Invasion Return the Blade | COV Invasion of TSC-held Humbarine

[Darion of Myrkr]

BELLY OF THE BEAST
TAG: Quinn Varanin // Iris Beroya (just confirming succesful bombing)

Darion of Myrkr heard the missiles before he saw them. They came down out of the sky like falling stars and struck the enemy position squarely. The avenue shook beneath his boots. Dust and smoke rose in a great cloud and with them stone and steel and pieces of men. For a moment all these things hung in the air together and then fell back to the broken street.

The starfighters passed overhead with a great tearing roar.

Varo raised a thumbs up toward the sky then commed Strill Squadron and informed them of their succesful bombing run.

Then they started forward, the five Mandalorians running toward the drifting dust.

Halfway across the avenue a shadow passed over them and the sunlight vanished. Darion paid it no heed at first. There was always smoke in war and smoke could darken any sky. Then he saw the crimson lightning. It rose from the ruins of the checkpoint and climbed into the heavens in twisting forks and the clouds gathered with unnatural speed and the sky darkened and thunder rolled above the city.

The Mandalorians stopped.

A bolt of red lightning broke away from the storm and curved through the air like a striking serpent and hit the wall of the building where they had sheltered only moments before and shattered stone across the street.

All five rifles came up as the smoke drifted apart and out of it came a woman clad in black armor and in one hand she carried a staff and around the fingers of the other danced small red fires that crackled and spat.

The landing zone was still far ahead.

There was no other road.

Darion knew then what must be done.

He looked to Varo.

"Brother."

"Aye."

"Take the men and go through the buildings. Find a way forward."

Varo shook his head.

"Nay. We shall stand together."

"It cannot be."

"Why?"

"Because one of us must hold this one at bay."

Varo was silent.

Then he said, "And why art thou the one?"

"Because thus I said."

Varo cursed softly.

"May Harangir take thee."

"And thee also, brother." Darion said. "Remember, thou die only once."

Then Darion fired his jetpack. He rose above the street in a burst of flame and smoke and opened fire as he climbed. Blaster bolts streaked downward toward the black-armored figure.

Below him Varo stood for a moment watching. Then he turned and motioned to the others.

"Come. What passes, passes. We go."

The four Mandalorians disappeared into the shelter of the building while Darion climbed into the darkening sky and kept firing bursts of blaster bolts upon the mysterious enemy.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Humbraine - The Governorate Armory

Equipment:
Knight Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

Ace watched Varin's transformation unfold in silence. The screaming, the fire, the armor crumbling away in molten flakes, and the horns forcing their way from Varin's skull while something vast and hungry unfurled behind him in smoke and flame.

For a brief moment, Ace's eyes flicked toward Tamsin. Was this her? The thought vanished as quickly as it came. It didn't matter. What mattered was the bloodlust radiating from Varin through the Force.

The moment the Black Blade pointed toward him, Ace already knew what was coming. Then Varin lunged and Ace moved instantly. The Force propelled him upward above the larger Sith crasing through the space he'd occupied moments earlier. Mid-air, Ace twisted his body and thrust his right arm forward.

A concentrated telekinetic sledgehammer erupted from his outstretched hand, compressed into a single devastating impact. The invisible strike slammed toward Varin with enough power to obliterate a starfighter.

Then came the thump and he frowned. His feet never touched the ground and his body remained suspended. For a split second he simply hung there, weightless, before his golden eyes snapped toward Tamsin. Fucking witches.

Before he could react further, another sensation swept through him. The Force wrapped around his body like invisible chains and his movements slowed.

Immediately, rage surged through him. Someone was touching him, restricting him, controlling him. The thought alone made his jaw tighten. A moment later the gravity bomb finished whatever madness it had started and reality snapped back.

The explosion erupted outward and gravity returned with brutal force. Ace dropped from the air and hit the ground in a controlled roll, coming up near Varin as debris and shattered duracrete rained through the armory.

Then he heard her.

"Well, that was FUN!" She let out a maniacal laugh. "We should do it again!"

Golden eyes immediately darted toward Tamsin. No, from the voice alone, he understood this was something wearing Tamsin. Without hesitation, Ace rolled away from Varin and moved closer to her position. His purple shoto ignited beside the blue blade already humming in his hand. He pointed one toward Tamsin, and the other remained angled toward Varin, settling into a guarded stance.

At the end of it all, Varin was still the bigger problem.

"This got anything to do with you?" The question was directed at Tamsin, but his eyes never left Varin.

Varin Mortifer | Tamsin Starfall | Arris Windrun | Lily Rhodes | Vess Sadragen​

 

[Iris Beroya]

STRILL 6 - SKIES ON FIRE
ATMOSPHERE | HUMBARINE
GOAL: Recover Alor Warnel
TAG: Emissary of Strife | Brent Warnel
GEAR: Jai'Galaar Starfighter

Music​

There was then a vicious crackle and thunderclap, and from the blackened clouds a heavy rain began. A fog accompanied it, hugging close to the broken city around the leviathan and the Dark Lord, slowly enveloping all in haze.

Rain glided off the canopy, but turned the already dark world into a haze. She and the TIE moved in a dance, weaving through the skyscrapers of the city as they maneuvered below the red lightning overhead and through a swfitly growing fog.

"I'm engaged by what can only be a Sith," he replied to Iris Beroya Iris Beroya , "Disengagement will be tricky. My comm is open, track my signal, I'll try to meet you on the roof."

"Copy, a little tied up, moving to you ASAP, Alor," Iris grunted as she fought for nose position against the TIE.

