Bridge).

Situational reports poured into the command center, a recent renovation of the bridge now placed everyone well within view of Lord Admiral Raaf. She stood on a slightly raised platform where a holoprojection table sat displaying the battle as it unfolded. Raaf's red hair swept up into a tight bun that rested atop her head, white and gold uniform with the polished pauldrons on either side. Rank displayed on the left with gold colored cords that crossed over the seams, beside her dressed as sharply was her first officer, Vice Admiral Sentongo who passed along the latest battlefield report. "I trust Colonel Zambrano to have the situation well in hand after all the Emperor and his Shadow Hand are on the ground as well. No need to send Tarkin and his men, let's keep them and the rest of the Iron Talons prepared in case of boarding, however."

A raised brow from Sentongo.

"While I do not foresee such events unfolding, it is best to be prepared," Raaf remarked, her vision never leaving the datapad that rested in her hands. "Helm status until we reach Pantora?"

Captain Angeles a recent addition from Lorrd snapped his heels and turned to the Lord Admiral's attention, and reported with a gravelly voice, "ten minutes."

"Good," Raaf acknowledged and gave a knowing nod toward Sentongo who then barked the order for all hands to go to battle stations and brace for impact. The knowledge of the interdiction fields would be one thing and entering would still be bumpy at best. Still, the battle would be a momentous occasion as the Elidibus would join the Behemoth, Goliath and the Xiphos. It would be the first time that these four Super Star Destroyers were joined together in battle, aside from that it was reported that the Sith Empire had been fighting more than just the Coalition.

Raaf let out a disheartened sigh, Sentongo caught it but gave no indication that she had. The Coalition held a special place in the Lord Admiral's heart as it had been her place of refuge after the First Order. Lost and on her own, with little direction, it was among these stars and the help of one Captain Jorus Q. Merrill that she managed to find a way out of her own personal darkness. Raaf reminded herself that this was part of the job whether she liked it or not the Sith Empire's teeth had been brought to bare. Lost in her thoughts for the moment she could feel the gentle touch of her wife. Taeli. Taeli was the sole reason that the Lord Admiral had returned to service, the thrill of battle often lost its shine in comparison.

"Admiral." Sentongo's voice pierced its way through Raaf's thoughts.

Raaf's azure gaze surveyed the command center a moment before meeting with Sentongo's. "Ensure that the fleet is ready for revision, especially the corvettes." She ordered, knowing all too well how hard of a landing this could be for them. "Inform the War Fleets of our impending arrival, and ensure that Darth Arcanix's shuttle and escort are ready Vice Admiral."

Sentongo nodded in acknowledgment while the Lord Admiral set the datapad down on the edge of the holoprojection table. Her hands on either side of it as she looked down at the grid. She could see some of the old Alliance tactics in the form of starfighters, the others she had not seen in person and thus would have to adjust her current battle plans. As the Lord Admiral stood upright with a hand over the datapad, she caught sight of Air Marshal Pavanos, "right on time, as always Marshal."

"Call it a lucky guess, or the rather obnoxious calls over comms," a wink from the rather glib Air Marshal to the Vice Admiral. While Raaf did her best to restrain an eye roll toward her fellow brass. An honorary title as Pavanos vehemently refused to be called Commodore in any sense of the word. Then again, the woman barely acted as an officer to start with. The Air Marshal had already dressed out into her flight suit, the sleek black fabric with the pilot's apparatus attached. Black breathing tubes fastened along with the suit and sat waiting for the final adjustments. Pavanos's helmet was tucked under one arm, and even in the cobalt haze of the holoprojector's tables, the Marshal's sharp features could be made out.

"It seems you'll be meeting with a few old foes from the Alliance if these battle reports and scans are anything to go by."

"Aww, I love a reunion," Pavanos remarked as she took the datapad from Raaf's hands and began to examine the data for herself. She watched the Lord Admiral for a moment, and then looked to the approaching Vice Admiral, the only difference in uniform was the gold. The Vice Admiral held a black stripe where the Lord Admiral's gold had been and at that moment the Marshal wanted to chuckle but kept her bearings, for once.

Sentongo cleared her voice, "pardon the intrusion, but Darth Arcanix's shuttles and escorts have been prepared for priority launch."

The redhead nodded in response and returned her attention to the Marshal. Pavanos had nothing further to add so instead she made a motion to the Lord Admiral regarding the datapad. Raaf had no further use for it and the information was readily available on her chair's console she waved the Air Marshal off and waited until the doors hissed shut. Wordlessly the two headed for the command center's forward facing chairs, seats were now a common place where there had once been trenches and standing room only. The younger crews called them the crash out chairs, meant for moments of impact that the Elidibus and the near forty thousand meters of ships following were about to face. Sounds of safety straps being secured into their buckles became commonplace among the dreadnought, and they were not alone. Throughout the Battlegroup the crews of the various ships also prepared for revision and ultimately, for impact.

Another alert issued from communications, all hands were to brace, emergency crash out chairs around the Elidibus various gun stations revealed themselves. No one would want to be standing when they reverted back into realspace. Throughout the hangars, starfighters and support craft remained fixed while added mechanisms came forward. Morgause the ship's AI ran a final check on all crew and equipment to ensure everything was ready for the bumpy entrance into the Pantora system. Lord Admiral Raaf already hated this as Morgause counted down to revision...

FIVE

FOUR

THREE

TWO

ONE
 
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Objective: Defend the Light and the Plane
Allies: [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Yula Perl"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Zark"] | [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] | [member="Romi Jade"]?
Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]

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With Romi here, he wasn’t sure what was going on, it felt like her, but… so did something coming down from orbit. He wasn’t sure how to handle this, but what was right in front of him? He needed to deal with this situation first. There were soldiers nearby and he had to keep the fight away from them, let them go fulfill his orders, get the civilians to bunkers while his people, the Force users, the heavy hitters dealt with the extra firepower the Sith were bringing. He knew his own people were here and while he felt the troopers that were witnessing his and Romi’s powers were hurrying themselves off to follow the call.

Good. Someone was listening.

He reached out in the Force. Where was Romi, was this her? He was searching for a moment, until he felt it. The darkness. It was messing with his sense, disorienting. He looked around, the pendant on his chest, the one from the Jedi storehouse, the ‘crusader’ necklace. It was warm against his skin, felt like hope. Felt like the darkness here would be gone.

Seeing Yula, he nodded towards her. She was going to be fine. Kid was tough, no matter what her mother said. It was good she was here. Now if he could keep Carnifex away… They’d be doing alright. This dragon though, that was the problem. Shaking his head as it passed, he was reaching to the Force, his lightsaber, teal-blue and directing a barrier between his team and Carnifex.

“Got anything for that, Dax?” He looked to Cotan. “You?”

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“Alright men. We have our mission. Pathfinders leading the way. Got a late start to this party, but the Pantorans are fighting the Sith. We’re here to back them up.” The shuttle shook violently. One of several shuttles, the Lieutenant was leading a group of Pathfinders and other Alliance marines. The message was going all the shuttles. “Pathfinders, we’re going right to where its hardest. Leading in, marines and support will establish base. Mark groups for evacuation and set up the LZ.”

As the shuttles made it through the blockade, they hit the ground, U-Wings were dropping Pathfinders who were immediately opening fire on Sith who made their way forward. The larger shuttles were landing slowly, and deploying anti-personnel cover for the Pathfinders.

“Hold the line. Let those shuttles touch do---.” A U-Wing was taken down by fire, and an enemy fighter was chewed up in return. “Down! Once they’re set and clean this LZ we move ahead. Check your maps.”

Every soldier would be getting a ping as to where they were heading to. Enemy FOB. Wonderful, right?

“Pathfinders lead the way!” A sergeant shouted as the Lieutenant gave the call to move forward.
 

Gilamar Skirata

The most important step is always the next one
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https://soundcloud.com/user-981212204-987651608/24-standing-on-the-edge-of-the?in=justin-jeffries-1/sets/muse
Allies: [member="Romi Jade"] [member="Kiff Brayde"] [member="Iron Giant"] [member="Cathul Thuku"] [member="Cuan Kunn"] [member="Atlas Drake"]
Enemies: [member="Fiolette Raaf"] [member="Darth Ophidia"] [member="Vanessa Vantai"] [member="Darth Morbus"] [member="Khonsu Amon"]
Gil's Location: Hangar of the Behemoth [Armor] [Atin]
Objective: Kill the Emperor and sink the Behemoth II from within


The speed of his droid carved streaks of light through the inky black of space. The rumble in his feet, the heavy weight on his chest, his clattering teeth. It hurt every inch of his body flying as fast as he was, even within the weak debris deflector shield bubble of his droid. Without any real inertial compensators he was relying on his skill as a rider, a pilot, and the functionality of his armor to survive. Over half a century of beast riding had built Gilamar into the rider he was. Countless drops from low atmosphere and hundreds of vacuum sorties had made his body and mind strong enough to take this punishment. He was gripping the reigns so tightly that it felt as if his knuckles would pop. It was a dance of life and death...

And he loved every second of it.

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His droid let loose a roar that would come over aural sensors near by and fired its shockwave generator rods at an oncoming starfighter, its energy coalescing into a column of orange plasma that tore through the ship's shields and armor, bursting it into a brilliant explosion of heat and pink smoke. They flew through it, several beast riders falling into formation behind him.

<We're with you Alor!> they shouted over the com. Gil couldn't look back, the G-forces too great for any kind of big movement like that. Atin was pushing full speed as they streaked towards the Behemoth's ventral hangar. A fighter unlucky enough to fly into the flight of war droids found itself set upon by one of them, its claws sinking deep into the metal, sheering through its wing. It spun out of control and crashed into its wingmate before the flock sped up towards their goal.

<We're nearing the hangar, brace for gravity, slow to atmosphereic attack speed!> Gil shouted over the coms. His thrusters closed their aperture as the droids slowed to enter, turning the violent roar of his engines into but a high pitched whine. The enemy was waiting for them, a portion of the war machine of the Sith Empire. One caught in particular caught Gil's eye. He didn't recognize her, but the way fire danced in her eyes he knew she was waiting for him. But he had another target. Two bes'uliik that flew in alongside him exploded into the hangar as well, their missile pods agape. They fired into the hangar wildly as the rest of the flock entered behind them, but they weren't fast enough. The physical door closed and then the the shield aperture shut, bisecting a bes'uliik and its rider, sending its oil covered remains onto the hangar floor. Gil grimaced and fired his own concussion missiles into the cavernous hangar.


