Invasion Rage Awakened (TSE Invasion of NIO Held Bastion & PL-40112-CE-021105)

[Hans Rennagen]

Objective II
Allies: NIO | Detritus Ren | Agrrur'arr
Enemies: TSE | CIS | Xeykard
They need you buried deep

His concern for the Knight-Commander was warranted, but it did none of them good. If she had fallen, as he believed, then she had done her duty. Even though her final words were cut short, he understood her final message. Bastion Stands.

“Stay close together, do not let them separate us. We will not die for the empire, we will live for it!" he yelled in solidarity with his brothers-in-arms. The fighting styles of the Imperial Knights relied on teamwork and unity, and it had been under circumstances like these that the first Imperial Knights of the Fel Empire had become legendary.

Yet, it was not solely for that reason which Hans urged the Knights to stay close. The battle against The Shaper on Dantooine had been permanently seared into his mind. He felt responsible for Jin’s mutilation at the hands of the Sith Lord, for not being able to stop his friend from charging passionately through the fires

However unlikely it seemed now, these knights would live to see the Sith repulsed. And if Bastion fell, even though it would bring great shame to the New Order, they would live to take it back another day.

"We must stand! Victory or Death awaits us all... We must hold out till Master Fel arrives!!" He said the grave importance and conviction evident in his tone as he kept trying with all his might, to reduce the horde of the Sith to nothing but dead hunks of flesh.

“Master Fel has yet to let us down.” he replied as Jin echoed the words of their slain superior. More legionnaires came charging from the dark tunnel that Hans faced, their blasters firing rapidly, though not accurately. They were just as desperate to break this position as the Knights were to hold it.

Hans held his saber high as if he was going to strike down upon an enemy, though when he reached the apex of his arc the blade released from his hand and flew towards the legionnaires. They were helpless to stop the careening blade, which carved through those who couldn’t duck or move from its path. The saber hit a wall and deactivated, falling into the darkness, though Hans could still sense his weapon. Reaching out into the darkness, he pulled the hilt back into his hand and reignited the saber.

The darkness of the tunnel was still for a few moments. No more Sith poured from the darkness, and he could see no more lights further down. Moments before Hans turned his attention to the other tunnels, a sharp feeling of hate and anger overcame his senses. Something much stronger than the acolytes who had assaulted them before was on its way.

In the blink of an eye the beast was upon them. A foot taller and twice as large in build as Hans, wielding a lightsaber fittingly proportional to his size. The Inquisitor’s arrival scattered the knights sending Hans to the edge of the rotunda, against the wall. His immediate thought was awe of the size of the beast. He recognized it as a Barabel, if not only for the fact that he knew them to be victims of the Bryn’adul much like his own people.

"WHO AMONG YOU IS FIRST?"

The Barabel bellowed its challenge. Jin, the brash young man that he was, accepted with courage. With his back against the wall, Hans deactivated his saber and fumbled to clip it to his belt before ultimately just dropping it to the floor. He drew his DC/04 as quickly as he could and unloaded it into the monster’s back. They seemed to have no effect, so he turned the rest of his clip onto the remaining enemy soldiers.

If the force favoured them, he might have turned the lizard’s attention towards him, and Jin would strike true...

 

[Moff Drybis Lyken]

Location: HMIS "The Wrath" (Marr-class Star Destroyer)
Objective III: Space Superiority
Allies: Seela Leini Thaelius Onrai Grand Moff Aut-X
Enemies: Savoh Muska Var Koon Scourge Harz Naier Rambeigh Fiolette Fortan Gordon Gallius Orcana Dracken Pryce
Engaging: Naier Rambeigh

Spoiler

Flagship:

-HMIS "The Wrath" (Marr-class Star Destroyer)

Other Forces:

-"The Black Bishop" (Baras-class Star Destroyer) (Slightly damaged)
-"Death's Door" (Baras-class Star Destroyer) (Destroyed)
-2x Tammar-class Corvettes (Slightly damaged)
- "The Reaper", Audax Class Cruiser
-Helix Squadron, 8x Caedus-class Superiority Fighter
-Obsidian Squadron, 6x Caldoth-class Bomber
-Ember Squadron, 6x Caedus-class Superiority Fighter, 2x Sith-Imperial TIE Interceptor
-Shadow Squadron (Moff Lyken's personal fighter squadron), 5x Rogue-class Starfighter
-20x Scorpio-class Sith-Imperial Droid Starfighter, in Reserve

"Colonel!"

"Yes sir, what is it".

"I see what they're doing, typical ha!". " Var Koon 's tactics taken today mean nothing, but comparing them to his past victories & defeats mean much more".

"Sir?"

He turned to explain to the Duros Colonel. "What I mean is that he is showing his hand, like a game of Sabacc". "See Colonel", said Lyken as he pointed outward, "He's using his corvettes & fighters to bait us in, but we wont bite". "My assumptions were correct and so far I've played this right".

Ensign Akura spoke to alert the Moff, "Sir, Sir!"

"Yes Ensign?"

"An Imperial Ship has broken through our lines and is on collision course with one of Vantai's battlecruisers".

"Interesting and somewhat clumsy, a lone wolf has strayed from the pack, pull up the file on the commanding officer once you've identified the ship Ensign"

"Yes sir".


He placed his hand upon his goatee beard mounted on his chin, "Hmmm, this battle is starting to get stranger and stranger, but yet more exciting", said the Moff as he mumbled to himself.


The Ensign quickly zoomed through the Naval Files, after, these Imperials used to serve in the Sith Empire, and all information on their ships & commanders were still stored in secure files within Sith-Imperial Intelligence. Being a Moff, he had clearance to access it when needed.

"Sir, the ship is the NIV "PRIDE OF THE EMPEROR", a Cuirassier-class Cruiser, commanded by Gallius Orcana ".

"Orcana, I know that name, from Sullust, many years ago I believe". "Not the smartest Officer, and not the most practical either". "What is he doing!?"

"Typical Imperials looking for glory, can't he see his fellows are not advancing and still forming their line in orbit, Koon will not risk saving one ship, this man must be blind". "These New Imperials don't even had a strict battle plan together, pathetic".

"Alert the Battlecruiser on its collision course, hopefully they have enough time to avert a head on collision and the ship only leaves a scratch upon it".

"Sir, that Imperial ship has jammed their comms with radio transmission flooding, but I switched to Frequency 29, which the New Imperials don't have, so they can't jam us or flood our channels if we exclusively use that".

"Excellent work Colonel, alert all ships in the fleet to switch to Frequency 29 and the Imperials will lose that advantage".

One of the bridge officers, once Drybis's comrade, Captain Threcki, walked up to the Moff.

"Moff Lyken", said Threcki as he half heartedly saluted.

"Captain Threcki". The Moff saluted dismissively.

"Sir, Commander Arandis is still advancing forward toward their line, without cover or support, she'll be torn apart!"

"She will finish her objectives as commanded, Captain".

"Sir, Drybis...please...call her back".

Drybis shouldn't have listened to him, he didn't want to, but the real reason that he was that Arandis was a good and loyal officer, and those were of short supply these days. His rage & passion would consume him sometimes, but it would subvertly subside.

"Fine, Colonel give the Commander the order to fall back to my center line"

"Yes sir, will be done".

Before him the battle was commencing. Fighter squadrons engaged with each other all around especially in the middle of the battle, where there were fewer ships. Drybis held his main fleet back in a long straight line with his ship in the center and the other ships lined up on either side. The "Gorgon" was advancing, but slowly as it had broken away from the fleet's center line and was unloading its cannons into the enemy fleet with precision. Its battlecruisers were still in tow and most have drifted to engage other parts of the New Imperial Fleet. After all, she did have the bigger ships and better guns. He didn't need to worry about the "Gorgon" and its fleet. Soon after, the Tammar-class Corvettes had survived and returned to the fleet, and Helix squadron had returned as well.


"Helix Squadron report in".

"Moff Lyken, objective completed, we've returned the Corvettes, they only received token damage sir".

Very good Group Captain, await further orders, for now destroy any enemy fighters that gets within range of "the Wrath".

"Yes sir, we're on it".

"I just know it, these New Imperials will break in short order". Drybis knew that even though the enemy had more overall ships, he was confident that they could pull through a swift and glorious victory. If everyone followed their orders and Vantai's fleet proved as effective as they were at Dantooine, than victory would be all but assured.

"Colonel, order Obsidian Squadron to launch and await my orders"

"Yes sir, and sir, an Imperial fleet led by Naier Rambeigh has entered sector C3 and is the closest out of the New Imperial forces to being in range of our fleet".

"Hmmm, very well, we will engage him and his forces and the fleet will simultaneously begin its overall assault and crush these bastards".

"Colonel is "the Reaper" still on route?"

"Yes sir, nearly here".

"Well Commodore Rheardon has taken too long, where was he all this time beforehand, like Mustafar?"

"Not sure Moff Lyken, but he is nearly here"

"Acckkhh", he spat out in frustration.

He looked and turned to Grand Moff Aut-X.

"Sir, Grand Moff, would be you be interested taking command this day". "Only if you want to, of course".

Before the Grand Moff answered, Drybis thought to himself, "Where are you Rheardon, hurry up".

And just as Drybis finished that thought, a ship appeared on the scopes to about to be emerging from Hyperspace.

"ZROOM"

"Sir, its the..."

"Yes Colonel, I see it, its "The Reaper", and about bloody time".

Pressing the comm once again. "All ships under my command, begin slow advance towards Bastion, stay alert to my orders and follow through with your objectives as I instruct".

With the slow movement of his forces, they began to creep forwards, toward Bastion and the New Imperial Navy.



Theme: The Abyss Surrounds

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

Allies: NIO | Var Koon | Savoh Muska | Naier Rambeigh | Len Vert | Scourge Harz
Enemies: TSE | CIS | Moff Drybis Lyken | Onrai | Thaelius

​

The Rae Sloane lurked in the field of battle, Fiolette watched as the Sith Eternal conducted their battle plan. She'd seen familiar formations from their side before, granted they were usually tighter - cleaner. This? This was the opposite of that, or at least so she noticed. The New Imperials had spouted their cheers, their rousing speeches she along with them gave them the same. Var Koon had activated the interdiction field, leaving Fortan and the Sloane alone from any other Primo Victorian assets. "Activate the Blackout System," ordered Fortan as she quietly watched from the bridge.​

​

The Blackout System was designed to hinder enemy sensors and targeting computers, it was capable of blocking and absorbing long-range sensors. The scrambler enabled the Sloane to hide its signature, there was also the option to disrupt communications. It would be a double-edged sword however as it disrupted communications for both sides, friend and foe. Fiolette stepped down from the bridge to activate the Blackout's configuration. Communication would be disrupted on a planetary scale, enemy sensors and targeting computers would also be hindered. ​

​

The unique battlecruiser lingered not far from Var Koon's ships, an invisible wave pushed through the region sweeping across the system. The Sloane's weapons powered down, shields remained online, engines turned to nothing but a whisper as the power hog that was Blackout kicked online. Background static would fill the opposing sensors, scrambler would hide or disguise the Sloane's signature. To do or die, for Imperial might. ​

​

 

[Crane Baxa]

It had been several minutes till he was able to get out of the main morgue area. Wandering up the steps, he felt rather exposed though the hot air soon brought his temperature up. As he progressed up the stairs, he heard a soft alarm constantly going off, not understanding what was going on till he got into a small lobby like area, enclosed by walls as a soft pale red glow was lighting the room. Was this emergency power? Going over towards a nearby terminal, he would tap the keyboard a few times till it went online. Reading it out loud, he noticed his voice boomed a bit and did not have the squeaky manner anymore.

"Warning, invasion has commenced. Everyone go to their respective shelters, this is not a drill."

Leaning back up, he looked left and right as he noticed he was quite...alone. Giving a bit of a smirk, he looked left and right for a moment before tapping onto the terminal as he started to crack into the main database with relative ease. Even though the Force did not allow him so much as an ounce of help anymore, he was quite knowledgeable about these computer systems, though he had to backspace a lot due to not being used to a full set of fingers. Tapping print, a small keycard would be popped out along with the desks being opened up as it displayed some credits in the drawer and a datapad. Swiping the card over it for a moment, tapping the right side very quickly and tapping a few numbers, he was in as he grabbed a nearby doctors coat and flung it around his body to at least...have some cover for his somewhat exposed body. Flipping through the settings, he noticed a music section as he blinked a bit, flipping through till he saw an oldie but a goodie. Turning it on and turning it up, he would slip on some nearby loafers and slide down the hallway.


Crane danced as if no one could watch him, sliding through the hallways while grabbing different instruments on nearby carts. Tapping on sides of the wall, being rather loud as he could before tossing them into a nearby room as there was a loud clatter like noise. Getting to a crossroad of the hallway, the Chagrian would spin on place before moving to the left and opening up part of his doctors outfit as he got really into the groove of the music. Swaying left and right, he would give a hard kick onto a nearby cart as it toppled over with a loud crash. In an invasion, there was no rules and damage meant nothing! He had the run of the place, and nothing can change that! At least...until a few moments later.

There was a loud shattering noise, the sounds of five blasters going off at once in a single cresendo. There was a loud bark as he heard a scuffling of feet and then another blaster shot, then a sudden drop. Someone spoke loudly as he could barely hear it, Crane resorting to his old ways as he walked with almost near perfect silence from this days as being a thief. The datapad would keep on playing but it started to go quiet, the song ending as he heard the noises from inside.

"That should be all of them. Compnor will be pleased."