Basic Academy material told him the plague hadn't helped much in that regard either - his Avenger, based on what was once a state-of-the-art prototype designed to steal virtually every performance record to conceive of, was no slouch and more-or-less matched the Jai'Galsaar in speed and maneuverability. He caught wind as the enemy pivoted, and did the same, sacrificing a new firing line, but protecting himself from theirs, as he fought to regain his advantage.

Put new engines in a TIE, give it a better shield generator, give it new guns and new systems. Rip out the entire guts and replace them. It would work great. But at the end of the day, the design was 900 years old and up against the pinnacle of new Mandalorian design and technology.

Still... the starfighter didn't make the pilot.

And Iris was the better pilot.

Not by a leap but by bounds. She'd flown with the Crimson Aces mercenaries, galaxy renowned, and learned everything Tyrant 1 could teach her.

Who was this imperial pilot against her, she thought. Just a callsign and a flightsuit. As empty as whatever Empire he thought he still fought for.

"It's over," she spat, pulling directional jets and moving the nose so that her guns were on target, barely able to see him through the haze of the growing fog. She depressed the trigger and the guns barked, lasers peppering out toward the TIE to claw him from the skies.


Meanwhile...

Varo raised a thumbs up toward the sky then commed Strill Squadron and informed them of their succesful bombing run.

The earlier strike had been effective. Strill Squadron's refit was complete and they shrieked back into the fray from orbit, burning fast to move under the Force Storm at the edge and under its storm wall.

AMIDST THE BLUE SKIES, A LINK FROM THE PAST TO THE FUTURE.
THE SHELTERING WINGS OF THE PROTECTOR
This is an NPC Story
Emissary of Strife | Seva Beroya

///...loading
...
..
.
[[ HUMBARINE: ATMOSPHERE ]]
[[ MISSION RESUME ]]
TIME ELAPSED 00:10:01
TGT GND-AA

STARFANG WING:
Ghest Squadron | Svaper Squadron | Darkwolf 1 & 2
​

The elite pilots of Rancor and Null pit their cream-of-the-crop talent and wartime experience against artificial intelligence and Mandalorian courage.

And Mandalorian wartime experience.

The squadrons of Starfang Wing, cream-of-the-crop for Mandalorian starfighter talent, continued to fight off the imperial pilots. Durability and firepower making a difference, despite being outnumbered two to one.

But it was not without cost...

Ghest 4
«He's on my tail!»

Svaper 3
«Evade, Ghest 4!.»

Ghest 4
«I'm hit!»

Ghest 2
«Eject, Ghest 4....Ghest 4?»

Ghest Lead
«Did anyone see him bail out?»

Svaper 3
«...»

Ghest Lead
«Damn it.»

Darkwolf 1
«Can't see anything through this fog.»

AWACS Watcher
«Watcher here, yes the weather events continue. On top of the eclipse and the Force Storm there is now an unnatural fog layer rising.»

Ghest Lead
«Understood.»​

SPIRIT OF MANDA

Oversoul of the Ancestors

WITNESS US

I am the ghosts of the fallen vode. ​

Behold Humbarine, her surface wracked not only by the brave forces of the Mando'ade but by the Sith themselves. Her sun darkened by an eclipse, the air choked by a storm most foul, and the ground obscured by a hateful fog.

The beasts and warriors of the Sith obliterate the city with abandon, killing the local imperial forces without heed.

The Force gathered around him. Stone fractured. Steel bent.

The structure groaned as invisible pressure descended upon it from every direction at once. Walls folded inward. Support columns shattered. Entire floors collapsed into themselves. The building disappeared beneath a storm of debris and darkness as its foundations failed catastrophically. The destruction lasted only moments before silence reclaimed the district. Converging within his maw and consumed like a simple snack.

Tamsin's eyes closed and the demon reached out across the web as the gravity bomb went off. Incasing herself. Arris, Liliy, Vess, Varin, and Acier in a stasis field slowing their movements and creating a protective shell around them to protect them. As the Implosion reverted and twisted exploding outward with a furious vvvVVIPBOOOM!

Gravity came slamming back into the area with immense pressure shattering and destroying things in its wake. The building itself would be ripped apart, some of already shattered duracrete floor would turn to dust. Armor and bones of the dark troopers would snap and shatter.

Their agents plunder the city to sate their own personal goals.

Anet marched down the hall, passing by Sith operatives. Some were carrying records in whole boxes of chitsets, while others smashed equipment. A few civilians screamed as they were dragged throughout the building to imprisonment or execution. Her destination was the central archive, a secure room where all the Governorate's secret codes were generated and kept, military included.

And even amongst the Sith, they fight each other.

Some of the troopers began a retreat, and Varin's gaze fell on both Tamsin and Acier. Bloodlust in his eyes. His Black Blade slowly raised pointing towards them.

“Feed me more…”

Without warning, he lunged for Acier first.

But the warriors of the vode fight side by side. Even now, father and son bring glory to the Mando'ade against foes who would seek to rule a universe of suffering and pain.

"Daab!" Siv barked at Sahan through his comms

Siv's warning reached Sahan's helmet as the movement was already completing.

<Saw her.>

So much sacred Mando'ade blood spilled upon this world - consecrating the ashes of whatever remains.

Witness our struggle.

Even in death, glory. ​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber

The lunge missed Ace as he dodged skillfully out of the way. Then came the hammer. A force blast that shook him to his knees, the duracrete beneath his feet buckled and warped inward like a half sphere, cracked and crumbled.

As Varin picked himself back up, the thud sounded off, now he was being picked up. His head looked all around him to find the source, a guttural growl tearing through his throat.

His eyes locked towards Tamsin, a glare that could kill, literally.