He'd been aboard only one vessel this massive, and the size of the hangar they were in, located for easy deployment of troops, was easily the size of a battlefield itself.

He let out a warcry that reverberated in his chest.
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Eugene grimaced at the battle before him. This fleet was massive, and he was beginning to have second thoughts. Hopefully Gil could get to the Emperor in time to disrupt the flow of battle. He'd never seen ships as massive as the ones they were facing and he'd only seen a fleet as large as this once, over the skies of Junction. The Ketyadyr rocked as it took glancing blows from turbolasers just far enough to be easily dissipated along their starboard shields. A fact that he took for granted for not a second later they were assaulted from the ventral turbolasers of the behemoth they sat beneath.

<Get us from under this massive thing! We won't be able to take its fire AND their's!>

<Sir! Bombers on their way!>

<Get our fighters on intercept! Launch all the fighters if you have to!> A transmission came over the semi-secure ORC channels. Therapy Command had arrived! He'd never seen them in action, but he'd heard of the medical fleet of the Coalition. He pressed a thumb against his com in response.

"By the Manda am I glad to see someone like you out here! We've got a situation. Our life, supply, and medical ships were ripped out of hyperspace as they tried to leave the system! We children and elderly aboard those ships, a lot of them were hurt when their hyperdrive motivators threw them back into the system. If you could spare some help evacuating those vessels we'd greatly appreciate the help!" Eugene's voice had a thick Mando'a accent but it was obvious even with his gruff sounding voice that they really needed the help. Sure they had shuttles, but only so many and they really couldn't spare their pilots right now fending off bombers and fighters of the Sith. Therapy Command knew what they were doing better than his marines did.
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In the hangar aboard the Bear the battle had been going on far longer than up above. Jace slid into his Fang fighter and ran the quick pre-flight diagnostic. The flight crew gave him the all clear and his fighter screamed out of the hangar and into the fight. His squadron fell into flight beside him and together they set upon the Sith fighters. They easily out manuevered the TIEs but almost immediatley one of his squadron mates was blown to bits. A pained cry came over coms. He would be avenged. Half of his remaining squadron split off in one direction and he pulled his yoke in the other, the fighter responding with grace. The gyroscoping wings of his fighter began spinning as he turned sharply and let lose a volley of yellow bolts into a bomber headed for the Ketyadyr. They dove into it like a flock of hungry shriek-hawks.

He was but a child when the war with the Sith had happened...But his grandparents had told him stories growing up. And now here they were again, enemies of the Mandalorians. His eyes narrowed behind his T-shaped visor and Jace sank into the flow of battle.

Summary:
  • Bes'uliik began infiltrating Behemoth II's ventral hangar
  • Ketyadyr asked Therapy Command for aid in rescuing their Life Ships
  • Fighters were sortied from all available ships to intercept incomnig bombers and begin their own attack runs
  • The Mandalorian fleet begins to move away from beneath the Behemoth's ventral firepower
 
Space
Enemies: [member="Gilamar Skirata"] [member="Cathul Thuku"] [member="Atlas Drake"]
Objective: Containment in the Behemoth hangar
Vanessa would arrive in the hangar just in time to see the missile bombardment of the ventral hangar begin. A TIE that had begun takeoff procedures soon took a concussion missile to the solar panel and soon crashed to the ground, pilot trapped within the stricken craft as he attempted to escape the wreckage. Vanessa would immediately raise her lightsaber, the bloodtroopers activating their own weapons as well. It was currently a matter of containment - Vanessa had ordered that all but one elevator to the hangar bay be disabled in order to prevent further Mandalorian incursion into the ship. Stormtroopers were hiding behind storage crates and laying down suppressive fire as the remaining pilots moved to get into their ships, trying to activate their shielding so they could provide heavier firepower against the Mandalorian warriors. Heavy repeating blasters were attempting to be set up by the heavier stormtroopers - there were no Dark Troopers or other members of her troops, which would prove problematic as on a one-to-one basis stormtroopers were inferior to Mandalorians.

Vanessa advanced along with the bloodtroopers. Electricity would arc from her bare fingertips and the gloved fingertips of the bloodtroopers - the arcs would combine, guided by Vanessa herself. The current was amplified, then directed towards the Mandalorians and their war-mounts - the droids were droids after all and such an arc weapon would hopefully be effective against the metal-armored soldiers and their droid units.

"I've been waiting a long time for this, you fallen Mandalore… Ever since you tried to roast me alive. I'll gladly return the favor!"

Meanwhile Vanessa's other ships would continue shooting at Atlas and Cathul's vessels.
 
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Location: Open Space - Pantoran Inner System Reaches
Objective: Defeat Worthy Prey and Destroy the Interlopers.
Allies: The Golden Company, The Sith Empire.
Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition.
Naval Complement: Thyrsian Classis I and Aurek Security Echelon (Background NPC's.)
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“Herald of the Sun,” Endurance II - Class Fleet Carrier.
Aurek Security Echelon.
Southern Galactic Plane; Outer Pantora System Edges.
Command Deck.​


As the Guerdon speared on ahead of the scattering Thyrsian formation, Auxilia Warform Zero-Zero-Seven fanned his tridactyl digits over the extinguished and lifeless shell of the command deck’s tactical display. While other Captains and Strategists would require that device to be active for them to harmonize their ever-shifting tactics, it was something that the limited artificial intelligence housed within the robotic platform didn’t require. The inherent capabilities of the ARES-1 platform allowed for the synthetic creature to integrate himself into the structural framework of the Fleet Carrier, and directly feed the gathered data into his mechanical shell; seeing the compressed digital representation, rather than the resource-intensive holographic representation. He watched impassively as the first section of Interdictors came online, artificially projecting a gravity well into the darkness of space. He also saw the subsequent events that unfolded afterwards, through the lens of specialized and encoded binary, which led towards the venting of several Mandalorian bodies into the void.

Whether or not their organic frames were contained within space suits was of little concern to Zero-Zero-Seven. For their survival, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t apart of his assigned tasks or programmed objectives. They were nothing but irrelevant distractions, which threatened to steal a portion of his body’s processing power away from the unfolding battle at hand. However, the Warform made sure to note their passing - before reinvesting himself into the flood of information coming his way. Should the battle be won and the Mandalorian presence driven from the Pantora sector, it might be useful to collect their corpses for research; be it the gear they possibly carried, or their altered physiology. While considered grim by organic standards - the Warform believed it was the only logical course of action. Their corpses would’ve been recovered by their friends, and sent into the depths of space - utilizing more and more resources to appease a fictional spiritual aspect of non-synthetic life. It seemed, utterly and entirely wasteful.

Through the information transmitted by the drones that were assigned to watch the Mandalorian fleet, the Thyrsian Warform witnessed the deployment of a multitude of War Droids tearing themselves free of their myriad carriers. While he and the Thyrsian fleet thereafter was not in a position to deal with those newfound threats, the dangers that they presented were uploaded onto the Sith-Imperial BattleNet. Such an act was intended to inform their paymasters of what now stalked through the stars, and was done in the hopes of putting a stop to those metallic beasts.

When the newest pulse of data danced across his digital consciousness, Zero-Zero-Seven turned his photoreceptor towards the nearby Interdictor. The Fleet Carrier that he was assigned to command, stationed itself near the first of the two Thyrsian Warships that bore several Gravity Wells into battle. The Herald of the Sun was meant to watch over and act as the vessel’s protector, whilst the Spear of Thyrsus held vigil over the other Interdictor. What drew his attention, and subsequent artificial concern was the sudden appearance of a monitor probe that was momentarily launched into hyperspace. Though the sensors were able to rapidly determine the point of origin, and it’s expected trajectory - there was nothing that could’ve been done when the improvised device detonated. A bright disk of ionized energy materialized around the minuscule probe and pulsed outwards; spearing through several patrolling starfighters and a portion of the Sun Child’s structural framework.

The starship’s projected energy shields pulsed once, before winking out of existence soon after. Following the sudden collapse of their deflector shields, several decks of the Interdictor lost power as their systems were overloaded and suffered a multitude of malfunctions. What caused the greatest concern amongst the Thyrsian fleet, however, was the critical failure of several gravity wells. Deprived of power, the integrated safety measures were unable to halt to arcane process - which saw the generators themselves taking their artificially generated gravity wells and spawning an impossibility in the emptiness of space. Several of the nearby Thyrsian starships began to inexplicably drift towards the helplessly crippled Sun Child; an act that pulled them out of their scattered blockade positioning, and placed them dangerously close to colliding with their gilded comrades.

Although the larger capital ships were capable of fighting against this newfound, and inexplicable navigational hazard - through a combination of maneuvering thrusters and roaring propulsion drives - several shuttles were caught in the Sun Child’s gravitational grip. Their diminutive frames were incapable of generating enough thrust to pull them out of the artificially created and semi-contained black hole; resulting in the slow and agonizing demise of nearly a dozen Ordinates of Thyrsian soldiers, and priceless cargo. When the excess ionic energy was finally purged from the system of the Interdictor vessel sometime later, the Gravity Wells were immediately silenced for maintenance and repairs. It would’ve been foolish to keep them active after suffering such a nigh catastrophic failure.

The Lord of Consecrated Iron, according to the transmitted tight-beam reports, fared far better than her sister ship. For the Spear of Thyrsus was able to react far faster than the Herald of the Sun - and found itself in a prime position to stitch the stars with lances of coruscating emerald lightning. Zero-Zero-Seven was sure to receive disciplinary action for his Sub-Spear’s poor reaction time, but that mattered little at this moment. Let them demote him back into the battle-line and replace him with a more efficient model. It was their right as organics, and benefactors of the ARES Battle Droid series, to ensure that the most efficient platform was placed where they would exceed all expectations. However, the synthetic creature wouldn’t allow such an errant line of thought to deter him from making amends. There was still a battle that needed to be won, and it would’ve been wasteful to resign himself to an uncertain future that hasn’t come to pass.