The Chagrian would slowly go up against a nearby wall from where he heard the noise and start to shuffle from the side, letting his right eye peer into the room. He counted five men in armor, one in officers uniform as they had their weapons drawn against...that is when he felt the lump in his throat go up. There was a row of bodies against the wall, as if stacked onto each other like ragdolls but each one with blaster holes seared through the chest as he noticed...no, he did not want to notice the others. Pulling back against the wall carefully, he breathed in silently and tried to compose his thoughts...what was he supposed to do? Why did they massacre those people? Who were they targe- then the datapad went onto the next song, loudly as it could.

"What the kriff is that horrible music?! You, go investigate it! Blasters trained!"

Cranes eyes might as well been saucer plates, he had to think on his feet quickly as he detached the datapad from the loop on his coat. Waiting for the person to come out onto the side, one of the armored soldiers, he used the Force and with all his might, tossed the datapad straight into the helmet. Saying there was a loud and hilarious clonk would be an understatement as there was a loud cry as Crane pulled from the side when he fell the blaster pistol on his side and shot twice right at the dome as there was a screech in the room.

"Contact!"

Then there was just a shower of blaster bolts as the music just kept on playing, so much to the point he was positive one of those blaster bolts later smashed into it just so it would end. Arcing the blaster pistol around, barely having a good grip on it, he fired into the room blindly as he was responded with another flurry of blaster bolts. Apparently this was not a good idea as he was pinned down, he had nothing he could use to assist him except the Forc-then Crane felt rather dumb. He just been reborn, the Force should still be strong with him again.

Rounding the corner, he focused with the Force and thrust his right hand forward as sparks of electricity erupted from his hand. It was extremely wild as several things in the room got electrocuted and blaster bolts shot from every which way, there was a loud and unimaginable screeches of pain before finally, it just ended and all of them fell onto the ground. While some tried to move, groaning a bit in constant pain, Crane moved quickly to shoot into each head of the armored troopers as he left the officer alive, kicking him over and shooting away the blaster pistol near the officers hand.

"Talk, why are these people dead?"
"Same reason why you alien scu-"

A blaster bolt rang out from the room as the officer screamed as he spoke out louder than the other, having shot right at his kneecap and there was now a gaping hole in it.

"Second time before I shoot below the belt, why are these people dead!"
"They were powerful that is why! The Sith Empire had these people as advisors to Bastion, planetary officials! We were told to execute all families that remained! We cannot allow them to regain control of the pla-"

Another blaster bolt rang out as the officers head ceased to exist. The Chagrian heard enough, this was not a way to conduct war, more or less do business. Lowering the blaster pistol, he tossed it to the side and rubbed both hands onto his temple. Reinforcements will soon check in on them, more will be coming. That meant he had to be scarce...and quick. Noticing something he missed before, he was in a laundry room as he looked around and started to grab any form of clothing from nearby. Strangely, there was a set of robes that adorned him quite nicely as he snuggly put them on, wondering if any of those in front were their regal robes.

"I am sorry...but right now, I need these more than you need them."

Then he heard a sneeze which put the Chagrian completely on edge and turned towards the noise, his right hand raised up. There was a small silence in the room, a quiet breath he could hear if he focused on it. It came from a nearby hamper as he slowly walked on over to it and tapped on top of it as he felt it was rather...hard. Throwing off the top clothing, he saw a young girl in the hamper as she held a small scapel right at him as she kept it pointed. This was a human girl, black hair with green eyes, tears in her eyes and was scared. Crane could emotionally feel her fear as he held up both of his hands rather quickly, looking down at her but did not say a word, not knowing exactly what to say.

The girl would slowly stand up and look around the room, noticing the carnage before them and looking on over to the wall, her eyes would widen and there was a distinct clatter onto the floor. Then...there was a blood curtling scream that echoed through the room, the Chagrian going in front of her and grabbing onto her very tightly, lifting her out of the hamper and moving quickly out of the room. Keeping her head pressed against his chest, he could feel her tears soaking into his robes and her incoherent screaming, her sobbing to almost pierce his ears as he spoke out, walking quickly towards a room that held his equipment when they pronounced him supposedly dead.

"Don't look...just...don't look."

That was all the Chagrian could pray for...as now the hospital was not so empty...and before him, he walked through many rooms as there was more dead, that he ever wished to see in his lifetime, and not the way it was done...and no child, should ever see.

 

[Darth Daiara]

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

Spoiler: The Story

PRELUDE
Before the Second Bastionfall....

「A PATTERN HERE I NEED TO SEE」​

A Sith turned from the dark is a life saved and an enemy defeated. Jedi by circumstance, altruist by choice, Zaavik felt it was his duty to preserve life. No matter how vain or risky the effort, he would do what he believed he must. Should it be the death of him, at least he died on his feet with good in his heart and soul. The prospect did not frighten him as much as it once had.

How could nothingness possibly be worse than this?

The Shadow skulked across the hangar, making a beeline towards a fighter vessel. The ladder to the cockpit clanked under his footfalls, ascending closer with every step. A voice called out from behind him, resonating off the walls of the empty hangar and into his ears, causing him to freeze.

"Zaavik!?" The voice of Ryv was unmistakable. "You missed the brief, I- What are you doing?"

Zaavik sighed. Busted. "Leaving," he replied plainly, taking another step on the ladder.

"Cold feet, huh? Cmon, let's talk about this, no need to go deserting us."

"No, it's not that. I uh-" Zaavik dropped off the ladder, boots smacking into the durasteel flooring beneath. A turn was made to face Ryv, a few steps forward made to meet him. "There's something I gotta do. I don't really know how, or why, but I can feel it. The Force is pulling me somewhere, the call is-" He paused, looking down to the floor with an odd camber to his lips before looking back up to his fellow Jedi. "It's really loud, Ryv. I can't ignore it."

The Sword of the Jedi made a face, placing a hand on his hip with an inquistive raise of his brow. "Something, huh?" His tone was laden with more curiosity than doubt. "What's this something, then?"

"Saving a life."

No deception emanated from Zaavik to Ryv's empathic sense. The Kiffar let out a breath and smirked slightly. "Fine, I'll cover for you. Just don't get in over your head, okay?"

"When do I ever?"

Ryv blinked in silence, a blank stare regarding the Zeltron with disbelief.

Zaavik smirked, chuckling at his own joke. "I'll be fine," he insisted, hastily climbing back up the ladder and climbing into the cockpit. Certainty in his statement was a facade, for the Knight truly didn't know what to expect. A certain dread was hidden behind the pull the Force assaulted him with. It was better not to dwell on those feelings, anyhow. "Thanks," he offered as he slid the pilot's helmet over his head and looked down to Ryv.

The Kiffar nodded in silence, arms moving to cross over his chest. Engined blared as the vessel started up. Artificial winds danced wildly in all directions as the fighter slowly raised from the floor before tearing forward through the atmospheric shield of the hanger. Zaavik disappeared as a spec against the endless void of space.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」
​

"No entry, Jedi." A Togrutan Imperial Knight rebuked Zaavik's request with clear contempt. This entrance to the Redoubt was guarded only by the Knight and an accompanying Stormtrooper. Other forces were scrambling to prep defenses and take positions, leaving the actual present security rather lacking.

"Listen, man, I'm on your side, I'm just trying to-"

"We said no entry," the Stormtrooper helmet vocoder distorted voice doubled down with his Imperial Knight comrade.

"You forget, we are only allies against the Sith. You are not entitled to our facilities, we are not friends."

Zaavik threw his hands up halfway and sighed with feigned defeat. "Yeah, whatever," he replied with a facade of concession. He took a step backward, turned his back half to them, and pulled out his commlink, pretending to make a call. Both guards eased up, thinking the Shadow had given up. Cybernetic hand brought the comm up to his lips as his other hand made a sneaky wave at his side, index and little finger flicking up and down.

"You will let me into the redoubt," he spoke firmly.

The Stormtrooper's posture went slack. "I will let him into the Redoubt."

"What?"

The guard turned and tapped at the door control, punching in a code that caused the massive door panels to begin to slide open with a loud groaning.

"'The hell are you doing?"

Zaavik crept up alongside the Trooper and quickly reached forward to switch his blaster to stun. "Blast him," he commanded calmly.

A hiss of white plasma erupted from the Imperial Knight's saber hilt as the realization took over. The first shot was parried, the magnetic containment field of the saber sending it flying wildly into the air. The second shot found purchase, slipping past the saber and slamming into the Knight's gut, sending him crumpling to the ground unconscious. The effectiveness of New Imperial Troopers proving once again capable of overcoming the lightsaber.

Zaavik scoffed smugly. "Veina," queen, he quipped as he looked down at the Togruta. The Jedi offered a congratulatory pat on the shoulder, the metal of his prosthetic clattering against plastoid shoulder pauldrons. "Good job. Take a nap, huh? You've earned it."

"You got it, boss!" The Stormtroopers knees gave as he folded to the floor. Armor clacked and clamored against itself, followed by the hollow thud of helmet onto concrete. Snoring echoed inside the hollow shell, vocoding outward as a digitized static. A long step over the two unconscious guards heralded his waltz through the foyer of the Redoubt.

Corellian Coin rolled around between his fingers. Ethereal screams, wails, and other horrible sounds of the past echoed through the halls, courtesy of the coin's imprint. It was nothing short of gutwrenching, but he had no choice other than to endure. The echoes and visions carved a clairvoyant path toward his intent, a macabre road for his likely vain quest.

Staircase, corridor, left turn, corridor, right turn, stairs again. The former Sith Academy had looked big, but on the inside, the scale was even more impressive. Remnants of Sith iconography still lingered, the efforts to chip them away in favor of the Imperial Codex still ongoing. It was no wonder it had taken so long, he'd felt as if he'd walked miles already.

Every new scream he heard, every new cry, every new spatter of blood he saw evoked a unique grimace all their own. He'd heard about it, but the first-hand recollections were a lot worse than he thought. Zaavik was still in a coma when this all went down. He wouldn't have ever imagined the ordeal to be this horrific. Yet, somehow, it didn't feel wrong.

Another corridor, this time the coin granted him the sound of laughter. A familiar voice that reverberated from father ahead, echoing in a repetitive rhythm further and further down the hallway. Pace increased, pointed boots slogging against the tiles with their own impactful reiteration off the hard interior walls.

Disfigured digits lightly caressed a durasteel door. Eyelids closed, opposite hand clenching the coin as he focused internally. In the back of his mind's eye, red-hued locks danced against momentum through the threshold. The coin was practically humming, a subtle vibration buzzing in the center of his palm.

This was it.

Fingers slid down to the door control. A pulse through the force willed the mechanisms to clear, forcing the door to hiss open and click at the apex of it coming ajar. Slowly he walked forward, what was once a significant space had been reduced to a linen closet. Towels, vestments, rags, curtains, and the like. It could have been much worse, they had to store the dismantled Sith Iconography somewhere, or at least, whatever they couldn't burn.

Situating himself in the center of the room, Zaavik turned to face the door and dropped slowly to his knees. He sat on his feet and placed the coin in front of him. Both fists retreated to his knees as his eyes closed. A deep breath would slip him into a light meditative trance.

She would be here, he was certain.

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

Aradia had been removed from the front line. The order had been as clear as day, yet when the call for Bastion came to life... She broke her master's orders and answered. Kaalia would never understand.

She had to be there.



Her footsteps echoed through the familiar hall, goosebumps prickling over her skin. The siege of Bastion rang on beyond these now insignificant walls, but she did not yet join. Something drew her forward-- an intangible string pulling tight at her chest.

No one had survived the Imperial's attack. She knew that. Yet every corner she turned, her eyes searched, almost desperate for a lock of blonde hair-- a familiar dimple. Someone. Anyone.

Bastion Academy had been purged.

Tula had not survived.

She stopped short at juncture, a Fel tapestry hanging where an Empire one had once resided. She could see its faint outline, the dirt stain refusing to let the past fade. She let out a pained hiss. Fire erupted across the imperial symbol. She walked onwards, her once timid steps gaining intention.

Did they really think they could erase her with no consequence?

Ideas bubbled forward, smothering the pinching that built in her tear ducts. She had been in enough wars to know that pure brute would not win this school back alone. She had to--

She stopped short, a familiar set of doors appearing before her. In her brooding, she had not paid attention to where her feet had taken her. The path had been instinctual. Habit. She swallowed hard, the pinching in her tear ducts redoubling as she stared at her old dorm door.

Her hand raised before her, moving as if it were in a dream as it entered the old code.

The doors swished open.

Cold shock bit through her like poison.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」
​

Visions of hatred and desperation flooded over his mind in dreamlike watercolors as he meditated. Pain echoed from the coin in front of him, he could feel it like it was his own. The screaming was loud enough to hurt his ears. Gurgling in the throat, he couldn't breathe. Something tightened his grip, not letting him leave this meditative state. Blood, the blood was everywhere, a growing pool of ichor crimson.

She died here. Through her own eyes, he could only watch.

The hissing of a door jolted him from his meditation at the very moment she'd slipped away in the vision. An invisible smog of force energy flooded the tension laden atmosphere as their eyes met. Alive and well despite what he'd seen, there she was. Zaavik gasped in both shock and vital need, he could not breathe during that forced recollection. The weight of the force around them proved too much for the old Corellian Token. Metal cracked, small grains of shrapnel bouncing off the floor with a high pitch ding. The half-sundered coin flipped into the air from the ground.

Zaavik's hand flung forward, fumbling around with the coin for a brief moment before snatching it from the air. His other hand raised slowly, fingers extended and palm facing out pacifistically. With one fluid motion he stood up slowly from his knees, his feet planting firmly against the ground. Token deposited into his jacket pocket, and then the same hand mimicked the non-aggressive gesture of the other.