The explosion followed ripping up the very building around them, warped metal and duracrete tore all around them, troopers decimated and broken laid lifeless upon the ground.

Varin fell to his feet. A yell leaving his throat as more flame erupted from his back. The glare still pinned on Tamsin.

His eye glowed fiercely as a beam of heated energy burst towards her.

Stop! You need to stop this!

Varin's voice sounded off in Ignati's head.

“SILENCE!”

Ignati's deep guttural voice echoed off the ruined walls and over the groans and screams of pain around them. The Blade came up towards Ace, swinging in a quick vertical arc, a blast of telekinetic energy followed behind it.

“You held control for too long boy! Look where it had gotten us!”

Acier Moonbound | Tamsin Starfall | Arris Windrun | Lily Rhodes | Vess Sadragen​

 

[Garza Inari]

ALLIES: Darth Carnifex | Meya Liefi | Kasir Dorran | Astra Sadow | Lysander von Ascania | Srina Talon | Mercy | Delvin jeth | Quinn Varanin | Eira Dyn | Meliant | Eurydice | Isobel Serraris | Efret Farr | Casimir Thorne | Riffraff Ranat |
ENEMIES: Signy Bralor | Feydrik Munin | Celt Saxon | Iris Beroya | Romul Saxon | Sahan Dragr | Jericho Dragr | Carduul Akahl | The Arkanian | Brent Warnel | Siv Dragr

The memories did not arrive as neatly as mortals imagined they would. They came without order, without chronology, and without concern for the boundaries that separated one life from another. Garza carried too many of them for such distinctions to remain intact. Every mind he consumed became part of a vast and ever-expanding archive, a collection so immense that no singular consciousness had ever been meant to contain it. New memories collided with old ones, creating strange associations that spanned centuries. A frightened Imperial courier on Humbarine reminded him of a Republic messenger he had consumed thousands of years earlier. A hidden meeting conducted beneath a city brought forth recollections of conspiracies whispered in palaces long reduced to ruins. The details changed. The people changed. Yet the patterns remained the same. As Garza moved through the city, he felt those patterns shifting beneath the surface of his mind, forming connections that no one else could have seen.

Humbarine stretched around him beneath the darkening sky. The eclipse had progressed far enough now that the city existed in a strange twilight. Emergency lighting illuminated streets that should still have been bathed in daylight. Civilian traffic had all but vanished from the districts he traversed, replaced by military vehicles and hastily erected checkpoints. The world was adapting to catastrophe in the way worlds always did. Governments scrambled to regain control. Commanders repositioned troops. Civilians sought shelter. Yet beneath all of that activity, beneath the visible response to invasion and war, another struggle was unfolding. It was quieter. More desperate. Entire networks of hidden lives were attempting to disappear before they could be found.

Garza understood their fear because he understood what was coming for them.

Death was inevitable. Every living thing eventually met it. That truth had never troubled him. What troubled him was what followed. The galaxy forgot. It always forgot. Records were lost. Histories were rewritten. Names disappeared. Entire civilizations could vanish so completely that future generations never realized they had existed at all. Time consumed everything eventually, and unlike armies or governments, it could never be fought. That was the enemy Garza had spent his existence resisting. Not death. Oblivion.

An explosion erupted against his shoulder, casting fire across nearby buildings and sending a shockwave through the surrounding streets. The attack barely registered. Another followed moments later, striking somewhere along his flank. The city continued fighting him because it knew no other response. Somewhere above, pilots tracked his movements. Somewhere beyond the skyline, artillery crews adjusted firing solutions and searched for weaknesses in a creature they could scarcely comprehend. Their efforts meant little. Garza had survived empires older than the histories those soldiers studied in their academies. He had watched continents sink beneath oceans and oceans dry into deserts. The weapons of a frightened city did not command his attention.

The silence did.

The hidden network was changing.

The memories he had gathered from the first cell revealed that immediately. Entire branches of communication had gone dark. Emergency protocols had activated. Safehouses that had existed for decades were being abandoned within hours. Individuals who had spent years constructing layers of secrecy were now destroying those same protections in desperate attempts to survive. To military commanders, these would have been signs of success. To Garza, they were signs that an entire culture had begun collapsing inward upon itself.

That was the realization that fascinated him.

The people hidden throughout Humbarine were no longer merely Imperial remnants. Time had transformed them into something else. Children had been born into secrecy. Families had adapted their traditions around concealment. Stories had been preserved and passed down through generations that had never seen the Empire whose ideals they still carried. What existed beneath the city was no longer simply an organization. It was a society. A small civilization hidden within a larger one. It possessed its own customs, histories, loyalties, and fears. Like every civilization before it, it now stood on the edge of extinction.

Garza found himself wondering whether they understood that.

Most civilizations never did.

They always believed there would be more time. Another year. Another generation. Another opportunity to preserve what mattered. The hidden people of Humbarine likely believed the same thing even now as they burned records and evacuated safehouses. They imagined survival remained possible if they moved quickly enough. Some of them might even be right. Individuals could survive. Families could survive. Yet the society they had built in secret was dying regardless. The threads connecting it together were unraveling one by one.

As he walked, new memories surfaced from those he had already consumed. Faces became names. Names became relationships. Relationships became locations. A logistics officer remembered a transit hub. A courier remembered a meeting held beneath that hub years earlier. A coordinator remembered emergency plans connected to both. Separately, the memories possessed little significance. Together, they formed a path.

Garza followed it.

The district he entered had once been a major transportation center before urban expansion rendered portions of it obsolete. To the casual observer, the structures appeared abandoned. Time and neglect had left their marks across the architecture. Yet appearances meant little. The memories within Garza painted a different picture entirely. Beneath the visible ruins lay an active refuge. Families. Coordinators. Archivists. Couriers. Entire bloodlines connected to the hidden network. They had gathered there believing themselves protected by obscurity.