It was then that a nebulous anomaly was brought to the Warform’s attention, pulling him from an uncharacteristic moment of nihilism - which some would consider an unfortunate conflict of programming. Their starships were located some distance away from the planet - near the systems edge and the primary jump-point into the localized sector proper. Starfighters, Capital Ships, and everything in between that didn’t count themselves apart of the combined Thyrsian flotillas were exceedingly rare. So, when their collective sensor net had picked out an unidentified vessel spearing towards the disabled Sun Child - Zero-Zero-Seven found himself questioning their suicidal intent. If they were apart of the Sith-Imperial advance into the system and located much closer to the moon - well - whatever maneuver this spacecraft sought to pull may have paid off. However, that wasn’t the case.

The vessel was drifting through the stars on momentum alone, which was an admirable act of foolish bravery - considering that a starship’s agility on the battlefield was a key factor in the matter of life or death. Had they siphoned power from their projected shields, and various other systems in addition to their drive units - it was likely that they would’ve been seen as nothing more than a rogue satellite or a remnant from the ensuing battle above Pantora’s orbit. Since their shields were lit, however, and they were taking fire from the outriders of the Sith-Imperial fleet - that vessel was classified as a threat. Not a considerable one, by any means, but with the previous information in hand and alongside their present and predicted trajectory? Well - suffice to say - it would’ve been foolish to allow that starship to carry on without attempting to arrest their forward momentum. It was the only course of action that held a measure of logic within his artificial mind, as the Sun Child was left defenceless in the solar tides.

With the threat assessment made, Zero-Zero-Seven ordered that the Shrieking Masquerade - an entire squadron of Thyrsian Interceptors - was to be dispatched to act as an escort for that errant starship. In conjunction with those nimble fighters, the Belenos - one of the many Thyrsian Starglaives that escorted the Aurek Security Echelon - would be sent to that location as well. While many would consider this to be overkill, as it was one freighter-sized vessel that they were dealing with, Zero-Zero-Seven wasn’t going to take any chances. If the starships didn’t power up its engines and pull away from its present course, then, the scrambled interceptors were given the command to disable or destroy the vessel. The Starglaive was sent as an added precaution, just in case, the craft decided to power up its hyperdrive within the partially disabled net. It’s tractor beams would be powerful enough to keep it locked in realspace long enough to be taken far away from the disabled Interdictor.

Sure, it was unlikely that the drifting craft was going anywhere - what with the primary jump-point still locked down by the Lord of Consecrated Iron - but the Thyrsian Warform couldn’t jeopardize the Sun Child’s safety in its present state. Who knows what secrets, or dangers that vessel held.

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GCV "Guerdon."
Command Deck.



Khonsu expected that the Captain of the Utopia would answer his direct transmission, seeking to lay out the demands of a ceasefire, so that they may evacuate the non-combatants from the orbital battlezone. Instead, the communique was greeted - as one would expect - but followed by the request to hold. It seemed that the commander of their starship was engaged with other matters, and gave the order to standby. The Sun Guard was annoyed at the prospect of waiting to hear the name of his newfound foe but was willing to give the mysterious figure the benefit of the doubt. It wasn’t like whoever it was would be amongst the living for much longer, and their attempts at delaying the inevitable would ultimately fail in the end. So, the man mused, let them stall for a fractional measure of time. However, what made the matter worse - as it started to chafe his nerves raw - was that the connection between both ships filled with a repetition of catchy, sonorous notes.

“Really?” the Sun Guard asked, as his visor-shrouded features swept towards the command throne and the seated Astarii Saren within. The Hapan Officer shrugged before her attention was drawn towards other, more pressing concerns. While it was easy for the Navarch to deafen the transmission, by drowning it with the transmitted information flowing in from the combined Sith-Imperial and Thyrsian BattleNet's, such was not the case for the Supreme Sun Guardian. He was forced to endure the transmitted song, whilst the connection was held on standby. However, before his humours misaligned and the Thyrsian succumbed to unbridled irritation, the annoyingly catchy tune was silenced. Swiftly replaced by the calm and authoritative notes of a middle-aged man, Khonsu gratefully listened as the figure identified himself and demanded that they immediately vacate sovereign Pantoran-space.

The Sun Guard audibly chuckled. “You know as well as I do, Captain Drake, all those demands are is a waste of time and breath.” He was amused by the presented notions of standing down and turning away from this embattled sector. It was a simple tactic, easily seen through, but Khonsu was curious. He had the man, and his entire vessel, dead to rights. The Guerdon was a fleet-killer, and One outclassed starship held little hope of bringing down this advanced battlecruiser. Thus, the Thyrsian sought to tug on the fraying threads of amusement for a moment longer. Let them stall for as much time as they needed; Death would come for them all the same.

“However, I believe it would be dishonourable to destroy your vessel without returning the honour in kind.”

Without pause, the Thyrsian poured every ounce of lionized pride into his introduction - nearly making a meal of every vocalized word as it eclipsed the darkened curvature of his lips.

“I am Khonsu Amon, Supreme Sun Guardian and undisputed Lord of the Guerdon. You and your crew shall have the distinct pleasure of being our first catch of the day, amongst these shark-infested solar tides.”

As the conversation unfolded between the Thyrsian Warlord and the Noble Shipmaster, Astarii Saren busied herself with the minutiae of commanding the vast, battlemented bulk of the reforged Resurgent Battlecruiser. It was when the introductions began, that the woman noticed something that nearly slipped past her supposedly vigilant watch. The Utopia had reportedly launched some form of void-based probes, that managed to pierce the veil of hyperspace soon after they took to the stars. Whilst the Battlecruiser’s artificial intelligence and connected sensorium suite crunched the numbers in order to divine their trajectory - it was already too late. Those improvised probes reached their intended destinations before one managed to strike home - crippling the Sun Child and causing it’s systems to overload and malfunction. Several shuttles were lost, and nearly a dozen vessels were caught within the projected field of the malfunctioning gravity wells.

Thankfully, a majority of their respective Captain’s were able to avert a total disaster - but that wasn’t enough to soothe the tides of rising anger. Hundreds of Thyrsian Auxilia Soldiers weren’t so lucky. Their shuttles were caught in the grasp of the Interdictor’s malfunctioning gravity well generators, and smeared themselves across the cruiser’s mirror-reflective surface; causing untold damage to the various systems within and beneath the Sun Child’s armour plating. It would be some time until the Sun Child would be able to re-activate their interdiction generators, but with the newfound support from the Sith-Imperial armada and the Lord of Consecrated Iron? It wasn’t going to be missed anytime soon. After the report of the improvised devices’ detonation was made, and subsequently passed up the chain, Astarii saw fit to send a message to the Thyrsian Warlord’s HUD - informing him of the losses his armada sustained.

When Khonsu’s eyes danced across the scrolling feed of data, the man terminated the connection between the Guerdon and the Utopia - saying nothing in response. While there would be much to learn from a talkative foe, the Thyrsian suddenly came to the realization that the rest of his warships would suffer in pursuit of his petulant amusement.

“Run out the guns, Astarii. Let us burn this miserable vessel and those that stand beside Captain Drake for this grievous insult.”

His will, her hands - as she would often say in return. However, something was different this time around. Astarii’s attention was drawn, once more, to the hololithic projection afore her command throne - detailing the arrival of Twenty-Eight starships bearing the markings of the Confederacy from their signalling masts. Having sailed beside these very same vessels before at the Battle of Eshan against the reformed Mandalorian Empire - they were originally picked out in a friendly emerald hue. It was an oversight that was immediately corrected; altering the materialized hue into a vibrant, and hostile crimson. The Confederacy inadvertently tainted the honour of the Golden Company as they established their exclusion zone of the Six Sisters, and they would pay for such a slight in blood. Such a change was justified further as the Confederate Warships wordlessly opened fire on the Sith-Imperial armada, punching into the rear of their formation with volleys of turbolasers and ionic cannonade.

Astarii was in the midst of ordering several Sub-Spears of the Armada to break from their current tasks and engage their newfound Confederate foes when more warships began pouring into the System. This time, those warships bore the markings of the infamous Therapy Command - a reviled formation that harkened back to the interstellar war between the First Order and the Galactic Alliance - before both stellar empires collapsed. Astarii wagered that Khonsu still held onto the transcribed bounty for the Twin-tailed head of that Battlegroup’s commander. They apparently annoyed the First Order so much, that they saw fit to offer the man an exclusive ten million credit reward for her corpse. However, with that group of radical Imperialists falling from grace - it was likely that such funds would be scarce when it came time to collect. Plus, it was likely what remained of their government cancelled the exclusive bounty after the Golden Company torched the First Order’s holdings along the Ison Corridor.

With that newly transmitted data in hand, Astarii’s orders changed. The Navarch commanded that the stars around the twinned Interdictors be seeded with EM probes and remotely guided deadfall torpedoes. The latter of those two aforementioned options would act as an improvised fighter screen and the first line of defence for any hostile craft that got too close. It wasn’t perfect, but it would be enough to keep the Thyrsian Interdictors from succumbing to hostile aggression until their established positions were reinforced. Letting a sigh of frustration slip through her thinly-pressed lips, Astarii refocused her attention on the projected image situated before the command throne; drinking in the newly presented details with a glance. The Utopia continued along its intercept course that eventually led towards the Guerdon - but something else sought to intersect that path. Yet another unidentified vessel stalked into the fray and saw to distract the Thyrsian Battlecruiser by whatever means necessary.

It was the target-lock and spooling magnetic accelerators that caused a swarm of warning klaxons to fill the reforged Resurgent’s command deck. When those alarms were deafened, as they bled into a plethora of pulsating warnings, the massive magnetic accelerator weapon opened-fire. A single hyper-velocity round was catapulted through the darkness of space with the intent of spearing through the heavily-armoured hide of the former First Order-held warship. Had the vessel not been equipped with particle shields, that projected violence would’ve burrowed through several decks - killing dozens, if not hundreds - of enlisted personnel. However, the Guerdon was equipped with particle shields, but they didn’t flare to life as one would expect. Instead, a reactionary and invisible field was projected around the vessel. This ever-expanding bubble collided with the super-accelerated projectile, and immediately skirted along the shell’s projected curve.

Woe betide whatever vessel sailed in proximity to the Guerdon, as the reactionary repulsorfield shell forcibly altered the lethal trajectory of the super-luminal munition away from the massive battlecruiser - likely lancing through either a Pantoran or Sith-Imperial warship.