"Relax," he implored softly. "I'm not to here to hurt you or anything, I just want to talk, that's all." Either hand dropped to his side once he felt he'd made his intentions clear. "I know you must be feeling a lot right now," he began, trying to take the empathy approach. He couldn't help but immediately the second guess whether or not that was the right approach. He made a face, shaking his head to himself. "Look, fuck it, whatever, just hear me out, okay?" A turbolaser smacking into Ravelin in the near-distance shook the Fel Redoubt. "While we still have the opportunity?"

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

How.

Her eyes screamed the question as the coin flipped through the air. It hit flesh, the noise muted but resounding as he caught and pocketed it. "You," she breathed, meeting his gaze.

Feeling a lot? That was one way to to put it. She stumbled a step back, at first expecting another attack. It was the shock alone that stopped her from drawing her saber, though the hatred she possessed for her growing arch enemy flared in her nostrils.

"Are you stalking me?" She accused, flabbergastion next to follow. He was in her old room. And it-- Her attention tore to its dusty shelves, pain lashing through her-- it had been reduced to nothing more than a linen closet. Her fury turned back on him. She raised her hand, her fingers clenched. A pulse of the force slammed into him. She stepped in, the door closing behind her as she bore him down.

"What. Are you doing. In my room?" She demanded. A telekinetic grip started to clench down on his throat.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」
​

The Jedi's head crept backward forcefully as the invisible grip tightened incorporeal fingers around his throat. Facial features twitched initially, but his resolve steeled and his regard remained covered by a convincing illusion of being unphased. "Ma'am, this is a linen closet," his wispy, air deprived vocalizations managed to quip in facetious contrary through the invisible restraint. Probably not a good time for jokes, the little voice of reason in his head scolded. A real shame too, as his wit had just formulated a pun involving 'breathtaking'.

"The coin," he explained. "I followed what it offered." A small cough rasped out of his airway. His hand slowly crept down to the saber on his belt, hovering over it with a twitching finger. "I told you, I'm just here to talk. I've seen what happened here, it showed me." His eyes narrowed as he drew a large breath laboriously through her attempt as suffocation, only causing the grip to grow tighter.

"Let me go," he rasped dryly. "I told you, you're not in any danger," yet "I'm not here to hurt you," unless I have to. It was always the omitted bits that were the most important. A universal rule between Jedi and Sith. There never had been any such thing as total honesty, and especially not between the faces of the Force's spiritual coin. A gulp struggled down his throat. "I don't blame you if you don't trust me, but I've let you go twice, haven't I?"

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

The quip earned him a rattling, one which his only his talking halted. She seemed to teeter in that moment, a crazied edge to her eyes as the urge to squeeeze rocked her. And there it was again. The hunger. It was growing less frightening, if only cause the Jedi served as something more pressing to mistrust.

"-- I've seen what happened here, it showed me."

Shock rippled over her features. The grip released him. He was left to gasp at the gifted air, the sithling staring skeptically at his cornered form. "What could you possibly have to say to me?" She uttered, distaste coating every word.

He was the enemy. His kind murdered her kind relentlessly. Everything she had known, they had stolen from her grasp. She was a kid, nearly purged for religious wars and deeds that were not her own. And he owned it.

They bore each other's scars. They were two sides of that same coin and they could never be made to see eye to eye. That was not how physics worked. The mention of what he had seen left her needing to know more. For a moment, she'd bite.

"You have thirty seconds."

Her saber jumped into her palm, the blue hue lighting up the room. Jedi. It was an embarrassing punishment in response to the saber he had taken from her. Wouldn't it be appropriate if she killed him with it in turn? She pointed it at his chest.

"No jedi tricks."

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「FIVE SECONDS」​

A quiet, stifled gasp quietly compensated for the lack of air in his lungs. Chest and shoulders rose with each subsequent breath in an exaggerated fashion. "Foitan banas," fuck's sake, he bleated as he rubbed his throat with his right hand.

Five seconds had passed.

"Thirty seconds?" Zaavik scoffed, upper lip curling with vexation. "This is gonna take a lot longer than thirty seconds, you're just gonna have to deal with that."

Five more seconds passed.

He sighed. No preparations as to what he was going to say had been made prior. This entire endeavor had been spontaneous, and he was playing it by ear for better or worse. "No tricks," he reassured begrudgingly. He showed his hands, turning them once over and them back, keeping them where she could see them. "You're torn up about what happened here, it doesn't take an empath to figure it out. I get it, I really do. I've been there too, believe it or not. Not just losing everyone, but to death's door as well."

Five seconds left.

"The residual echoes gave me a vision; I saw you die here, in the courtyard, nearly drowning in your own blood. I don't know how you're still here-"

Time's up.

"But I know it wasn't the work of any Sith."

Zaavik had been counting the seconds in his head, he was ready to snap his hand down to his saber if he had to. Yet, still he continued regardless.

"I know you don't want to let anything like that happen again. Not even just to yourself, either. But you're on the wrong path. The Sith do that kind of shit on a planetary scale on a near-constant basis. I can see the good in you, you mean well, but you're misguided."

There was a pause, Zaavik gauging the atmosphere before his next sentiment.

"I came here because I can help you."

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

Her heart pulsed in her ear, the tip of her saber subtly wavering with each internal thump thump thump. That wasn't what she was expecting to hear. Her thoughts raced, her eyes searching for a sign of mockery. The boy was as serious as stone, an earnest edge to him imploration. He saw her. It disarmed her.

Was this an apology?

The saber lowered a centimeter, her chest puffing in distress as he painted a picture of that day. She didn't like to think about her death. She didn't like that he knew about it. Standing before him, she felt vulnerable. Raw.

Confused.

It distracted her from an off set of words, her gaze boring into him-- Hungry for recognition, desperate to feel whole again. Thirty seconds had come and gone, and he still held her attention.

"How?" She asked, her voice tight and mistrusting.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」
​

Getting this far was unexpected. Every expectation was that she'd try to strike him down the moment he finished speaking. At least he was getting somewhere. It was a much better start than he could have realistically hoped for. Though, he was beginning to understand that the closer he got, the thinner the tightrope would get. Unfortunately, he didn't have time for anything other than a full send. Beyond the walls of the redoubt, the battle raged indifferent to this encounter. Every breath taken in silence was time wasted.

"You're in pain. Desperate to scrub a layer of soot from your skin that won't wash away. Hate won't be a solvent, it'll only bring you more suffering. I know what happened was wrong, horrible, but we can do our damndest no make sure nothing like it ever happens again. You don't trust me, I know, and to be honest, I'm not exactly your biggest fan either."

Zaavik slowly offered out his hand. Durasteel-cortosis alloy glittering with a weathered sheen beneath the artificial light overhead.

"But it's my duty to help you. Not just as a Jedi, but as someone who's been exactly where you are. That wound will fester forever, it's not something you can just forget, but you can soothe it. It would be unfair and dishonest to try to convince you otherwise. We can't ever make it right, but we can do right by you. Come with me, leave the Sith behind, open your eyes to a better path. You can make a difference this way, a crusade for vengeance isn't going to save anyone, it's only going to eat you up inside."

"Isn't it already?"

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

He had her. He really did. His words hit feelings she had never been able to give names to. He said it like it was. He validated her, no excuses. No blame on her.

Goosebumps speckled up her arms, a surreal prick of emotions hitting her tear ducts. For a moment, it felt okay. To feel. To hurt. It was horrible. It was wrong! And she deserved to hear it-- she deserved-

"Come with me, leave the Sith behind,--"

Her expression froze, the emotions bleeding from the planes of her face. And that was the exact moment everything he had to say meant diddly chit.

"You're trying to recruit me," she said, a dangerous edge to the emotionless statement. She beheld the cornered jedi, the tight rope he walked held taunt, moments from snapping.

Or maybe it already had.

She left him to sweat it out, her hand clenching on her hilt as she took a single, harmless step towards him. "Why?"

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」​

"Recruit you?" A humorous scoff slipped wryly from between his lips. "Ostensibly, maybe. Though, not even I would be so naive to think I, or anyone for that matter, may make a Jedi out of you." Zaavik smirked briefly, his glare softening in a non-aggressive fashion. "I thought about it, and maybe I'm wrong, but I just don't see it." The offered hand dropped halfway, making room for her approach while also retreating in a paranoid touch-avoidant gesture. Ironic, given the nature of the gesture in the first place.

"I'm sure plenty would've said the same about me, though." Truthfully, he himself was quite possibly the worst excuse for a Jedi he'd ever met. Knighting had felt like a sham, war hero commendation too, he didn't deserve anything. That's why he was trying to earn it now, make a difference. Whether it was the truth or his own twisted perspective on himself changed nothing. What he'd done all the way up to where he stood now couldn't ever be changed. You had to live with these things.

"I just want to help you, like I said. Jedi or otherwise, just not a Sith. The Dark Side is voracious, and it devours you with every passing second. So too, is the hate that you bottle. Mine has already eaten more of my than I can ever hope to get back. I don't want that for anyone. Not even a Sith."

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

A dry laugh caught in her chest, his words earning a near roll of her eyes. "Oh when you put it that way. I'm flattered." She kept approaching, her steps lazy yet pointed as she drove him back. There was no window in this room. There was no escape spare the door at her back. She bounced the saber in her hand, the tip held off to the side.

"You know. For a moment I thought you might actually be decent. But I'm so stupid," she cursed, her head shaking in passionate dismissal. "Such an idiot to think I could actually get understanding out of someone like you. You spout the craziest chit, you know that? As if I'd abandon the people that need me." She pointed the saber his way, its length bouncing haphazardly as she gestured. "The people you want to kill." The blue hue reflected in her eyes, intense as her fury broke free.

"You will never. Speak. Of my pain. Again," she uttered, her voice rasping with righteous indignation. Firey hot tears boiled over, the wounds of her past laid open and bare. It was his fault. For prying. For being a prick. For taking part in the systematic murder of people-- he was no savior. He was no hero. She didn't buy his excuses. She saw him as he was and she held him to it.

"I hate you!"

She descended on him in a flurry, streak of red and blue as she went to deliver a silencing blow across his neck.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「DISCIPLE」​

A grimace materialized over Zaavik's face when the laugh reached his ears. The final thread on the rope had finally broken. Whatever silver he had on that tongue of his clearly hadn't been worth its weight in words this time. Fingers twitched, muscles in his body near-trembling with anticipation of whatever twitch-reaction he'd need to make next to save his skin.

Every opportunity he had to retort was stifled by her continual rebuke. Words had probably outgrown their usefulness now. Cerulean eyes followed the blue droning of saber tip as she whisked it around with the camber of her words. He wasn't listening anymore. She was going to strike, it was clear, all attention reallocated to the secret top priority of this entire endeavor: not dying.


"I hate you!"

Couldn't help but hear that part, though. Visions of the saber's trajectory flooded his middle-consciousness with a pang of danger only split-instant before she began to strike. Eyes widened suddenly, head reeling back along with the bending of knees. Spine and sinew contorted suddenly into a low backward lean, slipping just beneath the would-be deathblow. He snapped back up, snatching his saber on the way up and sending the viridescent blade screaming to life with the distinct hiss that only a lightsaber could make.

A step back sought to put space between them, but his back bumped the wall halfway in. He pointed his saber forward in a defensive gesture and half-shrugged wryly. "Well, welcome the club then, I guess."

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

She screamed in his face, the motion senseless and even wild as he made light of her pain. There was insult in what he had just tried to do. There was pain in the pain he tried to use against her-- pain he was responsible for.

She would not be manipulated. She would hold him accountable.

She felt so foolish.

The room surged with energy, dark and twisted. She jumped up, her head brushing the high stone ceiling. The energy imploded, telekinetic tendrils ripping the shelving off the walls. In her fury, she was stronger. The metal units went tumbling down towards him. She fell after it, her hair flowing around her like a vengeful halo as she came down with an overhead strike.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「DISCIPLE」​

Pupils dilated to a black speck on a cerulean backdrop. Adrenaline coursed along with the force, every muscle revving for their next move. A second hand grasped his saber hilt, thumb sliding over to press the activator to send the second blade erupting from the opposite end. Controlled arcs of verdant light sundered shelf and linen as they careened toward him on either side. Plasma hissed against metal and fabric, leaving a burnt smell in the air expanding from the long, black scars left in the objects.

Zaavik turned his chin up, meeting her snarling rage head-on with a stern look of determination. Blue and green screeched together, one of his blades catching the oncoming strike from overhead. The blade to the opposite cut into the wall behind him as the hilt turned with an accommodating camber. The light from the clashing blades strobed a vibrant cyan.

He pressed forward, kicking his foot off the wall and freeing himself from the clash. His frame spun in a tilted corkscrew, his boots knocking into a ceiling panel and jarring it out of place. He landed on the other side of her with a broken shelf clattering beneath the impact of his feet. Elbows pulled back, and one shoulder reached over to hold the saber alongside him at head-level; Juyo's closest equivalent to a fool's guard.

"We don't have to fight," he declared calmly. Illumination droned and sputtered against his face, melding with the light vermillion to manifest a hazy yellow sheen over his visage. "You know how this is gonna end; the same way it did the last two times." Her shoulder and side were testaments to the iron grip he'd kept on the upper hand between them.

"Just- Unignite the saber. Please. We can talk about this," he implored, ever persistent.

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

"One time," she corrected with a hiss, turning to match her positioning with his dodge. She had no trouble balancing on top of the mess, her movements graceful as she pivoted her footing on the side of the fallen shelves.

The levity of what he had tried to do kept pulsing over her, bringing with it waves of indignation as she broke it apart. He had acted like he understood. And she-- she had wanted to believe-- because he wasn't the only one that had recognized parallels. She had seen his desperation for control on her ship. He didn't trust his people. She could see his scars-- and he--

He played with her.