Garza knew better.

Long before he physically reached the location, he could feel the panic spreading through it. Communications intensified. Evacuation routes activated. Hidden exits opened. The people below had realized they were exposed. Vehicles began emerging from concealed access points. Armed escorts rushed into position. Desperate plans formed and collapsed in rapid succession as the reality of his approach became impossible to ignore.

He did not hate them.

That was the truth none of them would ever understand.

As Garza stood above the district and gazed down upon the structures concealing them, he felt something far closer to sorrow than malice. These people had spent generations preserving a history the galaxy no longer wanted. They had protected names and traditions because they feared those things would otherwise vanish. In another life, under different circumstances, he might even have admired them.

Instead, he lowered his head.

The Force responded.

The ground trembled first. Then it cracked. The collapse spread outward in widening waves as subterranean supports failed beneath impossible pressure. Concrete shattered. Reinforced foundations buckled. Entire sections of the underground complex folded inward as if the weight of the city itself had suddenly descended upon them. Streets collapsed. Buildings sank. Dust erupted skyward in immense clouds that swallowed entire blocks.

For a few moments, the city was filled with noise.

Then came silence. Then came memory. It struck him all at once. Not dozens of separate lives. One civilization.

Children who had never seen the Empire yet knew its symbols by heart. Elderly men and women who still remembered stories told by parents and grandparents. Teachers. Couriers. Mechanics. Intelligence officers. Families who had lived hidden lives for generations. Their experiences poured into the archive in an overwhelming flood, carrying with them hopes, fears, traditions, and countless small details that would never have existed anywhere else.

Garza stood motionless amidst the settling dust. To the city around him, he had destroyed another building. To Garza, something very different had occurred. An entire chapter of history had been preserved.

The memories settled gradually into the vast archive he carried. As they did, new connections emerged. Names repeated. Faces resurfaced. References buried within one life aligned with recollections from another. Separate branches of the hidden network linked together into a larger structure. For the first time, Garza could clearly perceive the shape of what he was hunting.

And at its center stood an individual.

Not a military commander. Not a politician. Not even the leader of the network. An archivist. A keeper of names. Someone responsible for preserving the history of this hidden society. The irony was not lost on him. While others fought to destroy the network, someone within it had spent years doing precisely what Garza himself had devoted his existence to accomplishing. They had preserved stories. Recorded bloodlines. Protected memories from the erosion of time.

The newly acquired recollections revealed something else as well.

The archivist was moving.

The purge had forced them into flight. Records were being relocated. Histories transferred. Decades of accumulated knowledge gathered together in preparation for evacuation. The individual understood the danger. They knew extinction was approaching.

For the first time since arriving on Humbarine, Garza felt something resembling urgency.

The archivist mattered. Not because they possessed military importance. Not because they commanded troops. Because they carried the memory of an entire people. If they died before he reached them, much of what remained of this hidden civilization would vanish forever.

Around him, artillery continued firing. Airspeeders crossed the darkened sky. Military commanders discussed strategies for confronting the monster moving through their city. Civilians fled from his shadow as emergency sirens echoed through the streets.

Garza ignored them all.

His purpose had become clear. The hunt was no longer for cells or safehouses. It was no longer even for the remnants of an Imperial network. What he sought now was the final repository of a dying history. Somewhere ahead, hidden amongst the chaos of invasion and war, an archivist carried the accumulated memory of generations.

As darkness spread beneath the eclipse and the city trembled beneath his passing, Garza resumed his march. Behind him, another hidden chapter of Humbarine had ended. Within him, however, it endured. The voices remained. Their stories survived. Their memories would continue long after the war ended and long after every living witness had faded into dust.

Garza carried them forward as he always had, And somewhere ahead, another archive waited to be found.

However, that would have to be stalled for later. Cracking of rounds sent through the sky. Emplacements began firing upon him. These were different. Not small arms, or just standard weaponry. Weapons meant to take down heavier vessels were being shifted and aimed to him alone. A targeted assault upon his frame. The first few slammed directly into his chest. A massive step backward from the impact. Taking him off guard from what was supposed to be an easy trot through the city. Yet this was no Imperial firepower.

Garza turned to the firing cannons. Seeing the bolts of weaponry crossing the distance. Arm coming up to brace for impact. Taking a brunt of the assault for a moment. It wasn't an attack that would break him, but continued fire would be a problem. Quick thinking was required. The voices yelling out within his mind. Trying to tell him how to react from it.

Run

Fight

Hide

He couldn't choose right away, and so made a different decision. The massive frame of Garza moved through a city street. While the buildings were not quite tall enough to completely hide him, it would provide some kind of barrier. Filtering between the city streets as best he could before his eyes turned to the weaponry. Soaring left over rounds missing through where he had been to strike buildings and the ground. The Voices continued to speak. About what he should do next. What the best course of action should be. Artillery fired at him was not something he wanted to destroy the city over. At the end of the day, there had to be something left over.

A line of energy trailing over his body formed. Charging up the force. Drawing on the resonant energies in the air, and from the Eclipse. A pin point beam formed from his maw, and with a swipe of his head sent it through the building in front of him, letting it swipe over the ground to where the defensive points were firing from. Hopefully shutting them from their continued fire.