In addition to the super-luminal projectile, the newfound foe sought to seed the stars with plasmatic and ionic cannonade - shooting at vessels that were believed to be the Guerdon’s escorts - possibly hoping to destroy their non-existent escorts. The Thyrsian Fleet was too far away for the Battlecruiser to sail with an escort. It was what their Supreme Sun Guardian wanted, as the unfolding scenario would be the truest test of their newly christened flagship’s combat prowess. Let them hopelessly consign vital munitions to the void, such a display of power would mean little to the projected might of the Guerdon.

With three hostile warships bearing down on the reforged Battlecruiser, Astarii ordered several weapon batteries to devote themselves to engaging their foes. As the unidentified vessel with the hypervelocity emplacement was the furthest away, dozens of dorsal-based mass drivers swivelled into position - tracking the starships’ projected vector. Those railguns weren’t as effective as the hypervelocity cannon, but their distant reach and amassed firepower would be enough to bridge the divergent gap. In addition, six of the Resurgent’s refitted complement of turreted missile tubes would launch a score and four spread of capitol-grade seeking concussion missiles from the ventral surface of the battlecruiser. While they were still at a distance, their present heading would bring them into the range of the Guerdon’s guns. When that transpired? They would be introduced to the solarized lances - which rendered all conventional deflector shielding ineffective due to the harmonic, and arcane nature of that technology.

To the heavy cruiser that followed in the Utopia’s wake, three of the six remaining missile turrets fired a barrage of twelve magpulse warheads - that would scream through the silence of the void along an intercept course - and seek to deprive the vessel of its mighty deflector screens. No railguns turned towards that distant vessel, for if they were to miss their target, the discharged slug would spear into the moon’s surface - likely killing friendly targets. While Khonsu, and by extension Astarii herself, didn’t care about striking allied targets in combat with magnetically accelerated munitions - their hand was stayed by the simple fact of the Emperor reportedly making his way planetside. It wouldn’t do their contractual relations with the Sith Empire well if they accidentally bombarded their paymaster to death from orbit. Instead, it was decreed that missiles alone would be their only opposition. The Guerdon has chosen the KRV Utopia as her prey, and as the Revenant followed in her wake? They would be dealt with not long after that Star Dragon was left adrift and burning.

With the Utopia spearing through the stars, the reforged Resurgent focused her predatory gaze upon that outclassed warship. Hundreds of cannons, hailing from the kinetic, plasmatic, ionic, and solarized families, swivelled in their housings - each targeting their enemy. Once a lock was acquired, and the projected course that warship was charting was factored in, the various prow-mounted batteries opened fire. The stars filled with a colourful kaleidoscope of weaponized sunlight, and coruscating lightning - each intent on battering down and breaking the Utopia’s first line of defence. Whether they struck true or found themselves sailed harmlessly through the void, was known only to the forces of darkness and light that thrived behind the veil of reality. Captain Drake had proven to be resourceful at the helm of a starship, and it would’ve been foolish to believe that man didn’t have a few tricks up his sleeve.

He needed to be dealt with, as swiftly as possible - lest the tide turn in the Coalition’s favour.

| [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Fiolette Raaf"] | [member="Loreena Arenais"] | [member="Gilamar Skirata"] | [member="Atlas Drake"] | [member="Iron Giant"] | [member="Kiff Brayde"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] |​
Post Summary:
  • Atlas Drake's Gamble pays off - disabling the Interdiction field generated by the Sun Child.
  • Several Shuttles ferrying Thyrsian Auxilia Soldier's collide with the un-shielded Sun Child, killing them instantly and further damaging the disabled Interdictor.
  • One Squadron of Thyrsian Interceptors and a Gunboat have been dispatched to intercept momentum-driven the Jaster's Sparrow.
  • Khonsu is put on hold and nearly succumbs to the catchy tune.
  • Reactionary Repulsorfield Shell activates to "bounce" the HVC shell away from the Guerdon.
  • As the Guerdon's unescorted - long-range turbolaser and ion cannon fire is delegated to Sith-Imperial and Pantoran background vessels.
  • Twenty-four Seeking Assault Concussion missiles along with roughly Twenty-four dual-barreled Railguns target, and fire at the Iron Giant.
  • Twelve Magpulse warheads are launched at the Revenant, following the Utopia's lead.
  • Hundreds of Kyber-enhanced Quad Turbolasers, Ion Cannons, and Hyperion Solar Lances, target and fire at the Utopia.
 
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Her left hand destroyed, her ego completely shattered. Every subtle movement was pure anguish, and every breath a moment of entropy - Iresias being unsure if her body could even function after what she just experienced. Upon attempting to steady her footing and straighten her spine, an unbearable surge of searing misery erupted from within her gut. A thick crimson mass escaped her mouth, spewing inside of her mask; she ripped it away from her head, her face a tormented blend of embarrassment and anger. A slurry of bile and gore dripping from her lips.

Scars adorned her features, some parts of her skin appeared as if she were mauled by a wild animal. Iresias' gaze locked with the Sith, her body shaking and her organs beginning to fail. She vomited blood once more, grunting and gritting her teeth as she raised her lightsaber, somewhat unaware of just how unsteady she was. "I....I....w-will...destroy...you..." Her words were that of a stubborn child, but even more so, her words were found wanting of something physically outside of her now crippled capabilities.

Iresias began to move forward, sluggishly but devoutly intending on making her mark. Her legs buckled, and she then fell to a knee. Tears began to stream down her face, her head turning up to meet the face of the Sith. Unbridled rage was encapsulated within her stare, a wavering sense of refusal somehow denying the immediate plausibility of death. She attempted to rise once more, the Force granting her some margin of support as she picked herself back up, only to raise the pale blue of her blade in the direction of the creature a final time. "...Nothing...left...to lose..."

A pathetic, twisted child too prideful to give up.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]
 
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Any Jedi or Sith that walked onto a battlefield without some sort of barrier up and running was asking to get killed. So, when 'Romi' turned and let loose on all of them with a bone-shattering screech, the reflexive barrier Cotan threw up caught most of the blast; without having time to prepare for more, though, he found himself sliding along the ground after getting shoved away by Dax. Once both were over with, he stood back up from a crouch, activating his lightsaber.

Coren blasted something at Romi, who was talking...far more than Cotan was ever used to her talking. When Coren's attention turned, however, Cotan leaped in, landing next to Coren. "Get the Emperor down, and I can help," he replied. "I can't do anything against that dragon." His mouth set grimly, he turned to Dax, who seemed to be a bit disoriented from the attack.

"Dax!" he shouted at the Grand Marshal. "You take care of Romi! Coren and I will bring Carnifex down to the ground!" He turned back, setting a hand on Coren's shoulder. "I've got the energy here if you need me," he said, focusing for a moment to reinforce the barrier that Coren was making. "But I think I'm only going to be good for defense right now."

[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Dax Fyre"] [member="Yula Perl"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]
 
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"So weak."

The pitiful mass that Iresias had been reduced to in just a few short seconds was almost painful to look upon. He could feel the anger, hatred, and pain radiating off of her in waves, yet she could barely harness them to support herself. "So foolish." She managed to come back to her feet, muttering something else. She raised her blade once more, though she barely had the strength to make an attempt at an attack.

Tsisaar's own blade flicked out, insultingly knocking Iresias's aside. "I sense the Force within you, child," he growled, contempt dripping from his words. "And yet here you stand, and you refuse to properly use it. Why?" He gestured lazily with his free hand, pointing at her blade. "Go on, lift it again, and actually attack me." He lifted his eyes back to her newly-scarred features, with the mess of blood that was dripping from her chin.

A scared girl, who'd known scarce too few true trials throughout her life. Yet now here she stood, reduced to a weakened state like Tsisaar's own. "Or are you some child who doesn't even know of the Force?" he asked, his ire rising. He raised his left hand again, rubbing roughly at his bare right wrist. Without much resistance, some of the flesh sloughed off, leaving him standing there with an open wound, already festering, rotting; a more noticeable sign of the state he lived in constantly. "You think your wounds are painful? Debilitating?" he asked, mockingly.

"Use your hatred, girl. Harness it, make it hold you together long enough to strike at me."

[member="Iresias Sirax"]
 
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Location: Pantora
Allies: [member="Gilamar Skirata"] [member="Cuan Kunn"] [member="Gray Venasir"] [member="Kimiko Taiyo"] [member="Iron Giant"] [member="Atlas Drake"] [member="Kiff Brayde"] [member="Acaleus Thorn"] [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Vanessa Vantai"] [member="Darth Ophidia"] [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="Fiolette Raaf"]
Objective: Destroy as many interdictors as possible

"Looks like the enemy has forced its reserves into battle, but they're out of our firing range. Two more SSDs, one of which is somehow... ramming towards our Confederate allies"

"We don't have enough firepower to engage either of them in addition to what we are already fighting. We have yet to score any major kills, but we must stay within the enemy's dead angle so as to minimize incoming fire"

"Evasive action! Double topside!"

Even with the enemy being more ponderous than they were, even with Therapy Command being on the aft quarter and underneath the enemy, where the enemy had the least firepower to bring to bear, even with Julie's reckless flying in an attempt to have the Compellor stay in that dead angle, it was nevertheless the Compellor that took the brunt of the hits. Double topside allowed her to soften the blow, but a significant portion of the shields were still drained from that volley. Most of the other ships were nimble enough to only take glancing blows from the enemy's limited long-range firepower, and suffered less, but still took some hits nonetheless. Luckily the enemy didn't fire at the medvac units because it was then that the Mandos called for medical assistance. Their own medvac was pulled back into the system because of the enemy interdictors, and saving civilians was the primary strategic reason for even focusing on a cluster of interdictors. The grim reality was that her role was not so much to seek glory by destroying any key enemy command ships, but to open an escape route for evacuating civilians. And presumably why the enemy didn't focus on her as much as on the ORC elements engaging the Behemoth. That also caused the enemy to divert some of the fighter screen away from her. However, she would not ignore distress calls from people in system, even Mando allies.

"Incoming Mando transmission!" the communications officer blared.

"Patch it through"

"By the Manda am I glad to see someone like you out here! We've got a situation. Our life, supply, and medical ships were ripped out of hyperspace as they tried to leave the system! We children and elderly aboard those ships, a lot of them were hurt when their hyperdrive motivators threw them back into the system. If you could spare some help evacuating those vessels we'd greatly appreciate the help!" Eugene's voice had a thick Mando'a accent but it was obvious even with his gruff sounding voice that they really needed the help.