"Just- Unignite the saber. Please. We can talk about this,"

"Shut up," She snapped. And it was was the last thing he'd have her say, her legs sinking into stance. And then she attacked.

Her blade twisted in arcs through the air, whipping quickly from form to form as she pressed for an opening. It was unrelenting, as smooth as water rushing in to a damn. Where there were cracks, she would press to slip through. He had always had her running, her back to him was his turf. Facing him head on was a different matter. Her size meant nothing when he had to break past her guard.

Her guard was deadly. She was going no where.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「DISCIPLE」​

"Shut up,"

Were it so easy, he thought.

There wasn't any time to keep thinking as arcs of malicious blue struck toward him. His own saber came to meet them, weapon oscillating to parry with either blade one after the other. The sudden rush of offense forced Zaavik back a step as the defensive twirl of verdant plasmatic edges only just managed to bat away the strikes. Another step back. Zaavik felt a tug on his jacket followed by a hiss. A sliver leather and zipper incinerated by a the stray followthrough of a poorly parried attack.

A final step back. His heel caught the door, the rubber sole of his bootheel squeaking down to the floor. Nowhere left to go. A searing pain assaulted the flesh of his tricep near the elbow. Leather hissed as it burned away, a glancing blow turning flesh to black in an instant. He bared his teeth with a vague intonation of pain. Another strike came from the left. Zaavik smacked it away with a wild parry, saber blades popped and sizzled from the impact.

Zaavik used the opening to release one hand from the hit and throw it backward to slap the door control. A reverse step into the newly unobstructed door threshold brought him just beyond the reach of the next strike. Zaavik threw a feint to the right, pulling back at the last moment and shoving both hands forward to send the inert metallic center of his hilt towards the bridge of Aradia's nose.

Aradia jerked, the hilt clipping her temple. Pain blossomed, her vision dancing. She didn't let her guard drop, but it bought him the breathing space to make it through the door and catch his footing.

She hissed, touching her temple and pulling back to find blood. It flowed freely down her forehead, the first drop sliding past her eye. Her attention snapped back onto him, the hit drawing a scowl across her lips.

"All that time Allyson spent away has left you sloppy," she stated softly, seeking a flinch of pain across his expression. Her chest throbbed, aching with the embarrassment his false pity had left her with.

The moment her words registered on his face, she assaulted him with a telekinetic barrage right towards his gut. She followed it in with an Ataru flip out the door, corkscrewing into a weighted slash over his metal arm.

"You're pathetic!" She screamed, her voice raw from the pain that she reflected onto him.

 

[Daeron]

TUNNEL B-1
Detritus Ren Hans Rennagen Agrrur'arr Jaeger Harrsk Elicia Hejaran ​

Prev...

Eventually, Daeron managed to cut through to the Tunnel B-1’s control room. The red hue of emergency lights greeted him. A faint whirring noise could be heard – likely from klaxons nearly burned out from continuously ringing.

Daeron entered and quickly found the controls to the massive bulkhead. The groan of metal could be heard between the rumbling of distance battles. He found the switch to open the bulkhead and placed his hand on it.

He paused.

A blinking yellow light on the console before him drew his attention.

DANGER: SECTOR XESH FLOODING ​

Looking to the door he came through, Daeron saw a sign above it read: SECTOR YIRT

Then looking to the other side, Daeron saw a slightly corroded and bulging door with drops of water at the seams. It would be on the other side of the bulkhead. The sign above this door read: SECTOR XESH

Were Daeron to have opened the bulkhead, a torrential flood of water would have rushed forth. Being below Revelin, it could have been years upon years of rainwater or sewage or anything in between. Maybe even a deliberate way to secure the tunnels from an invading army. It would have definitely caused issues for the Sith forces near Darth Ledgermayne and Xeykard if Daeron just opened the bulkhead.

Tremendous damage to those that invaded Daeron’s homeworld. His hand still on the switch.

Catastrophic ruin to those that enslaved him. At his fingertips.

[…]

Daeron just stepped away from the control console – an army could not pass through Tunnel B-1 as it was at that moment. He began to search the control room for clues on what to do next - perhaps there exist a way to divert the water that flooded Sector Xesh..

 

[Zaavik Perl]

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「ATTITUDE」​

"All that time Allyson spent away has left you sloppy,"​

The soft reluctance in his face shifted to sharp malice almost instantly. A sharp exhale as his nostrils flared, teeth bared from beneath curled lips. He reared back for a strike, biting at the bait almost instantly. Alas, a collection of small, unseen forces slammed into his gut, catching him off guard and extracting a cough that sputtered with a backward stumble. Vision broke into doubles, a wheeze rushing into his lungs. Unconsciousness only narrowly avoided by some unexplained force of will.

A pang of feat nudged at him. Near-breathless he pivoted on his heels to meet her ascent over him. Prosthetic hand snatched forward, cortosis lining trapping the blue plasma with impunity. Arm shook with exertion as he slowly pulled the saber down and to the side like an off-kilter lever. "Veina," queen, he forced through clenched teeth. "Keep that name out of your mouth."

Zaavik's tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. A half step forward added momentum to the forward torque of his shoulders as he sent his forehead recklessly downwards toward the crown of her skull.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: O U T _ O F _ L U C K //:
//: Location //: Tunnels //:
//: Objective //: Survive //:
//: Enemies //: NIO //: GA //: Aaran Tafo //:
//: Allies //: TSE //: CIS //: OPEN //:

"Where is it?" ​

Quinn spoke quietly to herself; she knew arriving on Bastion was a bad idea, but she had no idea it would be this bad. She had been away from the Empire capital for some time. Instead spending it with her sister and in the arms of a traitor. Her nose wrinkled thinking about the way her life had spun on its head. Never had she expected to be where she was: Motherless, without her first Master, and now digging through the old rubble of the first battle. Life wasn't kind to the youngest Varanin, but she had Ashin's drive to defy even fate itself. ​

"Feth, I really ryv'd it this time." Quinn frowned, not really understanding the curse word's source, but it had been something that she had seen on the holonet - so she had to keep up with the others. Standing straight, the young Echani princess dusted off the grime that clung to her knee-length dress, "Disgusting." She mumbled and then wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. It was no use; she could sense it but not see it. "Papa's going to kill me." The last invasion set on Bastion was the last time Quinn had held the former Empress' lightsaber. That same lightsaber allotted her a brief rally against the Jedi that attacked her. ​

Remembering that blonde bimbo made Quinn seeth with frustration. The woman was close to destruction, but then the Imperials decided to slaughter the Sith on their side. Pathetic morons, Quinn thought quietly to herself. Why did they think they would be spared the hand of justice that the Imperials claimed was rightfully theirs? Maybe it was better than the weak were culled the way they had been. ​

Though she was quite fond of her brief Gen'dai friend, he knew Ashin, which made him almost family. Quinn pushed through a few memories as she headed down the tunnels, she was alone for the most part, but sounds were echoing in the distance - which meant she wasn't going to be alone for long. ​

Instinct told her to leave, to retreat back to the Echani ship that was held in port. At least she could return to her traitor's arms and her sister's side. Exhaling softly, she paused, catching a tug through the Force. "Oh?" her words quiet as she moved towards a pile of rubble and began to dig again. "There you are." Quinn's body relaxed, feeling the warmth of the Force the saber emitted. Delicate fingers wrapped gently around the hilt, pulling it from its burial grounds. Joy returned as something so precious was returned to her, and with a flick of her wrist, the saber ignited its brilliant gold hue. ​

The princess' joy as soon cut short as death rang through the Force. Her inherited empathic abilities shook as Quinn clutched her chest tightly, struggling for air. The kill was close, and she had not been protecting herself like she was taught. Taking a few moments, she centered herself and then looked around. Who was down here, slaughtering? Was it a Sith or a Jedi? Her brow furrowed as she took off down the adjacent tunnel way, the ion blade returning to its hilt. ​

Footsteps patted against the stone ground as she turned the corner and watched as a blade ripped through another's neck like a hot blade through butter. Quinn covered her mouth, stopping the bile that built up in her throat from expelling. Not again; she couldn't show this weakness again in battle. ​

Everything that she was taught about the Jedi was obviously wrong - they were monsters, just like the Sith. There was no right side; the only side that mattered was the one that was winning. Cursing under her breath, she regretted venturing outside and even doubting Sylvia's choices. ​

Maybe the girl was right in walking away from it all. "When is it going to stop Jedi? When will you have killed enough to satisfy your blood thirst?!" Quinn shouted, not knowing why she was even interfering. She could have run away, could have just escaped and gone home. Instead, fury burned inside of her. The Imperials were close to Eshan; she had to stop them here before they burned her home down.​

 

[Ryv]

S W O R D _ O F _ T H E _ J E D I
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
Strike Team Skywalker
LIGHTSABER

Aboard the Prosperity...

Bright blues and whites surrounded the New Jedi Order's mobile Praxeum as it charged through hyperspace. It should've been expected. How could the New Jedi Order overlook the possibility of a counterattack following Dantooine? The Sith Empire could never pass up the chance at retribution for what the combined might of the Galactic Alliance and New Imperial Order had done to them all across the Braxant Run. Mygeeto, Muunilist, Dubrillion, and of course, the once-seat of the Sith-Imperial regime itself, Bastion. Pride got the better of the Jedi. They thought Dantooine won. And now, the New Imperials paid the price in blood and bodies.

Ryv turned from the iridescent tunnel and looked to the temple's bridge. Jedi hurried to and fro, preparing for their coming arrival. Excitement hung in the air, though it mixed with the grating sensation of anxiety. How many more lives would be lost in the Sword of the Jedi's gambit to support their allies?

"Master Sunstrider," Ryv called out to the empty space at his side.

From out of thin-air materialized a digital reconstruction of an impressive figure. At six-feet tall, the epicanthix stood an inch taller than Ryv. Though the height difference was negligible, the kiffar found himself awed by the fallen Jedi Master. Arcanus Sunstrider, a man, born beneath a legacy akin to the Skywalker lineage, carved a place for himself in the annals of Jedi history. In life, he served the Jedi Order faithfully. Even in death, though his responsibilities differed, Arcanus still served the light in its eternal struggle against the shadows.

"Yes, Knight Karis?" Arcanus inquired, a nod following the greeting.

Ryv paused, bowing in respect to the Jedi Master. "How long until we reach Bastion?"

"By my calculations, an hour."

"Shit," Ryv turned from the Jedi Master and moved towards the thin layer of transparisteel separating them from the cold-expanse of space. "We're already well overdue, aren't we?"

"That we are, Knight Karis," the fallen Jedi's digital manifestation followed after Ryv. It drifted forward, each step unheard due to the nature of his second chance at life. "From the transmission we received, we know the Sith Empire have already engaged New Imperial forces. We cannot change that, Ryv. Your call to action across the New Jedi Order has directed many of our best to the battle already. The likes of Auteme Denko-Durren, Aaran Tafo, and Zaavik Dagoth are already engaged with the enemy. This battle can still be won. Do not lose hope."

A smile settled on the still-living Jedi Knight's face. "Thank you, Master."

"Do not thank me. The Jedi's purpose is to inspire hope and guide others away from the darkness," Arcanus turned from the glass. "Though I must admit, this plan you've concocted is dangerous, even for you."

Ryv's smile turned into a broad, toothy grin. "You think so?"

"Absolutely," the Master mirrored the Knight's beaming visage. "I do believe it will work. While I cannot say for certain if we'll escape unscathed, with the arrival of the Lord Executor and his forces, the New Jedi Order should be able to break through to the surface and bolster the New Imperials. The only foreseeable concern is the Confederacy's fleet. Under fire from so many ships, even Prosperity may buckle."

"We don't have to worry about the Confederacy," Ryv laughed aloud. "Those damned fools think they're playing both sides. I'm bout to show them how the game is really played. But for now," he pivoted on his heel and moved back to the central terminal displaying a holoprojection of Bastion. "I'll need you to man the defenses once we arrive. Just make sure the temple doesn't go down in flames. If things look dicey, don't be afraid to make the jump and get the hell outta here, alright?"

"Of course, Ryv. I would see myself destroyed before I allow this temple to fall."

"That's why you're the best, Master Sunstrider," Ryv grinned up at the fallen Master before pressing down a big blue button. The temple's intercom would come to life, his voice amplified to the entirety of the praxeum. "This is Ryv. We're an hour out from exiting hyperspace over Bastion. The New Imperial Order is relying on us to help break the Sith Empire's siege. Already, our brothers and sisters have engaged the enemy and are putting their lives on the line. This won't be our first trip to Bastion. We've seen the streets of Ravelin alight with the fires of war. It wasn't a pretty sight the first time, so I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it'll be equally crappy this time. Don't lose heart. We will steal victory from the clutches of defeat; you need only believe in those beside you. The day will be ours."

He stepped away from the terminal, his gaze drawn back to the azure allure of hyperspace. He could feel him out there. Slowly drawing closer to Bastion, prepared to deliver death to the Sith's forces as he'd done many times before.

"I won't let you down, Rurik. I promise."