Spoiler: TLDR

Garza has discovered that the hidden Imperial cells on Humbarine are more than just remnants of an old regime—they have become a secret society with generations of history, traditions, and memories. As he consumes cell after cell, he follows a trail of memories that points toward an archivist carrying the collective history of this dying culture. While the city sees a monster rampaging through its streets, Garza sees himself as preserving a civilization before it is erased forever.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

​

Tags: Anet Raine | Astra Sadow | OPEN to any near the administrative sector​

Alchemical influence accounted for and soon to fill the building Anet targeted, A'Mia turned her attention to the administrative block in general. The campus of buildings which constituted Humbarine's logistical command center was surely crucial to maintain careful control of. Access was the first and sometimes last defense, so while the Acolyte focused on her task, the Lord Seer drifted outdoors and kept to the shadows. Ever observant.

Unmistakable markings of war echoed through the nearby environ. An eclipse most fell, the roar of Sithspawn, a notable and heady sense of dread. No to mention all the associated ruckus and flashing lights associated with killing.

Creeping up the side of the main administrative building to provide herself a vantage point, A'Mia blended the colors of her form to camouflage herself. There, the woman extended her senses to familiar points: Mercy who was solid and elegantly violent, Quinn Varanin with her innate Phobis connection which rioted in the presence of such misery as war, Srina Talon — what more needed to be said?

Those points of connection in the Weave were potent enough to anchor a metaphysical schematic, yet still A'Mia spread her senses further. She sought other familiar presences and delicately touched their minds, not intruding but making her presence known. The woman was all branching senses and leeching darkness, like a system of roots drinking up energy to ensure none escaped Sith hands. Any unused or wayward Force unclaimed by her associates was being siphoned and woven into protection around the administrative park.

As the aerosol asterpuff did its work indoors to quell resistance and increase pliancy to Sith machinations, A'Mia secured the outdoor perimeter. With access to errant darkness and her aptitude for psychological manipulation, she wove a blanket illusion over the area. The effect was twofold: it created a sense of unease in any appproaching the building, activating their hindbrain to alert them that death lay ahead if they pushed into the administrative buildings, and it also deceived the senses. By bending light and knitting together an altered image, A'Mia made it confounding to try to find the entrances to the building in the first place.

For any sufficiently powerful Force user or those with the mental fortitude enough to push through, numerous ambush predators awaited.

 

[Eurydice]

Allies: Meliant Anet Raine
Not Allies: Carduul Akahl Koda Fett

Badideabadideabadidea-!

It played over and over, like a pitiful little mantra in Eurydice's head as she huddled beside a half-shattered stone column. These Mandalorians were brutal. Sith were brutal too, but in a way that made it seem like they enjoyed the cruelty of dominance more than anything else.

Or, whatever. Eurydice wasn't a soldier. She delighted in none of this, and victory only ever brought a paper-thin sense of relief. Never joy.

The Seer ambled out from behind the jagged edge of her cover, hood drawn, shrinking into the shadows of the complex's courtyard. She felt strangely alone without Meliant, or rather, the protection that Meliant afforded her. Temporary or otherwise.

Still, she was grateful that he occupied the encroaching forces enough for her to scramble her way into the back of Humbarine's Command Center. Not the front - too much was going on there. Instead, Eurydice found herself at the unmarked door of a service entrance.

Locked, of course. A fresh wave of panic washed over her as she lifted a trembling fist to deliver two soft knocks.

No one answered, of course. It took a few long moments for Eurydice to remember that despite being an incredible coward, she was not entirely stupid. With a slow intake of breath to calm her frazzled nerves, she guided Gaspar's shadow through the hairline gaps in the door.

A few moments later, and the keypad chimed softly. The indicator flashed green, and Eurydice tore open the door, scrambled inside, then hefted her minuscule weight of body against the closing door. Once it clicked closed, locked again, she slid unceremoniously to the ground.

Then, the worm. With a grimace, she retrieved the wriggling little shadow from her sleeve and held it up to her ear.

"I'm…in," she gasped, still short of breath, unaware that Meliant did not want to be distracted while killing people. It was only now that she looked around, finding herself in the dim lighting of some storage room.

"What do I do now?"

 

[Anet Raine]

Lysander von Ascania | Meliant | Eurydice | Madrona A’Mia | Astra Sadow​

Anet locked herself in the central room. While she expected a control apparatus, what she found was so, so much more. Hidden surveillance that would make an autocrat blush. Sensors, scanners, cameras, probe droid stations, and space-to-ground satellite feeds. Oh my! It was making Anet blush! A wicked grin crept along her face.

She explored this new information as if it were a toy, but there was purpose in her decision framework. The data - even if some of it was damaged or disrupted by the invasion - gave her a very clear picture of what was going on. The enemy had secured a landing site, their forces pressed through the city, and the Imperial Garrison was a disorganized mess; the Home Guard wasn't faring much better.

Useful to know, given that the Sith Covenant was caught in the middle of a coup well underway. Anet deployed probe droids to various points across the scattered battlefield.

The first arrived at Lysander von Ascania. Anet knelt in deference as her holographic form flickered before him. <"My Lord - We have control of the administration; the Garrison and our new guests are locked in battle across the city. If I may humbly suggest... I believe it is time to bring in the cleaners."> She disconnected, trusting the Knight to carry out the task.

Her attention turned next to the command complex, the Emperor's charge. Had he succeeded? She took a deep breath and called...

 

[Efret Farr]

Mandalorians?

Interesting that they would pick a fight with a breed of Sith. Efret though that the former's religious outlook on war and the latter's conviction that peace was a lie, so struggle was certain, would have brought the factions together in respect rather than conflict, but that was evidently not where they were.

Rana, a Duros student, was the only being in the Broadcasting room as the group filed inside. The two human students took their placed on either side of the room's central table. As Riffraff set up her own workstation, Efret stood beside her.