"Therapy Command is on its way"

Now that Therapy Command had to split its medvac resources between the civilians down on the surface and the Mandos' hospital ships, it was making the task of saving those civilians much more complicated, including but not limited to, children and elderly. The medvac had to make do with what's available to save those on the surface whose medical condition was the most critical, as well as rescue civilians from the Mandos. So all the available medvac craft was scrambling to answer as many of those medical distress calls as was feasible, both in orbit and on the surface, and, from the hospital ships' perspective, the orbital calls were closer than the surface calls. Also, the crew of those hospital ships scrambled to prepare every kolto tank, every operating room and so on, so forth, for the arrival of an influx of patients from both surface and orbit. Also, the moment of truth has arrived for the medvac units they needed to save as many from the Mando hospital ship as well as from the surface, but unfortunately she knew that she couldn't save everyone on the surface.

"The enemy has diverted part of its fighter screen away from us and into the Mandos!"

"Repeat!"

By now, dead angle or not, this order is familiar to every gunner onboard, every pilot that still had a cluster missile, and that meant that, even though some hostiles have been taking fire, they needed to make no adjustments to their target acquisition. But with one cluster missile left to each fighter still available, they had to make the second cluster missile count. Might have caused some shield damage, might have even penetrated shields in some cases on the first volley, and yet it was now or never to use it, now that part of the enemy fighter screen was displaced to engage the Mandos. Because there would be less of a defense for the enemy to mount against a volley of cluster missiles, and even with the enemy's opening volley, the enemy had yet to score a firepower kill on her, and almost the same in reverse, too. Once the second volley of long-range firepower has been fired, and the second volley of cluster missiles, it was then time for the fighters to return to hangar for rearmament, at which point she would be more vulnerable than when the fighters were still flying.

  • Moved to remain inside the enemy dead angle
  • Had long-range batteries and torpedo bombers fire at the interdictors from underneath and beyond standard turbolaser range
  • Had fighters fire cluster missiles at the enemy aft quarter from within standard turbolaser range

Capital ships (8550m):

Compellor (Compellor-class battlecruiser) | Shields: 40% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: interdictors
ANS Lothal (Lothal-II-class artillery carrier) | Shields: 70% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: interdictors
ANS Aleen (Lothal-II-class artillery carrier) | Shields: 75% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: interdictors
ANS Impugnment (Lothal-II-class artillery carrier) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: interdictors
ANS Skor (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: interdictors
ANS Positive KITA (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 85% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: interdictors
ANS Negative KITA (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: interdictors
ANS Job Engorgement (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 90% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: interdictors
ANS Polis Massa (Skor-II-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: interdictors
Jubilant Debauchery (Krayiss-II-class escort frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
Synallagmatic Contract (Krayiss-II-class escort frigate) | Shields: 75% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
Jabiim Train (Krayiss-II-class escort frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
Sleep Country (Krayiss-II-class escort frigate) | Shields: 80% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
Evil Rabbit (Krayiss-II-class escort frigate) | Shields: 85% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
Cinquedea (Jambiya-class pocket carrier) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
Kris (Jambiya-class pocket carrier) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
Khukuri (Jambiya-class pocket carrier) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
Kard (Jambiya-class pocket carrier) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-1 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-2 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-3 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-4 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-5 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-6 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-7 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A

Attack craft:

340 Chiloon-IV fighters
172 Tsubame torpedo bombers
20 Telepath-III strategic bombers
 
Allies: ORC
Enemies: Not ORC

Giving the entrance another once-over she began to doubt what it was that she was doing for just a second. Death wasn’t worth it for something that didn’t affect her, yet she also knew that she would not be able to live with herself knowing that she was one of the few people — if not potentially the only one — who could have stopped a terror attack and chosen not to. No, this checkpoint had to be hit. She was counting six soldiers, but there had to be more of them than that inside and around the perimeter in general. Going loud was a good way to bring more of them down on herself, and yet going in quiet seemed like it was as highly unlikely as anything else would be in a warzone.

And it was fair to call it a warzone. Fighters had begun to run sweeps, gotten themselves stuck in dogfights with one another as they soared above the city that through gunfire and explosions found itself cracked and crumbling under the pressure of War’s boot. Amea had not been here long, and there were so many planets just like this one, but the loss of history always came at a price that was too expensive to be worthwhile. It was the cruel but effective reality of the galaxy in the end and she had no way of changing that.

With the rifle in hand she took a deep breath and stepped out from the corner that concealed her from the troops. With her heart up her throat she began to walk towards them, rifle held at the ready by her waist for the approach. The first trooper to spot her found himself shot in the shoulder, the first one to respond to the attack found one in each leg. There was no point to outright murder, Amea was not looking to kill as much as buy herself time. They could call for help and she would deal with that as the situation unfurled.

The soldiers began to open fire and Amea responded. Moving from cover to cover, taking a shot for a shot allowed her to make progress towards the entrance, and as the door came into reach she flung it open. The troopers believed themselves to have surrounded her, approached and kicked the door open. Yet when the sound of their blasters died out and the smoke settled she was nowhere to be seen. The door to the elevator shaft hissed close and Amea let out a brief sigh of relief that her totally-actually-a-plan had worked.

Glancing up the elevator shaft it seemed to be mostly intact. There were some spots that had seen some wear and tear but no real damage. She could certainly find a fast way up if this was all she was faced with.

So, hey, maybe this just got a little better.
 
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Chimaera II

OBJ: Secure the front

LOC: Onboard Chimaera II, Kulthis - Belderone System
Allies: TSE | [member="Khonsu Amon"], [member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Vanessa Vantai"], [member=Sar-Ka-Roi], [member="Taeli Raaf"]

Enemies: ORC | [member="Gilamar Skirata"], [member="Atlas Drake"], [member="Cuan Kunn"], [member="Iron Giant"], [member="Acaleus Thor[/FONT][FONT='times new roman']n"], [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"], [member="Kiff Brayde"]



Yet another day in the Imperial Armada was going by very slowly for Lord Admiral Zahori Denko. She was busy preparing for plans on Kulthis. The world was under her guidance and protection and she had plenty of ideas that would soon come to fruition. So much plotting and scheming would soon turn into a reality. But, enough of the future. Zahori would have to live in the present. And presently, war was at hand.

A sudden commotion came across comms channels. The bridge of the Chimaera II lit up with excitement as messages were pouring in. The Lord Admiral's attention was drawn in by the commotion. As she looked around, she received no report or any word. She was a bit irritated by this. "What's going on? Someone tell me something." Zahori commanded.

"Lord Admiral," called out an enlisted woman. "The attack on Pantora has commenced. We are being hailed to assist."

Zahori rose from her chair and looked across the bridge. "Then assist we shall. Prepare the fleet. I want to be in hyperspace in 15 and combat ready upon arrival. Do we have a sitrep?"

"Nothing specific yet, ma'am. Just the enemy forces are formidable. Interdiction fields near the planet will make entry a bit bumpy, but nothing we haven't faced before." replied the comms officer.

Zahori walked over to the holoprojection table behind her chair and met with her officers. There were 4 of them. They were her advisers. Her eyes and ears on the battlefield. "What's our plan?" Zahori looked over the current situation displayed by the hologram. So many ships in battle with one another. Explosions were scattered about the battlefield. Things appeared even, but that was only temporary. As all things were.

Lieutenant Krane spoke up first, as he usually does. "Lord Admiral, as one of the strongest fleets in the Imperial Armada, Second Fleet will annihilate whatever paltry defense Pantora has and then some. I sense no other outcome than victory." He stood there after saying his piece with an abundance of pride. The others looked at him with glowing contempt.

"Right, how about an actual plan of action." Zahori interjected.

"Yes, of course, Lord Admiral. Well if you see here on the hologram, we will enter the system at this point, approximately. From there we should strike the enemy here. If we hit them hard enough it should cause enough of a disruption to turn the battle even further in our favor. What are your thoughts?" Lieutenant Commander Harthaw suggested. Zahori slightly formed a smirk on her face. "I thought you'd might like that, ma'am. I'll prep the squadrons then." LCDR Harthaw then walked off the bridge.

"The rest of you." Zahori began. "You will see to it that the fleet is constantly receiving orders and kept in line. I don't expect any abnormalities, but I've been surprised before. Keep me updated. Dismissed." The group departed and Zahori turned to walk back towards the center of the bridge. "It's been 15 minutes, helmsman. Are we prepared for hyperspeed?"

"Yes, Lord Admiral. On your command." the helmsman replied.

"Do it. And inform our comrades we are en route and prepare for a swift victory." Zahori commanded.

And, just like that, as soon as Second Fleet entered formation, each ship, one by one, instantly vanished as they entered hyperspace directly for Pantora.
 
Location: Dockyard Pantora
Allies [member="Khan Korynth"]
Enemies: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Kahne Porte"]


The Inquisitor gave a brief laugh at the blood hound's offering, as he stared at her through the red visor of her helmet. Her lightsaber clutched tightly to her fingers as the Sixth Brother joined her. "Perhaps if this wasn't urgent business... Blood Hound you have been a thorn in the Emperor's side for some time. You and the pretenders who call themselves Sith.... Allow me to introduce myself... I am the Inquisitor." She said through the muffled Vocabulater that hid her own tone.

With the Inquisitor moving in slowly, looking at the Jedi next to her. It seemed more than a match for the two of them, of which she would happily enjoy such an encounter. The Second Sister started to pace slowly around the woman, cautious in her movements as confidant as she was, she even knew that each target that was assigned to her was not to be underestimated with. "Let us conduct our business shall we." She said with a cruel laugh.

The next moment, she leaped with grace and agility as she launched her first strike upon the blood hound. Testing her skills overall, she launched strikes from her mid section to her head, in the grace and elegance of Form II Lightsaber combat. Trying to gage an overall feel of what she would be up against.
 
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ALLIES: ORC
ENEMIES: TSE, [member="Khonsu Amon"]

"Munition deflected, reloading..." The CybeResu Navigators were unfamiliar with whatever means of technology at shunted their HPV round off into distant space, but their resolve could not so easily be broken, and there was still some distance in which to test the limits of the superior vessels technology. Updates informed Iron Giant as she reconfigured her cybernetic systems for boarding.