New Jedi Order: Loske Treicolt | Okkeus Dainlei | Krau Rook | Asmundr Varobalder | Ripley Kühn | Aelys | Auteme | Aaran Tafo | Zaavik Perl
New Imperial Order: Rurik Fel

 

[Onrai]

Space
Allies: Moff Drybis Lyken Thaelius Seela Leini Grand Moff Aut-X
Enemies: Var Koon Savoh Muska Naier Rambeigh Len Vert Scourge Harz Fiolette Fortan Gallius Orcana Dracken Pryce

A command was sent from the Gorgon to the Wrath - orders for the small fleet the Moff had cobbled together to engage Naier Rambeigh 's fleet assets. Immediately afterwards, the communications jamming from the Rae Sloane made itself known - The vessels were now forced to rely on the Sith in the various ships to communicate as the spacewaves were jammed for all parties involved. Sensors from the dreadnought proved unable to target the traitor's battlecruiser - so it was that the ship's pair of ultra-heavy forward guns, whose power equaled the kyber cannon that had once shattered the old Galactic Alliance's dreadnought and left it a carcass on Coruscant, were manually targeted onto the still-visible-in-space battlecruiser, their aim optimized by targeting input from some of the Sith who could sense the lives of the vessel's crew. With a buildup of plasma shining on the forward gun of the warship, twin beams of energy so closely coalesced they appeared as one lanced across the void, aimed at what was, according to the data regarding the vessel's schematics that remained in Sith-Imperial logs from its time as a Sith ship, the vessel's bridge. Other lesser lines of emerald power began to exude from the bow of the warship, joined by long range mass-driver fire.

As this began, false sensor data and other forms of transmissions that were not communications requests, containing the mechu-deru crafted viruses transmitted by the Gorgon, would be received by the various enemy warships. Were any data or transmissions to be received or otherwise accessed by the computers of the ships, viruses would begin to cause issues to the vessels' computers. Beneath the ship, the orbital bombardment cannons readied themselves, targeting Savoh Muska and his Arquitens cruiser before letting off a burst of energy of their own - being able to damage or otherwise harm that vessel would significantly impede the ability of the enemy to orbitally bombard ground troops on the planet below.

A group of four battlecruisers, the four Sovereigns, splintered off from the core formation and moved to engage Scourge Harz and his fleet. They would open up with their main guns - each UBeam half as powerful as the main gun of the Gorgon itself - at long range before launching their own seeker baradium missiles at enemy targets, using their lesser beam weapons as they got into closer range. Hopefully the subfleet would manage to keep him occupied - their first target would be the fleet's flagship. A crunch was heard as part of the upper hull of the Whelm was grazed by the heavily damaged Cuirassier cruiser of Gallius Orcana , which was fired upon as well by the Sovereigns as they moved to engage those fleet assets.

Six Sovereign Elites moved forward to engage Var Koon and his flotilla. They were benefitted by a good number of the Sith on board the Gorgon, sensing the presence of the same Petard fighters used during the Dantooine invasion, tampering with the craft by forcing their hatches open - which in theory would detonate the fighters and potentially incinerate any ships nearby, depending on the equipped warheads. Onrai was disappointed that they had not been able to catch the fighters while still in their hangars - but reducing the threat of flying bombs to any allied ships was certainly a boon. The Sovereign Elites similarly engaged - initiating the attack with their UBeams, followed by a seeker baradium missile salvo and fire from their other batteries with a focus on the fleet's flagship.

The Galactic Alliance's new flagship would find itself met by six of the remaining Sovereign Elites. It was the second time the Battlecruiser design specifically intended for use against enemy dreadnoughts would see use in question - their first outing had been able to drive the NIV Tregessar off from Dantooine, and their predecessors had managed to seriously cripple the Hyperion Ascendant back when the Silver Jedi was the main enemy of the Empire, prior to the treason. They followed the same pattern: UBeam bombardment, seeker baradium missiles, followed by LRBBeams and other guns firing on the dreadnought in question. That the main gun was having issues was unknown - scans on the warship had not been performed to determine and previous damage or weaknesses the ship had previously undergone. Dracken Pryce would have worthy adversaries to worry about, at least.

Upon the bridge, Onrai began to focus. If there was an illusion that could be provided, she would work to provide it. The remaining four Sovereign Elites remained close to the Gorgon in preparation for any future groups of New Imperial or Galactic Alliance ships that moved to assault the dreadnought.

Spoiler: Fleet Assets

Vanessa's Command Fleet
Class | Name | Length | Shields | Hull
Gorgon-class Star Dreadnought | Gorgon | 10000m | 97 | 100(Attacking the Rae Sloane with UBeams, forward beams, and mass drivers using optical targeting, attacking Savoh Muska's Arquitens with orbital bombardment cannons
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Heresiarch | 5000m | 98 | 100(Protecting Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Despot | 5000m | 99 | 100(Protecting Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Autarch | 5000m | 95 | 100(Protecting Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Martinet | 5000m | 95 | 100(Protecting Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Sovereign | 5000m | 97 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Harbinger | 5000m | 99 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Guardian | 5000m | 96 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Mandator | 5000m | 97 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Caudillo | 5000m | 99 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Assertor | 5000m | 96 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Bellator | 5000m | 97 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Vengeance | 5000m | 97 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Viscount | 5000m | 94 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Intimidator | 5000m | 95 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Annihilator | 5000m | 94 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Arbitrator | 5000m | 96 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Sovereign | 5000m | 97 | 100(Engaging Des Harz and Gallius Orcana's ships)
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Terror | 5000m | 96 | 100(Engaging Des Harz and Gallius Orcana's ships)
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Whelm | 5000m | 95 | 89(Engaging Des Harz and Gallius Orcana's ships, was grazed by Gallius's cruiser)
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Ravager | 5000m | 94 | 100(Engaging Des Harz and Gallius Orcana's ships)

-

Ground
Allies: ???
Enemies: Ladybug , ???

Onrai and her escort of bloodtroopers and crimson-painted darktroopers began to head towards what according to the map had been one of the Sith Empire's data hubs, a place where the world's networked computer systems could effectually be controlled and operated - this included the systems for whatever planetary defenses the world had, all likely repurposed by the New Imperial Order. Onrai believed that if she was able to effectually introduce a mechu-deru virus from her collection into the data hub, it would spread to the rest of the world, infecting anything with a New Imperial Order or allied IFF signal and hopefully impeding the ability of the New Imperials to defend their illegally seized world.

So it was that their determined objective grew ever closer to them - with little aggressive resistance that was easily choked, broken, slashed, or gunned down by the infernal quintet.

 

[Laertia Io]

Objective: Revelin /March to Imperator Fortress

The streets were clogged with battle on all sides as Laertia, her new daughter Lura and CIS Marines fought through them.

Laertia functioned as a spear point for the charge, her inverted green blade catching blasterbolts from NIO storm troopers, teleporting grenades they threw, using her ionize abilities to redirect electronically guided missiles back to their source, killing scores of stormtroopers attempting to halt their advance. Lura, the first of a semi general production line of Nanite Based Assassin Droids had charged into battle at high speed against Imperial Knights, arms turning into blades to engage the surprised Knights, who had never seen nor fought such an opponent before.

Their Lightsabers clashed and skittered off her arm blades as Lura engaged them at high speed, dodging and flipping over their attacks, delivering her own with great strength, until, in a mathematically calculated and elegant swipe decapitated both, charging past their corpses at high speed which exposed her to the panicked fire of storm troopers who had literally no idea what had just killed their comrades, her digital mind calculating trajectory angles to dodge a good amount of the fire poured its direction, though some hit anyway, peppering her with blasterbolts, only for silvery liquid instead of blood to start leaking out of the impact holes, but Lura fought as savagely as ever as she landed in the middle of stormtroopers, her blades targeting the joints in their armor, one engaging her with a Vibrosword. After a few swings, chipping damage on the blades started to show, but Lura surprised the trooper by executing a spin kick, her leg turning into a sword that beheaded him as she landed, never ceasing the movements of her limbs and disemboweling Stormtroopers she rolled and flipped past, grabbing a pistol off one and John Wicking the last five with head shots.

Lura turned to her, visibly damaged., wounds sealing, but very slowly.

"Did you see that chit?!" Lura asked Laertia excitedly after turning two platoons standing in the way of them getting through to the streets beyond into gore, after Laertia herself had claimed an Imperial Knight's life by punching through his skull.

"Yes, I saw. Great work...I'm proud of you..." Laertia assured the Android, causing Lura to beam as Laertia caught caught a few bolts with her blade, teleporting above the shooters and bisecting them with great enthusiasm.

The words of Vaulkhar were not just heard by Imperial Knights, but by Laertia also. She felt some of the same sentiment towards the Sith, but that could wait until the Bryn'adul were dealt with. She didn't exactly scoff at them, but it wasn't that far from her actual feelings.

If these people didn't see the need to set aside their differences they needed to be swept aside. Laertia had no sympathy for any Imperial: The NIO were nothing but over ambitious upstarts getting everyone killed. Best to crush them now while they were on the back foot. Force the other powers to back off and possibly focus more on the Bryn'adul than each other. That in of itself might be a win...

Lura picked up the Lightsaber of an Imperial Knight she had slain. The nanites she was composed of scanned it as she activated its white blade. She ran her fingers over dead bodies, scanning them also for compatible technology. She found none, unfortunately. She soon rejoined her Mother as they charged forward, starting to encounter the Sun Guards of Onansi of Thyrsus . These warriors were not pushovers. Sun Guard were trained to kill Adepts, and they showed it actually repelling a good number of Laertia's attacks, one of them even managing to do what had taken the Sword of the Jedi himself a few tries and a nearly undefeatable attack and managed to score a blow, this time on Laertia's midsection with the tip of his vibrosword, ripping a few bits of armor plating away and leaking a large amount of red blood that quickly sealed and began repairing. Laertia grunted in pain, the Armor's brain wave regulators killing most but not all of the pain. She dodged his next slashing attempt with his Phrik alloy vibrostaff and broke his neck with a strong punch to his head. More Sun Guards engaged her, and Laertia was again caught off guard by how good they actually were, often forcing her to think her defense out as she parried absolutely ruthless slashes and stabs from all sides in Form Three, becoming the Eye in The Storm, letting herself sink into the Force past the slaughter and death she was helping the Sith inflict in a perverse irony to preserve a military front against an enemy that would not listen to reason.

Laertia let the Force guide her, deeply ashamed at having to help the Elder Compact kill such brave souls who wanted only to be free of the Sith. But the Bryn'adul must not win at ANY cost.

Laertia maneuvered past swings, counter attacking and killing as to an all out offense, as the Sun Guards actually were worth a damn in a fight, and she could see them handily cutting down lesser warriors all across the street. Even Lura was given pause at fighting them, forcing herself to rely on blocks and parries with her stolen lightsaber, sustaining multiple holes and slashes across her body revealing silvery, leaking insides, but Lura fought on brutally still, eventually graphically dismembering each attacker.

Laertia let her defenses carry her through the ferocious assault from the Sun Guards, her wound aggravated by constant movement and healing slower as a result. Surely there would be a scar by the time it was done, and it was irritating enough to distract now, letting another Guard get a slash in on her cybernetic arm with a Force Pike, only for Laertia to cave his chest in with a single punch in retaliation, shifting to Form Two to grant her more alacrity in her defenses, rapidly bringing each attacker down with swift, efficient strikes to the neck or waist, killing them instantly.

"Lura!" Laertia called out to her damaged daughter.

"Yes?" Lura asked.

"Seek out targets of opportunity. Kill any high ranking military opposition you encounter..."

"You got it! I'll ginsu their ass so hard a Five Star Chef would serve them on platters without blinking!" The Nanite Assassin Droid slowly becoming adored by its creator chirped with great enthusiasm, grabbing a pistol and breaking off to seek targets.

Laertia and the others continued to press forward to the Fortress, The Black Knight starting to encounter large groups of Imperial Knights, who seemed to recognize her on sight. The tales of her savage brutality towards them at Dantooine must have spread because not only was she suddenly fending them off, some using two blades at once, or a staff Lightsaber, but now she was fending off the aggressive, deadly Sun Guards also.

Laertia gave herself to the flow of pure Form One, her blade fending off deadly attack patterns that would have cut down lesser warriors, extending its length by a third to catch her fierce, deadly attackers by surprise, cutting some in half too slow to raise their weapon to vlock in time, giving her breathing room. One particularly fierce and well trained Sun Guard launched into a deadly, vicious flurry that caught Laertia's helmet, knocking part of it away, leaving a gash on the plating that exposed her eye. Laertia launched into a set of fast, strong slashes that quickly cut her attacker to pieces, biting through his reinforced armor after enough slashes, even as she fended off the attacks of others at the same time.

An Imperial Knight closest to her position caught the appearance of that eye, for it wasn't gray, but the mutated Bronze and Green of a Light Side Sith. He had only a second to realize the implications before a saber went through his face, though this cost her as another Sun Guard, managed to graze her shoulder, forcing her to draw her ash gray Dark Saber, telekinetically flinging it into its heart, the special blade burning through reinforced chest armor before teleporting back to her hand to catch the staff of a knight, her will holding her shoto in place as her other blade slashed through his neck, not decapitating him, but killing him instantly all the same.

Laertia's attacks grew more fluid, frenzy like as she drove her attackers back, teleporting behind them and catching them by surprise with a vicious, dual bladed assault that mimicked Syd's preferred fighting style, eventually cutting them all down, the Sun Guard's seeming to last the longest before being slain.

As the last Sun Guard in the area she was currently in fell, Laertia felt remorse. How many of them were parents, like she was now?

How different was she really from Darth Phyre, Laertia feared in the back of her head as she spared the corpses a momentary glance of pity and shame before pressing onward with the other troops, who had been cutting down storm troopers.

She marched to find whoever was leading these Sun Guards and Force Feed him her Sabers, along with possibly Zakaria Black and Enlil .

Laertia advanced on the Fortress, still tearing through scores of lesser warriors, blades flashing through any flesh they found to meet her targets.

Meanwhile.