"Time for your debut then, eh? You'll find a flow — take a look at current reports coming in and let's identify the enemy communications to scramble and which evacuees to rile up."

"Behind the scenes," she agreed. "I'm not going to speak, but I'll tell Drice what to say." She had introduced herself to him, as well as the other students and academy personnel that she had met since arriving as Nergüi, though she had given Riff her real name. The former, apotropaic name had been bestowed on her as a ward against a Darkness that one haunted her. It still followed her, absolutely—the miasma that had been melded into her mind many years ago now—but it wasn't unwelcome anymore.

She didn't want the demons to leave. They were her only real companions anymore. Though she had Sith fellows now, along with a couple of friends true or temporary, only the memories bestowed her by Malva'ikh could offer her real comfort.

Not even Casimir could give her that. The solace that she found in him, and perhaps also that which he found in her, was a function of their griefs, and not much more. Perhaps nothing more.

The name Nergüi would now protect her from the Light, just as it had saved her from the visons when everything else had failed her. Still, she was concerned that her vocoder's voice would give her away, even though it was astronomically unlikely that some who had known her as a Jedi was listening to this particular radio station.

Sith paranoia was beginning to sink its talons into her, an emotion that always accompanied the guilty mind.

Efret took up a nearby flimsiplast and began writing a message. When she was finished, she walked over to Drice and gave it to him.

He gave a nod, then leaned forward where he sat. His thumbpad depressed the push-to-talk button near his microphone before he spoke into it. :: This is HAAS with an emergency broadcast. :: he announced.

:: Do not fear the Sith Covenant, nor their allies. I repeat: do not fear the Sith Covenant or their allies. They have come to our aid, to push the Mandalorians in our streets off world, an enemy that would have had our world, our livelihoods, our shared hope for freedom. ::

As he spoke, Efret approached Riff again. She switched off her vocoder, so that the microphones wouldn't pick up even a whisper. One of the tactical advantages of kinetic language. She tapped the Ranat's shoulder to get her attention if she didn't already have it; if she did, she went straight to signing silently.

<Rebel you meet yesterday how-many?> she asked. <They restless, correct? This timing opportunity.> That was, the Mandalorian's evacuation occurring when it did. <Imperial seem weak. #THC savior.>

The rebellion on Humbarine could be weaponized against both the would-be invaders and the current government.

:: Assist the Sith in any ways you can, :: the junior bade his listeners.

Post number: 2
Tags: Riffraff Ranat Casimir Thorne​

 

[Reggie Rau]

GALAAR
GETTING TF OUT | HUMBARINE
ALLIES: Vara Rasha | Romul Saxon | Iris Beroya (and Arkanian) | Gel Karn | Koda Fett | Darion of Myrkr | Signy Bralor | Carduul Akahl | Feydrik Munin | COV
ENEMIES: TSC
ENGAGING: Lysander von Ascania
GEAR: In bio

BLOOD, TEARS, DUST​

<"Race y'there!">

"Damnit, Dog." Reggie grumbled as Vara took off before she, too, bolted after the Shistavanen, her armour's sensors working overtime to keep an eye on her blind spots.

Thank goodness for the shade of the eclipse and...

Iris Beroya 's comms cut through to warn all of them of Sith on the planet as a storm started to brew overhead as well.
"You don't say - it's not like we've been fighting them, being stuck here." Reggie grumbled to herself as she moved. At least that storm was good for extra cover - thank goodness for thermal vision in a visor

They reached cover, and then the Harpy was gone again. Reggie sighed. How in Haran was she going to keep this puppy alive? She could feel the ground shaking with the thunder of warfare - anti-aircraft cannons, thermals, repeaters and who knows what else the Sith unleashed. And this reckless Vara just barreled ahead - with injury no less.

Did she have an off-button somewhere?

<"Y'reckon we can take 'em out?">

<Slow down, Vara. Let's scope it out first. We'll need to take them out if anyone's getting off this rock, but we can't go at them headlong either. Let's circle around for a better view first for scans to go.> Reggie cautioned. She'd have to leash Vara at some point, might as well be now.

She looked around, trying to scope a route for them to view more of the AA's angles.

<This way.> she said before moving.

For a little while, they were able to move unnoticed. Manda bless the attention their vode were pulling from them. The planet's eyes were on the incoming forces and the basilisks howling overhead.

As they moved into a slightly more open area, however, Reggie could just make out the silhouettes of what was actually making the ground shake. Two monstrous creatures were moving through the city, sowing destruction as they went. She just hoped none of their actual rescuers would fall prey to them.

Then her IFF went off, being in the proximity of someone it had contact with before. Her visor turned in the direction - just in time to see the very Sith they had left behind previously, come into view.

<Shab.> Reggie swore toward Vara. <Focus on those cannons later. We need to take out this guy if we're ever gonna get out of here. Don't take to the air - that storm will waste us, but let's switch to full particle on our pistols - let that shit explode in his face if he tries to block with a blade.> she then told her.

<But Vara, when I tell you to get out of here and disable as many of the cannons as you can, then you do it. Don't wait for me.> she warned coldly, suddenly fully the Foundling's mentor. <You leave when I tell you to, no questions, savvy?>

Then she flew from their cover, both pistols drawn and golden bolts flying directly at Lysander von Ascania 's head.

"Time to die, shabuir!" her metallic voice sounded through the voccoder, no longer fearing since her armour was donned.

She would let him face Haran itself before she let him get another blade on the Covenant's first Foundling.​

 

[Srina Talon]

OBJECTIVE: 1 [Belly of the Beast]
LOCATION: Humbarine City [Belltower]
SITH ALLIES: Mercy
SITH ENEMIES: Imperial Scum/Faithless - Iron Covenant? Siv Dragr | Sahan Dragr

Mercy did always keep her promises.