"Dorsal missiles inbound, receiving heavy dorsal projectile fire, shield systems holding-depleting. Rededicating flak cannons intercept missiles. Commencing ventral dive... Additional commands?" The voice asked of the Iron Giant as her party waited in the "hangar" of the Iron Blade, feeling the energetic movement of the ship shift under the enemy barrage.

"Redirect ion cannon, turbolaser cannon power, torpedo projector power, overclock hypervelocity cannon reload. 'Fire for effect'." Iron Giant wasn't sure if such a gamble would pay out, but it was the only way to test the limits of the opponents capabilities. It could shrug off a single HPV round with ease, but if for no other reason than discovering the limits of their enemies, Iron Giant needed the Iron Blade to fire off these rounds in fast succession to see if it had any fortuitous effect. Suddenly, the Iron Blade's weapons, with the exception of its flak cannons, went silent. Then a moment later, the massive HPV cannon fired... then fired... then fired. In the span of only a second the canon's reload systems strained against their design to push off the extra rounds, on the verge of disabling themselves with thermal energy heating the whole weapon system... it was not likely it would be able to fire again for some time as the Navigator's waited for the systems to cool down from the stress of abusing their ship's native systems. In a moment, Iron Giant hoped to hear the report of its success or failure.

"Fleet Actions":
  • Iron Blade redirects all power from all weapon systems with the exception of flak cannons, to overclock the loading and firing mechanisms in its Hypervelocity Cannon to fire three shots in quick succession at dorsal turrets. The thermal and mechanical stress of overclocking the weapon system has temporarily decommissioned it while it cools down.
  • Flak cannons re-prioritizes to incoming missiles from the Guerdon, hopefully knocking some them out before impact.
  • Deflector primary shields are being depleted by mass-driver turrets
  • The Iron Blade is attempting to maneuver a dive below the plane of the Guerdon (to avoid dorsal weaponry and to face the ventral underbelly).
  • 50 CybeResu configure their Magno-Grip Boot and Gravity belt components, waiting to embark.
 
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Objective: Fight the big woman
Location: Pantora surface
Nearby? allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"]| [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"]| [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] | [member="Romi Jade"]
Engaging: [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

The Sith seemed intent on lingering above them, bearing down on Pantora from the atmos. There were so many ships in the sky that Yula had lost track of who was on who’s side. The battered city was shaded in shadows from the numerous means of dark side destruction, dotted and streaked with eruptions of white, yellow and red as the Sith continued their assault. Not the prettiest color palette, but a fitting one.

In her mind’s eye, Yula tried to feel everything. Uncle Dax was close, and the others were nearby as well. They were mostly light side or otherwise familiar presences, but a tendril of darkness seeped into the periphery of her senses. The Zeltron mix stood from her crouched position in the rubble as the dark feeling rapidly moved closer. Whoever and whatever it was, it was strong. And it wasn’t alone.

A pitched wail preceded a swath of speederbikes breaking through the haze, weapons drawn and baring down on anyone in their path. One of them, a large woman with a deafening presence was poised to skewer an older Pantoran man with her lance as he attempted to retreat. In an instant, Yula found herself gunning towards the man as quick as her legs could carry her. She managed to reach him in the nick of time, shoving him out of the way roughly before the lance managed to pierce him. But the weapon’s pointy end did catch the back of her shirt, lifting her up.

It was then were a dumbfounded Yula had her first look at the armored woman with a lance. Cropped hair, sharp features and bright yellow eyes. “Uh,” She’d never been this up close with a Sith before. “Your eyes are pretty, miss.”

Extending both hands, she urged the Force towards the woman’s speederbike, aiming to meddle with the mechanics using technopathy. Her intent was to cause the bike to malfunction and stop, but with Yula’s tenuous grasp of the skill, anything could happen…or not happen.
 
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The urge to live on couldn't be dismissed. Something within Iresias kept her standing, an unbreakable barrier of delusion; steadfast in the wake of pure opposition and utter, imminent undoing. All her life, she dreamed of being among the upper echelon of society. Not as a member of any gossip, nor as an addition to mere squabbles of the truly privileged, yet moronic. No, Iresias had a much broader ambition, a lust for the mercy of those around her, to be clad in the understanding that she walked among the true architects of fate.

To be one with the Force.

First and foremost a child of the ego - a broken sense of self, hellbent on satiating the most reptilian, primal desire to kill. To intimidate and control, to take and never offer affection or remorse in return. Where some would seek the tenderness and warmth of a kind heart, Iresias sought the means to bring entropy. To hemorrhage the hopes of the ones seen beneath herself.

Rage came from within, boiling within Iresias' veins as she felt the motion of her lightsaber being knocked aside. The creature's words fell upon ears that no longer cared. A numbness came over the noble, a slight ringing filled her ears as her body began to undergo an intense stress. It was a pain unlike anything Iresias had ever experienced. Everything in this moment had allowed her to finally access a kind of latent resilience. Her eyes came alive, bloodshot and glowing with a peculiar crimson. Footfalls began towards the Sith, the twirl of pale blue flickered across the walls of the sewer tunnel.

The scream of a warrior's ire resonated throughout the expanse of duracrete networks. With a renewed, albeit temporary vigor, Iresias lunged at the creature in a frenzy. Her critically damaged frame worked and performed with surprising swiftness, but at the cost of her broken body being consumed by the Dark Side of the Force.

If she was going to die, then she was going to need even finer company to join her.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]
 
Location: On the outskirts of the battlezone in space
Objective: Don't die
Allies: [member="Gray Venasir"] , [member="Atlas Drake"]
Enemies: [member="Khonsu Amon"]



"This isn't going to work, Captain. Turn the engines back on." Arla couldn't help but give her opinion. It was in her best interest to do so.

Lori watched as multiple dots appeared on her console's sensor screen, coming from the very spot that they were trying to pass. She looked up to the viewport, not yet able to pick them out from the distance, but she knew that they were there. "I wish Kaine was here. He'd of helped us." [member="Kaine Australis"] was her cousin now, but he was more like an uncle to her. As well as one of her mentors when she received her Mandalorian training.

"He is here. If he didn't catch our distress call, then he's more than likely on the surface." Arla was well connected to Kaine, and she knew that if he was on the surface, it was no good at distracting him from his objective. She had her own to follow. "You know my orders, Captain. They override the ones that you give me. Your plan will not work. Turn the engines on before they are disabled by the incoming vessels. I doubt that they are coming for your cans of fizzy soda!" Arla was well connected to Jaster's Sparrow too. She didn't even have to see the sensor's screen to know what was coming.

"Alright, fine! We couldn't get very far in a jump anyways..." Lori let out a quick sigh as she turned the engines back online. Gripping the controls, she didn't turn the ship around, but took it in a deep dive instead. The maneuverability of the Jaster's Sparrow was top knotch and she liked to utilize it. However that was usually in play; not in any real battle. She then made a steep arc, turning the Jaster's Sparrow towards Pantora. "Let Kaine know that we're here and that we need help! The Sith are after us!" Surely that'd be enough to get some aid. But her last call reached no one.

"Understood, Captain." Arla did as ordered. Though if she was the one piloting, things would be different. Gaining control wasn't her objective, however.

Lori checked the sensor screen to see if they were being followed. For a moment she thought that she sensed her Father [member="Veiere Arenais"] . Was he there too? Hopefully not. He was very far from home.
 
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Location: Far Side of Pantora, Beyond Orbit
Objective: Defiance
Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Gilamar Skirata"] | [member="Iron Giant"] | [member="Kiff Brayde"] | [member="Loreena Arenais"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Dax Fyre"]
Enemies: The Sith Empire - [member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Zahori Denko"] | [member="Fiolette Raaf"]
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COMMAND DECK
“I am Khonsu Amon, Supreme Sun Guardian and undisputed Lord of the Guerdon. You and your crew shall have the distinct pleasure of being our first catch of the day, amongst these shark-infested solar tides.”

Thyrsians, he should have known.

"I am truly honored my lord..." Atlas said the words, but his eyes were tracking the trajectory of their launching probes. They detonated, and when he saw the results the human smirked, "Allow me to welcome you to the outer rim. It is a dangerous place...even for sharks."

The comm line went dead, and a cheer erupted throughout the bridge.

It was a brief moment of celebration, for no sooner had his crew had time to pat one another on the back then they were reeling from their stations and screaming to be heard over shrill damage klaxons and sparking subsystems. The massive Guerdon as Khonsu Amon had named her opened fire with a torment of devastating capital killing firepower, and she had chosen the Utopia as her primary target.

"Helm! Course change!" he shouted, "Come around bearing three ten mark two fifty."

More groans filled his ears while his ship struggled to perform an angled corkscrewing dive under the Resurgent's horizontal plane. Atlas had fought First Order star destroyers before over Terminus, and he had learned a thing or two nearly at the cost of his ship. It was a matter of angular warfare, the enemy tried to position themselves where the maximum number of emplacements could deliver fire effectively. It was up to Drake to deny them that advantage while maneuvering into one of his own.

"Return fire, all batteries!"

No sooner had he given the order than their own shields were rocked by something that dropped their output considerably. It took his crew a few panicked seconds to realize that the battlecruiser was reflecting their heavy turbolaser fire back at them. Drake ordered a weapons cease except for mass drivers, but they were defensive emplacements designed to ward off enemy squadrons and attack corvettes. Against a ship like the Guerdon, it was like tossing a stone.

"Reroute drive power to shields," his face was a masque of grim iron, "New bearing."

The coordinates Atlas relayed had them ponderously turning 'upwards' to face the battlecruiser from underneath. He caught a glint of alien metal out of his viewport, and one of his officers exclaimed with no small wonder that it was a Resu ship. Atlas had heard of the strange species before, but only a handful of souls from his homeland had ever actually seen one. Even surrounded by the horror of war, he could not help but marvel at the wondrous serendipity this galaxy could still produce. It lasted only for a fleeting moment, and then his eyes hardened again.

"Load tubes one through six for assault concussion," Captain Drake waited in anticipation for their prow to align once more with the battlecruiser, "Fire."