Lura the Advanced Model 1 since leaving her mother, had slowly repaired the damage she had suffered over the course of 14 minutes, by breaking down rubble in the surrounding environment for the raw materials her Nanites needed to effect quicker repairs. It had then been a matter of stealing a fallen speeder bike, searching for targets and soon came across one, a force of tanks and stormtroopers with NIO colors. The stealthy approach had been best.

She had observed a squad of storm troopers, paid attention to Armor color, Insignia, and voice as they engaged their enemies, and had quickly surprised them with arm blades from behind, as they provided support fire for the attack led by DECEASED Erskine Barran . So much Chaos everywhere. Lura loved it. Blades go slicey!

They were engaging so many SithSpawn, that she took advantage, manuevering through the throngs of fighters, killing some as they fought for their life as wel as Sith Spawn vanishing into a cloud of smoke from a burning vehicle and emerging as one of the Stormtroopers she had killed, grabbing a pistol and getting near one of the Cataphracts, depositing a few drops of herself on its hull as she gunned down Sith Spawn with headshots, the nanite sample leaking in through various crevices, quantum encoding of the nanites slowly working their way through the computer targeting systems of the Cataphract as she drew ever closer to Erskine, Digital mind calculating targeting for his general area.

At the perfect moment, she at last siezed control of the computer systems, and made the Cataphract fire on his position to the confusion and horror of the pilots within...

Meanwhile, on the Prosperity...

Lura was not the only Advanced Model Nuetralizer deployed that day.

Another Nuetralizer, deployed at high risk into enemy territory, had one directive.

Sabotage the SSD Prosperity.

Days of busy infiltration, had led to it managing to smuggle itself aboard via hiding as liquid metal in the insides of a Starfighter, dripping out of it slowly and forming into a silvery puddle that moved across the surface of the hangar, pilots taking final preparations and flight plans as it slithered past them without them noticing, though it left a sample in one of the Starfighters, having quietly hacked its systems with it, the stream of Nanites flowing into an alarm panel, traveling down the electrical systems to find something truly delicate to screw with on the ship Ryv was on. It soon began to find the wiring to actual security systems...

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

V i n d i c a t e _ A c t u a l

307th Stormtrooper Legion // Darth Sybila
Task //: Evacuate

F r o m T h e S t a r s

Tenebrae Armor / Hand Of God / BR-212-'Jackal' ACR / BH 'Durin' Charric Blaster Pistol / Light Saber (s) / Void Grenade

​

The HUD shuttered as it filtered through the glass and dust, a sheen from particles on the air overtaking the room as light poured through the ruined wall. Lyra had risen to her full height, plaster and rubble falling from her shoulders. Dull thuds echoed as the chunks of wall hit the ground. It would never matter how many times she reared her head back in defiance to the voice that shifted like the wind, let alone to the fists that beat inside her chest.

Through the haze red lines raced down the screen as the A.I highlighted the disoriented forms of the civilian militants. She couldn’t find it in herself to pity them. The flash had cut their last stand off, the faint ringing of the grenade reverberated through the building. The repeater had almost eaten through a platoon alone.

Dantooine had been the source of many failure and unnecessary sacrifices, a source of personal failure.

A slip of judgment, where she had toyed the line of beast and man. A quick draw and a flash of red burned through the air, the blaster shot clipping her left shoulder. They had wanted to fight. Her servo curling around the barrel of her own rifle-she wouldn’t fire a shot. Anyone could be a wild animal when cornered. Shadows moved through the dust and men rose to their feet-none of them could understand, none of them had been free of the binds of the Empire. Lyra had surged forward, hauling the first gorilla fighter as she twisted her hips and launched him over her shoulder.

“You’re wasting your efforts here Sybila, can’t you see that?” ​

A crack ran down the drywall as the militian hit the floor. The tenebrae creaked as another landed on her back and they struck a pack of wolves, arms wrapped around and hands prying at her helm; nails scraping the durasteel. They spat and screamed, one dove for his blaster and the A.I adjusted. Lyra was calm, she kicked out. Her hands flew out, redirected the knife that was drawn-bending the man’s arm back painfully-

“Break it.” ​

Cold lips pressed closely to the shell of her ear, her own voice urged her. She was her own enemy. Lyra slammed her closed gauntlet down on his arm, the force alone may have cracked bone but he dropped the knife. The militant shouted, a chorus of anger and insults. Lyra had ripped each man down in that dusty hovel until she stood alone over their withering bodies; the natives of Dantooine. She knew they had lost the battle. In an instant she had flexed her gauntlet out before, the snap and pull through the force scattered the weapons of the crow’s nest. He was there again, and Lyra could swear she could see the Sith himself standing just over shoulder.

“Mercy? You will not win this battle on mercy alone. This is why they’re here-the Empire placed them oh so carefully. They are expendable and the Order won’t possess them-they’ll die before that.”

Was it a psyche break? Her screen passed over the militants, stepping over one man carefully. She would have put down a Cartharian, a Mandalorian-it wouldn’t have mattered once upon a time who it was behind the weapon. She couldn’t fire a shot, it was a desperate excuse. What would she be if she put a bolt in a handful of angry civilians. A barbarian.

“These cur are nothing, who would challenge you if you killed them now Sybila? You’re men won’t take them and take this city, cut a swath through the city-” ​

She flinched as the voice rolled over her. Across the radio she could hear the progress of the armor, the foundation of the building shook as the tanks rolled down the avenue. A sweat built on her brow as the maniac’s voice invaded the recesses of her mind. They had no kill orders-her hand raised to access her comms eyeing the prone bodies. The map flickered and she swore she saw a signal-her helmet swiveled around the remains of the room. Three floors had to be cleared and she moved with a purpose, each step heavy as turned the corner. Lyra realized then this had been someone's home once, pictures and glass littered the carpeted floors-

Lyra had pulled the trigger too many times but the Order couldn’t afford that, she supposed it was one of the few reasons they were better. Lyra had only fooled herself though.

She hadn’t been polite enough to guide the like’s of her Master’s body to the ground in the end. No she had waited impatiently, watching the light fade from his eyes on the heights of the Imperial Palace. When she turned down the next hall, floors creaking, betraying her-he was standing before her in decrypted remains of the home-at the threshold. His laughter rang through her ears. The audio receptors screamed and whined as his voice fizzled over the sound of the siege.

He had played her well-her doubts that surrounded his death. The body that was never retrieved- the blaster at her hip was drawn and when her finger squeezed the trigger. Sweat built on her neck and every hair stood on end-Tibanna was rife in the air and she saw red. It was the final shot she had fired that battle. It wasn’t Avernus who hit the ground. The remains of a young woman who had turned the corner did, round face and pale eyes wide-dead before she hit the ground with a smoking wound ripped through her chest, she had ripped her helmet off, retching there. The girl couldn't of been more then twenty. He had played her so damn well.

“Oh dear Sybila, I think that’ll stain the carpet.” ​

If anyone asked- the footage had shown the woman was armed, if it had made it on to reports, someone would have scrubbed it. It didn’t matter whether she lived in denial or justification, Lyra had given orders. The mounting horror lined every vein with ice, she couldn't be trusted. Worse yet, when the tilt of the woman’s face-the color of her hair faded..Lyra began seeing Treicolts own, his body hitting the ground after her conscience had grown tired and needed a new way to inflict upon her.

//: Location Commercial Sector, Ravelin, Bastion..
//: Time 03:34....
//: Protocol #3..

<”You good?”>

Faceless behind the helm, Lyra inhaled as she found herself faced with a civilian. Her back ached from the angle they had set her at and Lyra slowly unfurled her fist. Her chest rose erratically as her adrenaline levels began to spike again. The woman was crying. There were at least fifteen evacuees, wedged between the troopers in the back alley, quiet whimpers and the sound of power cells being loaded intermingled. Their trivial questions went unanswered as the soldiers packed in. She craned her head, trying to find her baring-it had been so quiet in the hours leading to here..

<”Her vitals feed is normal, the bacata is-”>

Lyra didn’t bother to listen to the wirey feed of the medic, her eyes passed over the HUD taking in their numbers. A deceased line ran straight down the roster and she exhaled. They needed to fall back, the repeater echoed just outside the mouth of the alleyway and the air was heavy with smoke. The sky was pulsating with aerial fire, the whine of ties and artillery choking out the planetside. It was the Lieutenant who had spoken to her directly, the Zabrak leaned forward-obscuring her line of sight as she refused to answer. Static over run her audio and her brows furrowed-

<”Lieutenant comm links are down, signals connection is dodging. We have...a mile radius,”> the communications officer spoke up from his post, something harried behind his words. The trooper adjusted a series of connections on the control pad as he stepped out of line. No obvious damages had come to the radio pack at first glance and she had an inkling they were going to be faced with Muunlinist again.

<”Do we still have pings on locations?”> Lyra rasped, interrupting as the officer dropped to his knee near her..

<”Yes, but positions will be delayed and the accuracy will decay over time. The jam could be coming from anywhere, above the planet-or it could be damage to our links,”> the Officer answered regarding her briefly as he set in to diagnostics.

<”What I miss?”> Lyra asked, her servo snapped together as she got the Lieutenants attention. Her other hand planted itself on the wall at her back, metal scraping the cement as she pushed herself to her feet. A rush of blood fled to her limbs and Lyra’s vision darkened.

<”SIMP support infantry are moving in on the , I am about to pull the squad on the corner back-”>

<”Good, pop some nulls and lets get this done. Now what were the last several transmissions?”> She asked, helmet swiveling between the two as she blinked rapidly. In her mind she placed the reverie back into the deep pit of her consciousness. It had been the round of the woman’s cheeks, an echo of another person.

The weight of the armor settled in as Lyra caught her breath, ventilators kicked in and a cool air washed over her. A strong hand caught her shoulder, steadying her and Lyra traded a look with the Lieutenant. He offered her up the Jackal, somewhere in her dive she had discarded it on the roadway. An ugly series of scratches now ran along the paint and her palm brushed down the stock of the gun. Lyra wanted to shake her head, to push it back into his trained hands. As if they could trust her with it.

Lyra’s chest tightened painfully, a phantom pain but she was alright. The memory had degraded but the stain wouldn’t go away. Lyra groaned and rolled her shoulder, she had given the demolitions a time frame and her eyes flew to the timer set on her vambrace. The seconds were dwindling.

<”Vandal relieved the 77th on Epsilon, they’re enroute back to us now..Ma’am they reported Vandal sent in a prisoner unit and..and they blew the line behind them..”> the officer answered. He had cut a swath behind prisoners..? A silent look traded between her to Arroyo, the disbelief radiated from the Zabrak-from the collective. The officer raised a hand and she glanced at the trooper and slowly turned to follow his line of sight. Through the burning haze left on the roadway, the dust column bloomed from the Epsilon point miles above the residential complexes.

<”Noted,”> Lyra uttered coldly. So they were that desperate, her lip curled up in mounting disgust and she shuddered. He had sent prisoners- A series of blaster shots whizzed past the mouth of the alley, clipping the stonework and scattering the wall with scorch marks. Her concern returned to the mess unfolding on the avenue, a dumpster had been overturned in improvised cover and the troopers were wading through the trash-a few pop shots firing from their point.

They were knee deep in a world siege, justice didn’t exist in these spaces but the outrage set fire to her blood. The woman could draw any parallel she liked between Vandal and them, but at the end of the day-she hated she knew it was a necessary tactic.

Them or us.

She turned back, gauntlet trailing down and re-checking her ammo and locking the rifle in. They just needed to hold the line, she didn't know where..but anything to hold the tide back.

<”What else?”>

<”Snake Company is inbound, last ping..five blocks back? They’re set to intercept the reserves.”>

<”Copy, what is the status on First through Fourth Avenue?”>

<”Lieutenant Cinn called retreat, charges negative on Fourth. First through Third confirmed. They marked SIMP armor encroaching..”> the officer answered, hands rested hesitantly on the relay. An exacerbated noise tore through her throat she cursed silently.

<”Did you get any report on civilian movements...”> Lyra dared broach.

<”Chaotic.. fire fights are heavy in the first districts. Lieutenant Cinn has ordered civilians down to basements and the like..”>

Half the street was still occupied based on the radar-

<”Don’t let them waste their shots, and get some cover on the inbound squads,”> Lyra reached out, pivoting away from the comm’s officer and guiding the Zabrak toward the alley’s exit with a rough hand. Anything to fill the absence of solution- what to do with the bystanders. Her screen landed back on her vambrace as she raised her servo, she flagged the comm’s officer away. The effective dismissal silenced any questions.

The aurebesh flickered down into red and she tracked the timer. The map’s radar populated slowly as a tide of blue markers began to withdraw. Appw’rii cleared on the roster and she turned her helmet to watch the troopers toss out a series of canisters from behind the blockade. She waited to see the woman. The metal clink echoed down the roadway before the heavy black tar smoke began to proliferate from the center of the road. The drop was hailed by thunderous sound of boot fall, the sound of the heavy repeater blaster drew closure-

<”I want every civie on their feet, get shirts-their coats up to shield themselves. Be ready to evacuate them on my mark-”>

The orders flew from her mouth, stooping down to haul off a man up to his feet. Lyra packed up, the Jackal was slung over her shoulder in a single motion and she hailed the red clad troopers toward the mouth of the alley. Through the haze a single trooper climbed in through the gap over the dumpster, Nima emerged with a dark coat of null on her blast plate and ugly scorch mark down the thigh of her armor. Lyra could tell she was limping as the woman offered a single salute with her pistol-

<”Buildings Aurek through Cresh are set, clear. Charges ready on your mark Colvy.”> Nima’s voice flooded the local link.

<”Copy. Arroyo you’ll lead us out!”> Lyra answered, digits pried open the panel on the vambrace as the tacpad lit up, the cerulean screen hummed.