The soft affection was in direct conflict with the almost unhinged aggression that erupted from the Titan whilst she crossed the expanse of the belltower like a natural disaster. The flame-haired woman was unconcerned with all manner of missiles, poison, smoke, or the increasingly elaborate collection of weapons being produced by these two Mandalorians. She had blood running down her back, fire in her eyes, and no kriffing idea what she was getting into…But Mercy never wavered.

The pale Echani supposed her earlier words were correct, given this context. Fight…Until they died.

It really was that simple.

Srina still spared the giantess more attention than their opponents, but that didn’t mean that she was unaware of them. It wasn’t because she had to, or needed to, but because she wanted to. There were precious few people left in the galaxy capable of surprising her.

Fewer still could make her smile.

Mercy, somehow, managed both…Even while trying to beat a man bloody.

There was a tremble in the distance, a hulking silhouette that she had not seen in quite some time. Briefly...She wondered what he was looking for among the masses. Garza Inari was not humanoid by any stretch of the imagination....But he was still her son. Beyond that, she sensed the familiarity of the Hordemother, and with every passing moment, this city felt more like an enclosed cradle. Surrounded by her weave... Madrona A’Mia was everywhere intermingled with fear-filled crimson lightning. Her beloved children were closing ranks. The song that Srina had threaded into the air still lingered in phantom bursts, whispering to them, even though the sound no longer came from her. It was in the wind, in the sky...She called to them.

To purge the Faithless. To crush all who opposed them.

Her attention sharpened abruptly when she realized that the younger Mandalorian ( Sahan Dragr ) had brought something clever. It earned some modicum of respect until golden eyes settled on the small device through the drifting haze. Were her senses not Echani, she likely would have missed it, but fascination born of irony hit her like a train. Not because she feared it…But because she recognized it. The White Noise. Many spent their lives searching for ways to attack a Force wielder. They built stronger weapons. Better armor. Developed more efficient methods of killing the body…

This machine attacked an assumption, the invisible miracle that existed between flesh and power. Her thoughts turned toward an elegant study full of half-finished schematics. To conversations held late in the evening beside workbenches that were cluttered with impossibilities. To a man whose brilliance frequently bordered on recklessness, to a man who was filled with a particular sort of curiosity....A particular sort that often proved to be more dangerous than outright malice could ever hope to be.

She knew this weapon, this, ND-013—Because her husband created it.

The absolute ridiculousness of using something made by Darth Empyrean against her was…

A slow breath passed through her rebreather, the sound almost weary. None of that mattered. All she needed to focus on in the moment was where the White Noise was pointed. Mercy.

Of course it was. They didn’t know it was pointed at the wrong woman.

The first grenade struck the stone floor and skipped, then another. The canisters tumbled across frost-laden cracks before erupting into fresh clouds of white smoke. The wind changed, and the same currents she had been feeding caught the dispersing cloud before it could properly settle. Some of it lingered, and some did not, but her eyes never left the space where Siv Dragr should have been. She couldn’t see him well visually for a moment, but nothing had changed within his armor.

She could still feel his absence. See the shape of what was missing, dead, to her.

Hear his voice.

Srina expected that he would press the advantage and attack, but instead…He didn’t. He hovered. Speaking.

"Not here for Imperials," he growled. "I'm here for the Sith. For you."

“…Here I am.”

His people called her mother, and yet he seemed entirely ignorant. The seemingly young woman was well aware of the weaponry trained on her, vibrospines extended, but the lull was strange.

"You should cover your face," he added with a snarl. "Leaving their eyes unprotected didn't go so well for the last Sith."

The statement about “eyes” was unnecessary, and unless he had chosen this venue to personally tell her she ought to wear a bag over her head—It was a snarl meant to elicit some kind of response. He remained three meters away, close enough that she could see her reflection staring back at her from his visor. The thread seemed to catch, slowly, as Darth Empyrean was already on her mind. They were using his equipment, after all. Her expression never changed, but her eyes seemed to turn hollow.

There was no anger—If anything, there was a flicker of grief.

“…You are in my way…”

The words emerged softly, almost conversationally light…But then the tower exploded.

Not gradually, not in pieces, but all at once. The floor beneath Siv Dragr burst upward in a forest of alchemized ice. Crystal spears tore through stone and mortar before shattering apart in a spray of razor-edged frost. The cold filled every seam, every weakness left by time, by Mercy slamming into it and forced the structure to blow violently apart. The staircase cracked, and the tower’s spine snapped. The frost crept over everything, causing corpses to shatter and burst in a chain reaction that hastened the destruction. The giant bell broke loose with a horrid, terrible clang, and disappeared into the churning city below…A sound that rolled through Humbarine like something feral and wounded.

That was the moment, beneath a blood-black sky, that the curse finally took root. Between an eclipse, the storm-ridden sky, and an actual monster on the horizon...The ground-quaking explosion of the tower and subsequent shockwave stirred a million frightened minds, and they supplied all that was required. That was all it took for terror to tip the scales, to overwhelm, and cause Humbarine City to turn on itself.

Just the cry of a broken bell.

Spoiler: Equpiment

Armour Saber Ring Ring Terentatek Body Gloves HG-54 "The Vora" Class Hand Cannon Holding Aces Popper NPC Units (On Standby) Drake "Vaelcryx" (On Standby)

 

[Koda Fett]

It was all a continuous march, one foot in front of the other. The surface shook with the thunderous steps of these great beasts and their wanton destruction, and the skies became laden with thick fog and the violent strikes of Sith-made lightning. It was a bore, almost. In the reflection of his T-visor was a sight seen a hundred, thousand times before. He did not like the battlefield, but then again, Fett was no soldier.