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BATTLE BRIDGE
Hyperwave ion pulses detonated. The Sun Child lost interdiction systems. Like a delayed fuse, this collapse in the Thyrsian outer interdiction web detonated when the Verdict exploded from hyperspace with an entire Coalition task force behind it. Instead of the system's outer edges, Marshal Tyrosus had crashed his modified Darr Itah against the Sith's own gravity wells and clawed their way back into the real just outside of orbit.

The second task force had not been so lucky.

With no way to know which route to Pantora if any lay open, Rex had elected to forego a staging system and ordered any ships in range to jump from wherever was closest. The Sun Child was crippled, but the Lord of Consecrated Iron was still fully functional, and the second wave comprised primarily of Alliance Remnant forces had been forced to revert well outside the main battlezone into Thrysus' awaiting trap.

"Admiral Rejal," the marshal's voice was like granite, and gave no hint of the savage joy he now felt at being in the thick of the action, "I'm takin' over."

"I stand relieved sir," the Uukaablian breathed a sigh of relief, and from the state of his bridge Rex couldn't blame him.

When the Guerdon had fired her volley of magpulse warheads, Corbin Rejal had countered with the Revenant's main fusion lance, instantly vaporizing half of the missiles intended for his command cruiser. Autoturret fire from the Tahree's point defenses had eliminated another three, but three of the devastating Sun Guard munitions had impacted across the admiral's prow, knocking out even his species' famed forward deflector systems. Corbin reluctantly gave the order to withdraw, leaving Captain Drake to contend with the behemoth on his own while the uukablians' shields recharged. Like the Utopia, their offensive armament was primarily energy weapon based, but Rejal fired a full complement of energy torpedoes on his way out.

"What about the other interdictor?"

"I ain't worried," Rex let a humorless chuckle escape from his throat, "Check yer sensors."

"I don't under...oh. Oh my."

The rogue master barely reacted to the sound of a force staff crashing against the deck. Another joined in, then several more. All around him on the bridge, Rex's peacekeeper guards were thumping their ceremonial weapons in a pounding rhythm. They chanted in time with each echoing crescendo.

"Grond. Grond. Grond. Grond."

Rex started chanting with them. When it reached its apex, a massive barque unlike anything the Sith likely believed them capable of emerged. It powered up engines that were somehow oversized, and set a collision course straight for the Lord of Consecrated Iron.

"Alright boys," finally displaying some kind of emotion that wasn't simmering rage, the ghost of a smile graced the marshal's features, "Rip em up."

Turbolaser fire erupted from the Verdict, its binary fusion ion cannons sending massive pulses of crippling energy towards the array of star dreadnoughts levied against them. Ships under his command joined in, and Tyrosus felt the rush of battle joined when return fire began to sail their way. Both reinforcement waves combined with the remaining Pantoran defenders were still grossly outnumbered, even with the unexpected aid of some Mandalorian migrants and a Condeferate High Marshal, but the Coalition moon's ultimate fate would not be so trifling a matter as their enemy's Dark Lord supposed.

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EMBARKATION RAMP
KATHOL ROUGHNECKS GUNSHIP
"Move! Move!" Major Royce shoved his men off the ramp, heedless of incoming las fire, "Spread out!"

A Sith legionnaire, one of the Emperor's elite Blackblades, charged along with his fellow warriors at the Albatross gunship's smoking ruins. Royce brought his lancer's vibrosaw down in a scything arc that cut through flesh and cybernetics alike. A viscous coat of blood and oil painted over the blue of the marine's powersuit. Starchaser's men had secured a temporary landing zone for his Roughnecks, but in the middle of Pantora's capital city nothing seemed to last forever. The rest of Royce's men piled out of their flaming transport, it had taken an explosive round to the fuselage shortly after landing but the troops it was carrying were so heavily armored they barely seemed to notice.

The major caught what sounded like a bestial roar on the wind, and when his helmet's augmented display first detected the closest hydra soaring over the city's flickering central deflector he gave it a wolfish smile. Finally an enemy worth fighting. He let off a flurry of gauss rifle fire, electromagnetically charged shells ripping through even heavy armor, and cleared out the way forward.

"Roughnecks! We've got dragons to slay!" he raised his lancer in defiance at the flame spewing beast, vibrosaw hungry for sithspawn flesh, "Know no fear!"

Summary
  • Utopia begins evasive action and returns fire, further damaging its shield systems upon encountering the Guerdon's reflective defenses. Diverts power to shields, reducing speed rating to Very Low and increasing defense rating to Extreme. Turns to face the Guerdon and fires six assault concussion missiles.
  • Revenant fires its main fusion lance, destroying half of incoming ordnance. Autoturrets destroy a remaining three. Three magpulse torpedoes score direct hits, disabling the command cruiser's forward deflectors and forcing it to turn and withdraw. Fires twenty five energy torpedoes at the Guerdon to cover its retreat.
  • Two large reinforcement fleets arrive under the command of the Verdict and the Wolf's Head respectively. Mostly fluff, but the composition is primarily cruisers, corvettes, and frigates.
  • Task Force Verdict emerges between the moon and planet off the main Sith armada's flank and opens fire. Common ships include: Avatar cruisers, Valor carriers, Boneshatter frigates, Borrur attack frigates, Nezumi dreadnoughts, Beholder support frigates, Tof light clippers.
  • Task Force Wolf's Head emerges near the Lord of Consecrated Iron's position on the outer edge of the star system. Common ships include: Scythe heavy cruisers, MC42 star cruisers, Quasar Fire carriers, Liberator cruisers, CR-37 carriers, CR-50 frigates, Dirigible corvettes.
  • The Verdict opens communications with the Revenant and Therapy Command, assumes command of Coalition forces in system. Hails the CNS Victator and the Ketyadyr.
  • Two battalions of Kathol Republic Marines land in the capital.
 

Darth Morbus

Guest
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Location: Amid the Emperor's War Fleet in space
Objective: The pain?!
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition, [member="Romi Jade"]​
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And just like that, Morbus felt his mind being assaulted. The pain that passed through his consciousness was excruciating, as though he was being torn apart by thousands of beasts, ripped to shreds and scattered on an open flame. It literally knocked the sense out of the Sith, as his yellow eyes lolled back into his head, his tongue hanging from his gaping mouth. Morbus almost toppled to the floor, were it not for the braced position he had been in. As it was, the Twi'lek started to drool, as he receded into himself, trying to use the sensation of suffering flowing over him to fuel the dark side - he used the pain, absorbed it, opening access to power he rarely used...

Nononononononono, not today, Jedi, not today.

Morbus started to chuckle.

"Oh, I see you," The Sith said in a coarse voice, sweat beading on his large oddly shaped brow, as he regained some semblance of himself. "I see you, my delicious morsel... my, what a beautiful mind you have, so assertive, so aggressive, so caressed by the dark."

The Sith opened his mind, accepting the battering against his thoughts, as he continued to laugh. If this Jedi wanted to test wills, so be it. And now that she was systematically working through his conscious - and perhaps his subconscious - that meant she had entered deeper into his mind than he to hers. Which also meant that the battlefield would be within Morbus' own twisted neurological inner space, since he had let the Jedi right in - and when Morbus was sure his prey was hooked on, bombarding away, tearing shreds from his thoughts and cognitive functions... he slammed the cage closed.

"Welcome to my playground, little light," Morbus cooed, as he struggled to stay awake. He could feel wet on his face. A taste of bitterness on his lips. Blood. "You... you certainly did a number on my mind... something is definitely broken, but I can add that to the rest of the pile in my mind. Luckily I'm far from 'typical' in my thought processes, because it's hard to snap crazy when crazy is already bending to the limit!"

Morbus opened his inner eyes, an astral projection of himself appearing. The pair were certainly sharing an astral space now, with the Jedi having burrowed deeply into her opponent's mind, more so than he. So now - so long as Morbus could remain conscious - he would likely have the advantage in what was to come...

"You pushed too hard, little light, you pushed against what you thought was a wall of stone... but it was water, waiting, and I let you slip right in. All wet."

The astral world began to morph and twist, becoming a dark wasteland that had but a simple spotlight from above, sourceless, that lit the pair facing one another.

"Fun, fun, fun!"

Morbus reached out, his spindly fingers at odd angles, as he aimed toward the Jedi. Tendrils of shadow, dozens of them, sprayed from his fingers and rushed toward her. They were a projection of his mental attack in response, visually manifest as the pair met on the minds battlefield...
 
Shadow Hand
Top Poster Of Month
[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EInfY-RUvSs[/media]
Allies:

  • [member="Khonsu Amon"]

  • [member="Darth Carnifex"]

  • [member="Kaine Australis"]

  • [member="Braith Achlys"]

  • [member="Aut-X"]

  • [member="Vanessa Vantai"]

  • [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]
Enemies:

  • [member="Gilamar Skirata"]

  • [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"]

  • [member="Coren Starchaser"]

  • [member="Seniya Nehir"]

  • [member="Dagon Perl"]

  • [member="Zark"]

  • [member="Yula Perl"]

  • [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]

  • [member="Cotan Sar'andor"]

  • [member="Dax Fyre"]

  • [member="Romi Jade"]
Location: Blackblade Invasion Site

“Bftattag fta sha a'a'thhutan gaashft'unga', gftu'x un hut nana”

The abominable tongues of the Dimensional Shamblers spoke their otherworldly ramblings into the air, it was a language that couldn’t possibly be comprehended by the living of this reality, yet the very sound of it caused pain both physically and psychologically. Their voices crept through the cracks of one's mental defenses their whispers like honeyed poison, a slow creeping madness. It was hardly noticeable to the ghosts who valiantly fought against the terror from beyond. They shimmered in and out of existence as they swung their corrosive claws. When struck these beasts bled an extremely toxic ichor, a poison that blackened the very earth and twisted everything it touched. Even these spirits weren’t invincible to its corrosive touch, as the Jedi learned quickly of the price of doing visceral battle as some of their number were twisted and mutated by this vile throng. They were a relentless force of hunters yet their movements were odd, different. They often made little to no sense as some watched while others let blows ring in. They used the confusion to dismantle their enemy, the prolonging of battle to dig into their minds and tear the root and stem of their sanity out.