The explosion deafened as she hit the charge, audio dampeners whirled. The street shook under foot as the office buildings collapsed, cutting off the movement of ground forces on the Avenue. The armor wouldn’t have an opportunity to cut a swath through here.

They couldn’t see the flames from the alley but the percussion that followed carried a hot dust. The fallout punched through the alley engulfed them, the screams of the civilians were choked as they were suspended in the dust of the aftermath, it was a danger close charge.

There was a lull before Lyra reached out, their fear bled at the edges of her mind she snagged Nima’s shoulder as the platoon line shifted. A step behind them as the remains of the building settled a few hundred yards from their position. Troopers hauled out the evacuees, guiding them through the debris. Their steps harried and blaster fire echoed in the distance, a dark and orange color was cast over the whole block, the day’s light couldn’t reach them down here..

<”Comms bridge my message through reserves to Snake!”> Lyra barked, eyes narrowed as her boots pounded down the pavement. A handful of them, including herself, brought up the rear of the retreat. A green light flickered at the corner of her HUD as she cycled through the remaining troopers, they had to figure out another delay.

<<”Snake, platoons in retreat. Roadblock success. SIMP armor moving, marked on radar. Escorting evacuees now.”>>

---

​

ALLIES | NIO | SOM | Djorn Bline Creuat Willan Tal DECEASED Erskine Barran Tyrell Paxxus Kolson Vrask Meko Sorrin Zakaria Black FN-999 Vostok Grauv
ENEMIES | TSE | OPEN

 

[Creuat]

K N I G H T
NEW JEDI ORDER
BASTION | RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT

His only concerned was survival for him and his Padawan, especially for his pupil. That was the mission, and everything else was second. If they could help out with the others, military or civilian, without compromising the security of Hel, then he would gladly do so. For a moment all adherence to the Jedi code and morals was out of his mind. All for the sake of survival. It was perhaps selfish to be only concerned with the safety of his Padawan and himself, but everything came fast with a relentless fury from the Sith. No mercy would be given to those that didn’t stand with the evil of the Sith, and so he wouldn’t expect any from them. Here, in the residential district of Ravelin, citizens struggled and fought for every inch of survival to escape the prejudice destruction of the Sith.

Order was compromised from this daring assault of the Sith, New Imperials doing whatever they possibly could to save and evacuate that were the farthest away from the front lines of battle. A battle that his Padawan was unprepared, Rhis knowing that she would not survive from her limited training in the Force and combat.

Sadly, that was something he could not shed from her as the Nautolan felt a vessel of hatred and anger near itself to the pair.

A barbaric barrage of munition made its mark upon the housing unit that provided shelter for a good number of people. Right before the mount and its master crashed through the exterior, leaving a debris of duracrete from the giant hole it made and staring upon its hunted.

“Run!” he yelled in command at his Padawan, even ushering a Force Push at the direction of Hel to knock her back into the hallway to put distance between her and this Sith Lord. The Nautolan then focused on collapsing a portion of the somewhat intact layers of ceiling above him and the mounted Sith Lord with intentions of it crashing upon the head of the Dark Warrior, hoping for it to stun the Sith in order to escape this damaged building.

This was a fight inevitable for Master and Apprentice, knowing they would be pursued by this warrior. The Jedi then made a dash to reach his Padawan, and escape before having this building be their tomb.

ALLIES | NIO | NJO |Mrurh'en'lase | Hel
ENEMIES | TSE | CIS | Vora Kaar

 

[Aaran Tafo]

LOCATION: THE TUNNELS
OBJECTIVE II: DANGER BELOW
OPPOSITION: Quinn Varanin​

The arrival of the Echani Princess did little to knock the Wanderer from his stupor. He was simply sitting there on a toppled pillar when she began her outburst. Eyes staring forward at the spot where Drea and the Sorcerer once stood. Nothing left of them bar a pair of charred corpses, too badly damaged by the flames to be able to identify. Both of the Force Sensitives present would feel that all that remained of either of them where the soft pulses of their respective kyber crystals. Buried somewhere in the ash.

Distantly in his mind. He made a note to bring the Squire's crystal back to her companions. They deserved at least something to remember their comrade by.

It was only a full five seconds after Quinn's outburst did Aaran's eyes finally drift over to her. Her words reached his ears. But it took a moment for his brain to finally shake of the malaise of sadness before he could get a response. He did not recognise this woman. But, one could judge from her reaction that she was no fan of the Jedi, if she were an Imperial she may be a bit more impartial to the death of a Sith.

So that did leave only one other likely option.

"Your observational skills need work." He commented, pushing himself back to his feet, rising from the toppled pillar as he rose to his full height. An imposing figure of muscle. Standing nearly a full foot taller than the dainty Echani. "The killer was an Imperial Knight. Not a Jedi." He gave the slighest of nods towards the ruined bodies. Not that either of them had any distinguishable marks anymore.

"I'm afraid no Jedi here has kiled anyone today. So I cant answer your question on bloodlust. Never particularly felt it myself. I just want the fighting to stop." And if Quinn pried with her impressive empathic abilities. She'd find nothing but honesty. Either he was pulling some kind of a ruse. Or this young man in front of her was allowing his emotions to be clearly read.

All she could feel was an overwhelming sense of melancholy that had been clinging to him for quite some time. Death hovered around him like a cloud, sticking to him. But none directly caused by his hand. Merely an consequence of being at the epicenter of the failed ritual.

To further hit home with his statement of not killing anyone today. He even appeared unarmed. There was no lightsaber at his belt, no blaster. He was not even wearing armour. Just a semi-worn flight jacket, over a thin shirt, a pair of slightly torn jeans and boots. If not for the clearly trained muscle on him, or the obvious presence he had in the Force, he could nearly be mistaken as a civillian who wandered down here.

"I just came here to try and keep some friends alive." He said, shaking his head. "Did not go that well." Closing his eyes, he massaged the bridge of his nose. "Might I ask why you're here? Picking a fight? Reclaiming your home? Looking for glory? I'm sure they're all very justifiable reasons to you." After all, that was how the good and bad guys were decided in war. Whoever could best justify their actions. Ignoring the one real truth.

There were no winners in War.

 

[Areyon]

A R E Y O N
ALLIES: NIO | IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
ENEMIES: Darth Ledgermayne | Daeron | TSE | CIS
Gear: Lightsaber Pike, Armor
NPCS: Omega Guard x6

The assault from the brainless horde still continued fiercely, but the Omega Guard held their positions like a duracrete wall refusing to be knocked over.

The blunt end of Areyon's lightsaber pike met the chest of another crystalline creature. Using its rushing momentum, he redirected his opponent towards the wall to which it quickly slammed into. Without hesitation, the silver blade of the lightsaber pike was thrusted into the chest area of the creature, and the life that was given to it slowly drained away.

Their position was being shifted back ever so slightly. With each push of the creatures attacks, they would have to move backward in order to gain room to attack. The tunnels did not allow three or more men to stand side-by-side together and barely allowed two. If they did not move to a more spacious area, they would get overrun. Another step backward, the inevitable was yet to come.

An Omega Guard tasked with guarding the back of the position spoke up, grabbing Areyon's attention.

"Captain! A Sith warrior has been spotted!"

His body turned 180 degrees to face the other direction. He had lightsaber pike deactivated and quickly moved towards the back of the position, his spot in the front being overtaken by another Omega Guard. No words were exchanged between them, but they knew what was to be done. He was soon staring at the darkness of the other direction of the tunnel, but he could hear something coming from that direction. A faint, slow noise. An alarm. Something had been breached. It needed to be investigated at once.

"Hold the line! Do not let these foul beasts past!" He cried out as he stepped off into the direction of the noise. Leaving the Omega Guard to defend against the crystal horde may have seemed like suicide, but Areyon was confident in their ability. They would not fall to a dastardly abomination created by the Sith.

He soon met a hole cut into a door of one of the tunnels. The hole was cut crudely, but it was large enough to fit one man. The Omega's report was correct.

How did he not sense this sooner?

As Areyon came through the hole in the door, his eyes looked upon a control room. All types of equipment that had been here for years were placed around the room, rather still functioning or destroyed from age. The highlight of the room though was the large door, barred with mechanical locks that were meant to hold something back. And in front of it, was the Sith. Areyon assumed a defensive position with his lightsaber pike but did not activate it. No one had to strike just yet.

"Before you do something that you will regret, I have to ask you to step away from the bulkhead. I will not ask a second time."​

What the Sith motives were, was unclear.

 

[Darth Ledgermayne]

​

Location: Below the surface; Tunnels
Enemies: Areyon (Engaged) Detritus Ren Hans Rennagen Aaran Tafo
Allies: Daeron Xeykard Quinn Varanin
Objective II: Blind them all
Equipment: Located in Signature
NPC's:
Oblitus Ari tishâka x2
Oblitus Mongrels x78
Oblitus Bellatoria x38 /w Bowcasters


The mongrels dropped like flies. The very notion causing Ledgermayne an expression of stoic awe. Something within struck a cord. It amused the Sith Lord to see the Imperial forces struggle and eventually win their battles. The Oblitus Mongrels were nothing but fodder to be used. They posed the most threat when in great numbers and even now in their time of strength they failed. A shine came to the Gutretee's eyes as his mental made note of were his successes were. Where he had gained and where he had failed. The master was not lone watching the hordes of monsters attack his new Imperial enemies. No. Far from this. Each sithspawn was a live given new purpose in his eyes. Connected to his own mind. They believed in him and his direction. Each crack, fissure and fracture of his minions crystalline flesh was as a hammer on his mental. Mere stormtroopers warranted not Ledgermaynes attention, but the actions of these new Imperials did. The grouping in question was able to destroy several Mongrels.

A crystalline brow fell deep. Creased into a furrow. Sharp and ridged fingers struck a claw like pose. Reaching down at his own hip, the Gutretee Sith took hold of a dagger and brought it up slowly near his chest. Its origin was sith and it was apparent enough in its elegant and sadistic design. Cradled with a reverse grip. The red gem embedded in the hilt was akin to Ledgermaynes on skin in texture and color. The relic fell still clutched in his grasp, a red crystalline veil fell and the Sith shut his eyes. A the tunnels encapsulating himself, his creations and this new enemies would stirr. Gravel twisted and shook near his feet. Cosmic whispers of impending doom would rush to those around. Those eager to open their ears.

The crystalline sithspawn stopped in their tracks. Frozen briefly.
Their focus collectively fell apon what was known as the Omega guard and their leader Areyon

Red orbs blazed like crimson stars. Fiery and burning with twisted inner emotions, so buried within the depths of hardened red hued minerals and now it beaconed for the release. To be used and taken control of. Though many meters away Ledgermaynes gaze came toward the new group of enemies gradually. His concentration honed and unbroken. A dark boon bestowed apon him by the dagger in his crystal grasp. His lower visage began to move, mouthing mere whispers at first but soon the unnatural voice echoed within the tunnels. The tongue of High sith being spoken. Wisping like ghosts around each stone, pillar, pathway. Carried on the winds of insanity itself to burrow and saturate this very tomb. The very emotions that were trapped within the Gutretee, dripped from his mind, down to his body and manifest in black mist to adjacent surroundings. Slowly his figure was entombed by it.

This soon would be a Catacomb.

" You threaten with your vaunted combative prowess, as if it is enough, The same skills that failed you all, miserably on Dantooine." The words seemed to bounce off each wall. From there the siths chants grew louder. Through the eyes mind Ledgermayne's mind fell into the channel of darkside power around him. Touching a stream of black waters and taking it in further. Mist turned to near black fog. Expanding out from his position in every direction and tunnel with surges energy in waves. The river of dark side energy, hidden in cosmic veils all around them through the thin veil of reality was breached and from it an ocean flowed out. Waves of pure darkness. Blinding in its approach. The crystalline sithspawn would slowly be merged into the incoming ever expanding horizon of darkness. The Fog. Formless it travelled. Bending, turning, attempting to shape itself in every passage way and subsystem.

From within the pitch black, screams of agony, weeping, gnashing of teeth, monstrous roars, thunderclaps and loud static. Intertwined in it all the sense of despair, anxiety and dread. It would held the power to smother the mind.

 

[Kolson Vrask]

V A N D A L
VANDAL SQUAD 6/6
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Grenades

YOU WANT TO START A FIRE ON THE BRAXANT
​

<"Captain- you think you and your troopers can hold Dorn?"> Berik sounded off to the 307th Trooper. Vandal was useful anywhere...but they were better put to work anywhere else. His role was strategic disruption, the destruction of strategic assets and whatever else would turn the thorn in the side into a jagged dagger.

To bleed them out.

<"We got the armor and the bodies."> The Red Rider replied in kind.

Berik nodded.

<"Noted. Hang in there, those Sithspit will give you the time to bunker down, otherwise... Vandal is on the move."> Berik stated in reply. He raised a hand, pointed to the sky and rouned it to rally his Commandos on him.

It was getting louder now, the raging war around them.

Good.

More Sith to kill. Less of that anxious anticipation for the first bolt whizzing past his ears or the first sight of blood or smell of burnt flesh. All would be made into its natural order in the chaos. The chaos of the most natural undergoing man could ever take. Violence.

Dantooine left him rather unsated, it was an awkward trauma of civilians crammed into the madness between himself and those parasites on the other side. Left a lot of room to be desired when it came to potential targets at the end of his blaster.

Here, they were in control of the battlefield and there was only the enemy to hone in on. Only the raging screamers of black and crimson begging to be first in his sights.

<"What's the aim, we don't have a priority target list, no VIPs, nothing."> Nothing?

<"Doesn't matter. If anything, I say all the better. They're a hydra, these Sith. You lop off one head, two more parasites'll reach up and snag the spot anyway. We're here to cause damage. Name a 'Darth', you kill it, they'll rush another to take the role. I don't care what they give us, I just want to make them bleed. That's all that matters anymore."> Berik states in reply as they make way into a building, half intact, half shelled out.

<"We'll set an overwatch here, we have good enough view of this pathway to thump any Sith armor headed to Overlord. Get the warhead launcher setup on that window.">

<"Understood."> A commando rushed to fill the role, propping up his warhead launcher weapons platform into the window.

A holomap hit the floor, the second it stopped clattering against the metallic surface, it projected Ravelin before him, Berik kneeling down to take in the view.

Too many red bogies hitting the air space, not enough grey to knock them out. Space must be turbulent, he could only think. Not that there was anything to be done about that. Ravelin was holding up well enough...for now. No one could speak for the next hour...or the hour after that and so on.

It was time to flip the tide.

<"These dropships keep coming on over us. Gotta start knocking out these karking birds. We pluck them out of the air now, they'll be easy pickings once they're on the ground. Get your launcher set and ready to go. Kark it, get the MG trained on em too. Where's our nearest 'req' drop?">

<"Twenty yards.">

<"It got rockets?">

<"You'd better believe.">

<"Get it set down, our AA is clearly having trouble cutting through the shit, need to supplement that a little. Get warhead platforms established with clean locks, target priority on any dropship you see. Our flyboys can handle their fighters...matter of fact-."> Build a bridge back to the 77th.

<"This is Vandal-Actual. Strong recommendation to prioritize establishing an anti-air position. Smack down any dropship you see. Sith, Confederate. If it's flying, ground it. Need to establish superiority up above."> Berik 'ordered' to his hierarchical equivilent. Special forces granted a little more clout, luckily.

<"Understood, Captain. We have three launchers, we'll set our 'Cataphracts' to 'siege' and get them pointed up, HMPs should be headed from Gladius within the next ten.">

<"Music to my ears, no quarter.">

<"No quarter.">

<"Soon as we're able to knock out these dropships, we're the vultures."> Cut open the carcass, butcher the meat.

The Sith would be soon to lose their swarm of black and crimson dropships, he could only hope.

Within a few minutes, anti-air positions were established on the outskirts, with dropships in their sights. Parceled and stringent in their deployment, they did not have a large scale strategic impact but with the hopes of impeding the forward advancement of Sith troops and batter the risk of deployment behind their lines.

WHO DARES WINS
Noel Strasza

THE SITH
INTENT TO ENGAGE :: Iasha Rha

WARPOST TLDR ; Firing at gunships headed to land in Ravelin. Not a LOT obviously but, if you're TSE and want to eat a crash landing, there's your 'in'.​

ALLIES | NIO | Djorn Bline | Lyra Voi’kryt | Creuat | Willan Tal | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Tyrell Paxxus | Meko Sorrin | Zakaria Black | FN-999 Vostok Grau
ENEMIES | TSE | CIS | Luna Terrik | UX-0626 | Iasha Rha | Alina Tremiru | Dimitri Voltura | Kesran Opadal

 

[Marrow]

Location: Tunnels beneath Ravelin, close to Library.
Objective: Recover abandoned artefacts, slay the unworthy.
Equipment: Sith Warblade, Unspecified Talismans, Glorious Golden Mask.
Writing With: Elpsis Kerrigan

His heat-based attack falling flat in the face of her seemingly absorbing the heat directly with no visible harm, it was a good thing indeed that he had opted to follow-up with a vicious slash. Her shotgun offering just enough resistance to keep him from bisecting her while also giving her the time needed to draw her lightsaber, he was prepared for a counterattack - but not necessarily the wave of incandescent flame she released.

Bringing his warblade into a close guard, he flinched backwards, alchemised steel glowing a molten red as it absorbed all it could - even so, flames still reached his form, only to be further reduced by his full-body protection. The laws of thermodynamics were hard to shirk entirely, however, as made evident by the pained grunt that left his lips, no doubt the result of badly blistering skin.

First that damned Light-wielder on Korriban and now this - it seemed he was proving more flammable than intended.

Movements somewhat jerky, he reflexively pulled back into a defensive position only for the realisation that such a situation was untenable to strike him. She no doubt had further tricks up her sleeve. Instead, he extended a hand once more...

... and in response, air rushed in from around them with a howl, seeking to burst her eardrums.

 

[Ty Sibo]

Location:
Ravelin, Bastion
Objectives:
Ty's objective: Establish beachhead and fob, coordinate strikemissions and assist allies , Give into his demons and battle the forces of Willan Tal and DECEASED Erskine Barran
Scarecrows objectives: shuttlecraft To establish a beachhead for ally forces, joining the armor convoy to punch threw checkpoints
Ty's equipment:Protosaber, biosuit, H.A.R.M. mk 1 armor. Anti material rifle, Heavy service pistol, 4 man EE biodroid squad
Scarecrows equipment: 25x 001 biodroids, H.A.R.M. MK1 ARMOR, Armor bodysuit, Laser battle rifle, M-416's, GMG's, 1x tank destroyer. 2x armored infantry vehicles, 3x heavy gunship shuttles, 24x EE biodroid squad
Tag DECEASED Erskine Barran , Willan Tal
Losses: 11 001 biodroids, 12 EE biodroids, and 1 APC

Floating in an endless blackness, the emptiness, and the loneliness, the knowledge that you're left with the thoughts of your life up until this point all your choices. All your life up until this point all the good and the bad, Ty had a front-row seat to it all He watched his death all of them, the hundreds of time the cooperation that he now runs killed and brought him back and for what science? The Vow he made to not let anyone go threw the hell he's been put threw. the vow he made to his wife that he'll always protect her. Spirits know if he could go back and change things he would.

"No my allies, my men they'll be slaughtered...I can't die here..."
"so you'll give in?"
Ty didn't need to turn around to know who that abomination was that spoke to him, he's been plagued with her presence ever since the Company succeded in the Harbinger project she gave him his powers, she gave him the revenge on the company, she gave him the knowledge to create life like the biodroids and here she was offering him his life in return for her bloodlust. He would tell her to shove it where it fits but his creations his allys other Eternal Empire on the battlefield needed his help.
"Yes..."
"Yes what?"
"Yes Abeloth, I will give in to your bloodlust Im your instrument."
"Very Well, You may go back to save your friends. Just remember"

Ty felt the pressure around his heartstone like it was being squeezed causing him to grip the clothes on his chest. "remember whos in control here." The light returned to his sockets though not the pale blue but a deep shadowy black smoke seething around the sockets like the pits of his soul seeing the light once more.

The Catafracs that fired moments ago in the turrets attempted to claim his life like they did so many others with spawn and biodroids getting to his knees he gripped his helmet and tossed it to the side shattering the ruined wood door or what was left of it The room was full of the dead remains of 8 biodroids. Staring up at the heavens he let out a ghostly wail not that of the force but of the anguish of a man who will never know death but only the death of others and the pain it brings to himself a wail that could instill fear or sorrow. a wail that in most cases wouldn't be possible if it weren't for his biosuit. Rising to his feet the black smoke replacing the blue and even red glow that once attached itself to his bones as he looked outwards to those who fired the guns moments ago the tank and APC's under heavy fire after taking two turret nests.

"You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the Grim Reaper. Will you all keep me waiting don't worry cause I'm coming for you all." looking for auras he would spot a few in the upper floors of one of the many buildings nearby. Using the force he would force dash and jump across the ground and rubble before entering the lower floors on the building and igniting his saber. "pray to whatever gods you worship for mercy. Because I will have none!" Ty shouted from the lower floors as he made his way up the steps his protosaber cutting down troopers with such speed before pulling his heavy pistol barrel stuffing a few more before they too tasted his blade. He forgot just how Empowering giving in felt but he knows why he didn't often. this beast is not him This is the monster he tried to bury so many times.

 

[Gallius Orcana]

ALLIES | NIO | GA | Savoh Muska | Fiolette Fortan | Scourge Harz | Naier Rambeigh | Var Koon | Gordon | Dracken Pryce |
ENNEMIES | TSE | EE | CIS | Seela Leini | Moff Drybis Lyken | Grand Moff Aut-X | Onrai |


NIV PRIDE OF THE EMPEROR

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THIRD FLEET

"Incoming ennemy dreadnoughts ! yelled Lieutenant Jax, monitoring the radars of the ship. He began to show signs of tension as the Sith fleet was reacting to the Cuirassier's incursion. They had almost made it, they were at kilometers of emerging from the SIth nebula of vessels. But now, one of the flottillas was slowly closing onto the lone cruiser. The damages were being more and more worrying as another portion of the vessel was drained of its air in order to prevent yet another fire from occurring.

Gallius was impassive seeing the dire situation he threw his ship into. He tried to focus on his intution in order to get the best of the situation. Suddenly he opened his eyes and saw the massive dreadnought blocking the way of his over-accelerating ship. Calmly, he joined his Lieutenant and gave his instructions, his low voice contrasting with the panicked glares the other officers gave him. He could taste the fear of every man on the ship, knowing they were going to die ten minutes after engaging the battle.
"Concentrate all fire on the dreadnought ahead. It is the only way out of this trap. They're trying to circle us but our speed can be a double-bladed sword.
- But... We are going to ram this dreadnought ! We'll all die, without even scratching them ! a young ensign told, his jaw almost chattering from the stress he experienced
Gallius gave him a severe look before answering. "It's a question of patience, officer. Our timing must be perfect or we will effectively die."

The crew was not relieved at all when it heared the answer of their OC. In fact, the tension was becoming so great some lost all their means and sat down because their legs were no longer supporting them. On other levels of the ship, the gunners were doing their best against the dreadnought but eroding its shields seemed to take forever. Wounded were brought to the last medical stations still active, as technicians were trying to reopen some sections of the ship where air had been emptied. The overall situation was pretty grim, but still the horrendous damages and casualties did not slow the ship that much. Fear and fanaticism were driving the crew much better than an inspirational speech could have done.

Gallius overlooked the state of his ship, and began the countdown that would put him out of the Sith fleet. It was at Sullust, did he recall, that a similar tactic had been used. Some officers had destroyed ennemy ships by ramming them at point blank range. Time did not stop, however, and the deck officers continued to monitor their stations. Sometimes, their yells reached the ears of Gallius, who payed attention to them.
"The medical station on deck 8 has been airlocked !
"Rear shields at 18% !
"We lost all radars and radios !

The Captain knew his ship was taking too much at a time. The jamming of communications was quite unusual, but it meant no one on this orbit could communicate. With no communications to monitor, Gallius's head was a bit relieved. But he did not allow distraction to flow in. He concentrated on his ship, the moment, the perfect moment to move. The distance between the two ships was reducing faster and faster, and Orcana was still looking coldly to the Whelm. He was waiting, waiting for the perfect opportunity. It was at a precise moment that Gallius shouted an order, a maneuver he learnt as a young Sith officer to escape such traps.

"Vertical thrusters, full speed ! We are going up ! To every gun, open fire on the bridge ! Oracana yelled. He was not foolish enough to ram a battleship three times the size of his own vessel at that speed. But what he could do was spot a weak spot of the ennemy's ship. The exposed bridge was something no government had ever teken away of their ships. If his calculations were rights, the Pride of the Emperor would fly above the bridge, leaving it exposed to maximum fire from the Cuirassier. Then, while no radars were up, the cruiser would slip off their hands and be out of the Sith fleet, free to join the imperial vessels.

The young ensign that had some jaw-chattering problems was assigned to the thrusters monitoring. And his state of panick made him react late, ruining every calculation of Gallius. He pulled the thrusters up one or two seconds after the order came, and at this speed, it was unforgivable. The low agility of the Cuirassier made him react late. In Orcana's mind and calculations, the cruiser would fly above the battleship, keeping a small distance between the bridge and the belly of each ship. But blast it, Gallius thought, the ensign had ruined everything. The perfectly timed move was transforming itself in a catastrophic last resort action that would cost very much to the Pride of the Emperor. The nose of the Cuirassier flew up slowly, and at point blank range, it was clear the cruiser would not have finished his movement before it rammed the bridge of the Sith vessel. A proximity alert ringged on the deck as every crew member watched in horror the Cuirassier rush to the Sovereign and ram it at full speed, crashing its armored nose on the exposed bridge every imperial ship featured.

"All power to the forward shields ! Everyone brace for impact ! an officer ordered, throwing himself against a blast door he could hold on.

THEME​

Gallius chose to hang on the nearest holoterminal, in a manner he could observe the exterior of the ship while being securely braced. What he saw was magnificent in a way : the Cuirassier was impossible to stop, to dodge or to destroy at that time. The only thing the dreadnought could do was to evacuate its crew from the deck and wait for impact. The loss of the bridge would not paralyse the Whelm for long if they did feature a secondary brige, but it would be enough for the Cuirassier to escape. Then, that battleship would be as severly damaged as the Cuirassier, and Gallius would call it a victory as he would deal blow for blow but manage to pass the Sith armada and reinforce the Imperial fleet.

For what it mattered, this daring move could also be a catastrophic disaster that would deprive the capital of its reinforcements and kill him, but Gallius was overlooking the potential defeat. He had promised he would take a Sith head in the battle, and he was doing. The only thing he regretted, was the jammed communications that prevented him from jesting his victim and rejoycing from his cries.

But with the stakes so high for him and his crew, Gallius was not concerned of his whim being satisfied or not. He stared at the ennemy warship until the belly of the Pride of the Emperor masked it. Then, he closed his eyes and waited for the thick nose of his ship to pierce the bridge of the Sovereign...