The force around them ebbed and flowed as the ghostly Jedi Master willed the light to his side, its radiance piercing through black storm clouds conjured by the golden scaled Storm King it’s touch was poisonous to the dark, it’s presence a beacon to the Lord of Lies. A long whip snapped colliding with his blade to create a deafening screech as the blades darkness was met with the purest expression of good, the uncountable amount of souls within screamed out. The second whip came from out of nowhere coiling around the great giants form like a constricting snake. It’s very touch burned in a spiritual pain that pierced the thick impervium plating of his battle armor. Pain of the physical world he long lost the capacity to feel even the most grievous wounds getting his face crushed, limbs cut off, the most horrific wounds had little to no effect on a giant who couldn’t feel pain anymore. But the light? It burned into his spiritual being, it struck items infused with the dark and caused them pain, it struck the spirit and created pain on a different level.

A terrifying roar rang out as he thrashed against the lights grip, the chanting outside the command post carried on the air to his own ears. He managed to break its grip long enough to swing Daesumnor down to collide its presently void poisoned blade that broke the snare. The force’s currents ebbed and flowed all around them and his deep rooted connection to it gave him the sight few others had. As part of his slow immersion into his newfound abilities a sort of outer vision gifted him with the ability to see the world through different eyes, new eyes. They pierced the planes of existence, the veils of reality, illusions, and more but they also gave him sight over the currents. Warning. The surge of light came like a tidal wave as the ghostly druids chanted with passion and fervor. The earth around the command post and its token force left while the Highlord Osbasid and his staff encroached upon the city shook. Now with little choice he unleashed a pulse, an ironclad call through the rifts into the Mist-Beyond.

Something answered.

A group of four Elder Things moved through the shimmering portals before the eruption. They were a group of beings that were anthropoid and distinctly octopian in origin through its body, tentacles dropping from its long, bulbous head. Their dark colored scaly, rubbery looking bodies shimmered with an otherworldly sheen. They were beings composed of matter widely different from what was native to this universe, their physicality so malleable that one could speculate that the beings could change shape. A pair of slender black wings protruded from their impressively ten foot, bulky frames. Their arms and legs ending in prodigious claws. But the essence of their shimmering forms and its shifting nature made it impossible to tell whether or not these were their true forms, or whether it was simply how the Jedi’s mind could perceive them to be. A thick darkness willed into existence by these creatures encased each one in a shimmering black orb of void energy that linked each one together.

Boom.

A column of glowing blue light erupted into existence creating a blinding white explosion that erupted through the command post. The light in its most destructive form conjured by the druids caused a rapid chain of explosions that tore through the command post, knocking down fortifications like they were made of paper and indiscriminately killing the soldiers untouched by the void they sought to crush. A blinding light that collided with the rifts in reality, a high pitched hiss came from the collision and the creatures lurking on the other side, shamblers caught between worlds and those inside the wall were utterly obliterated, their bodies dissipating into black smoke, as the rifts were forced shut. The elder things were protected inside their shields of void energy, the blackened shields sparked as streaks of blue energy completely surrounded them.

The Wall of Light struck the Shadow Hand like an avalanche his own hastily conjured shield of darkness cracked like a spider’s web and shattered. The purpose of such an attack was to close the rifts, to destroy the void things but an ulterior purpose came to target his own spirit. The Sith Lord was ripped from, blown out of his host body that fell limp to the ground. A great shadow of a spirit floated in the air except it was wrong. The spirit was already pockmarked with unnatural wounds and profane alterations beyond what a normal spirit of a Sith Lord should appear. The process of his change impacted him on a deep level, a twisted crown of eldritch darkness greater than any ruler of the cosmos seemed to sit atop his head, the Black King of the Void manifest. A defiant roar came as he drew power from the four linked Elder Things into his being set alight by the blue energy. The deaths of so many around him were a boon to the giant.

He feasted on their deaths the soldiers very spirits were ground into fuel and absorbed into his very form, they served in life with unwavering loyalty instilled upon their creation, their service wouldn’t end not even in death. It was death and destruction he reveled in and drew strength from the deaths of so many during the battle that gave him the strength to weather through their storm. In the aftermath of the wall of light came a swirling maelstrom of madness, a storm of insanity. “You dare?! You misunderstand young Jedi, I AM Death. I am the Final Moment made manifest. I replace defiance with death. I understand death on a level you couldn’t possibly comprehend, allow me to show you..” The Shadow Hand said as he reached out catching Zark in the storm that rocked all around him, while the Elder Things did battle with the materialized druids. The insanity crashed against the ghosts mind like a flood, the presence of the Lord of Lies that ensnared and held him within it crashing through the man's mental defenses. All were exposed to it but they were also exposed to something else...visions. Final moments of victimized peoples they would feel everything they felt emotionally, feel the physical pain and unimaginable agony of dying.

The skies above a world in crisis were so thick with black smoke it blotted out the sun over the civilized world. A world that was descended upon by the Jen’Lazea, the Dark Horde, the savage horde of graug and other twisted monsters that served the Zambrano Sovereigns. The remorseless butchers had no care, no distinction for soldiers and civilians. A world put to the sword by the Jen’Lazea faced a fate far worse than any standing sith army. Zark could see the hordes of hundreds of thousands climbing into the millions with their vast swaths of war beasts. Row after row of towering Glycon with massive cannons strapped to their backs, thousands upon thousands of these beasts. The very ground shook violently as they fired a non stop barrage of earthshaker artillery shells, violent bombs that could even cause damage to shelters. The shells caused a screaming as they passed through the air. All along the blackened, muddy landscape graug overseers walked their maws pulled into full faced grins while others cackled so hard their faces shook just watching the absolute destruction unfold. Soldier or civilian, innocent or guilty to the graug none of it mattered. Their enemies were crushed, blown apart, burned alive as tall buildings collapsed in ruin. The vision advanced as the horde swept into the millions upon millions war beasts ripping men to shreds while the hulking brutes unleashed devastating projectile weapons of rifles, cannons, repeaters, while others sliced with savage weaponry and tore with claw and tooth. It was violence unleashed in a way that could break even hardened Sith an orgy of violence, carnage incarnate, debauchery unleashed as monsters roamed and the smell of blood was so thick it carried over the stench of death and munitions. It was the sort of smell that clung to one’s clothes, burned the eyes and clung to ones mouth if they breathed in the despicable air. All the while these beasts cheered and roared with glee as they chanted their mantra: War and Death.

The vision shifted.

It was horror of a different flavor entirely but it didn’t make it any less disturbing. It was a carefully planned, calculated form of efficient industrial slaughter orchestrated over Togoria by the Blackblade Guard. Cities were razed to the ground and the only remaining settlements were massive camps of dark iron fences, gun towers, and command spires. It was industrialized slaughter where death became an art form, each death camp killed twenty thousand per day and such camps spanned the globe, labor camps filled with the healthiest of togorians who were fed just eight ounces of nutrients where each laborer was required to finish over a hundred carts per day to earn their food. They wore down to the bone and dropped dead where they worked. Entire fields turned into mass graves as dissidents were assembled and all butchered at once. Barrels of repeater cannons that were used so actively glowed a bright orange threatening to melt. Entire families torn apart and extinguished as an entire species was threatened with total annihilation.

The ravaging of the jedi’s mind was not gentle, the trauma inflicted was compounded by the visions as he ensnared the man in his iron grip. A dark voice pierced the distracted Jedi’s mind as he finally at last found what he was looking for through his fight against the man’s defenses. A location ripped from deep within, the precious location of the Jedi Master’s tether to this world his holocron. “I see you. Your time in this world has come to an end Jedi, your soul will belong to me.”


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Capital City, Skybound
Galvanoth the Genocide…

The Golden Demon flew over the great city belching golden, graviton beams of pure destructive fury that ripped up the earth and obliterated structures. A three pronged path of death passing over the civilized peoples. It’s heads even turned skybound and brought down precious life ships as they attempted to escape it’s destructive fury. It’s desire for destruction compounded with his masters orders and it carefully pick and choose where to direct its fury, ensuring any Sith elements weren’t caught in its path, not that it personally cared. A twinge of danger came from its senses, a missile spotted by one of its heads that darted towards the colossal beast, curiously a being sat atop it. The beast bobbed and weaved between towering structures as it began to spin through the air, lightning exploded in a swirling vortex that struck all around it from the very earth, to strafing starfighters, and it attempted to do this to stop the missile from striking, if the man’s crusade managed to pass through such a storm? Well.

It would try to end him like all the others.
 
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Allies:
  • [member="Darth Prazutis"]
  • [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]
  • [member="Braith Achlys"]
Enemies:
  • [member="Coren Starchaser"]
  • [member="Cotan Sar'andor"]
  • [member="Yula Perl"]
  • [member="Dax Fyre"]
  • [member="Zark"]
  • [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]
Location: Somewhere on the outskirts of the Pantoran Capital City

Adramelech blasted another smog-cloud of noxious fumes across the ground, a stray ember combusting the gaseous haze into a firestorm of hate and rage. A dilapidated ruin provided a suitable perch for Adramelech to clutch with his talons, crouching as his master surveyed the destruction he had wrought. Though the flames burned high and bright, he could spot out the individual figures moving amidst the conflagration with great clarity. On yonder he could see the Jedi Master Starchaser and the young knight who had so foolishly challenged him on Coruscant during Operation Eclipse, one who had yet to suffer for his transgressions that day.

Urging his monster onward, Adramelech took to the sky again with a great gust from his mighty wings. High he rose above the blaze, in clear view of everyone in proximity. Then he began to swoop down over the land like he had done before, his mouth again open to let loose a torrent of putridity. Yet, at the last second, the monstrous beast closed his mouth and tilted his body to the left. Carnifex willingly leapt from the saddle, landing amidst the flames of his own creation as his draconic mount again flew away into the air.

Initially weaponless, the Sith Emperor gestured towards the flames, beckoning them to heed his call as his hands pulled and groped at the empty air. The flames responded, snaking like living creatures through the air until they swirled and kissed his armored appendages. Fire raced along his body, coating him from head to toe with meter tall flames that spat and hissed with terrible ferocity. Yet none burned him, his armor did not blacken nor charr, and the cape at his back remained unmolested.

The element of fire was his to command, and it would obey his will.

Coalescing the flames in his open palm, the Emperor conjured a prayer spoken in the most depraved tongues of the ancient Sith Lords. The flame writhed as if in agony, shifting from a healthy orange to a dark and foreboding cobalt tinged with darkness. Looking to where the duo of Coren and Cotan stood, the Emperor unleashed a great gout of blackened blue flame at both of them from his outstretched hands
 

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