With battle lines drawn, it was a push and pull. A tug of war. He did not like the tug.

His blaster carbine ran hot, a swift and harsh volley of thoom, thoom, thoom! erupted out the end of the barrel and a steaming plastoid pile assembled before him. Imperial blaster fire found him, with shots weaved aside as much as the same bolts crashed into his dense beskar armour to middling results.

Though his movements felt sluggish, slow, heavy. Then, he could not move. The hairs on the nape of his neck rose, gooseflesh rose up; he knew, the Force. The realisation came with a sudden jerk, hoisted off the ground and into the air, sent hurtling towards the once Manda’alor. Possibly still, for Koda knew little of the ongoings between the zealots and the Empire. A burst of flames ignited, propelling him from the direction of Carduul at the last moment, though he became a heap of rolling, thudding armour as he skittered across the battlefield.

“Urng,” he groaned, climbing back up, “Come on.”

In turn, a barrage of miniature wrist-missiles took flight from his vambrace soared towards the Sith.

Carduul Akahl The Arkanian Meliant Isobel Serraris

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Engaging: Reggie Rau
Anet Raine Astra Sadow Darth Carnifex
Nightstar
​

Though the city's industrial heart the dark silhouette advanced. Black robes billowed like the Force storm's wrath. The sirens tore through it all as if mourning a world on the brink of collapse.

The first arrived at Lysander von Ascania. Anet knelt in deference as her holographic form flickered before him. <"My Lord - We have control of the administration; the Garrison and our new guests are locked in battle across the city. If I may humbly suggest... I believe it is time to bring in the cleaners."> She disconnected, trusting the Knight to carry out the task.

Muscles tensed and released, driving him forward, though pace eased just enough to focus. Narrowed golden eyes flicked beneath shadowed brows. "Efficient as always, Anet. The operation shall proceed. Maintain the feed."

Then, like mist dissolving at dawn, the hologram blinked out. Combs of light replaced the growing darkness as an encrypted channel came to life next. On the other end was the commander of the Legion under his personal directive, stationed near polluted wastes outside the city.

"Lord Ascania. The Legion is standing by."

"Legate Korr. It is time. Secure choke points, neutralize Governorate loyalists, and cut off all escape routes. Pacify the city. No resistance survives."

A breath before Lysander added, colder, "Detachment Three will divert to Astra for the undercity sweep. You will honor her directives."

"Understood, my Lord. Detachment Three will report to Astra's command. First breach in five minutes."

Whether that broke the hierarchal command or not, was something he'd deal with later. They were obedient, and if nothing else, wise enough to listen.

The channel snapped closed once more. Darkness closed in and whispered death. Fingers danced against the controls, slicing into his frequency with Astra Sadow .

"Shadow. Detachment Three is reassigned to your operational command so that you may secure the undercity. Clear the corridors for my advan--"

The sentence shattered midair. Cold thunder erupted in his skull, a spike of dread. There was no time to hesitate. An instinctive pivot followed as golden bolts screamed through the air.

Then she flew from their cover, both pistols drawn and golden bolts flying directly at Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania 's head.

"Time to die, shabuir!" her metallic voice sounded through the voccoder, no longer fearing since her armour was donned.

Instinct propelled him sideways by several more paces, so that he might abandon the patch of ground that would've have paved his end. His focus darted ahead, scanning the lattice of girders and pipes. Reflex summoned Nightstar, ready for a dance blade and blood might favor should this foe desire close-quarters. The other hand rose, power gathering. From palm to metal, a telekinetic tempest erupted outward. The blonde's flesh and bone recoiled. Along the way bolts shuddered in their nests, framework screaming. Dust plumed along the trajectory, which was a barricade where he believed the attacker to be. Potentially more than one, if he had to guess. Whether it struck them or only the place they had been remained to be seen..

 

[Yolaghun]

STAR DRAGON
OBJECTIVE 2: CRACK THE SHELL
LOCATION: Humbarine Orbit | Exterior of the Spirit Breaker
ALLIES: Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Seva Beroya | Mythos Fleet | Iron Covenant
ENEMIES: Humbarine Defense Fleet | Imperial Forces​

Spoiler: GEAR

Armor: Drahr'gam, Krayt Round Shield
Weapon: Drahr'kad​

The Imperial fighters had begun to yield ground around the Spirit Breaker.

Not retreating. Not yet. Their formations were shifting toward the wider battle, breaking away from the derelict destroyer in uneven waves as fresh priorities dragged them toward the vessels passing between Humbarine and the waiting fleets above it. Enough remained behind to harry the boarding corridor and punish anything that strayed too far from the protection of the Basilisk screen. They were still dangerous. They were simply no longer pressing their advantage with the same intensity.

Yolaghun intended to give them no opportunity to reconsider.

A Predator-class fighter swept across his path with its cannons flashing. Yolaghun rolled beneath the incoming fire, folded one wing tightly against his armored body, and twisted through the void with a speed that belied his size. The fighter tried to correct its course. It was not quick enough. His talons closed around one of its wings and tore through metal as momentum carried him past it, leaving the crippled vessel tumbling away into the debris field.

Two more hostile signatures closed behind him. White-blue plasma gathered between his teeth before his armor finished marking their approach. Yolaghun turned sharply and released the breath weapon in a brilliant arc through the darkness. One fighter vanished into the flare. The second broke hard away from it, only to find a Basilisk war droid already waiting along its new trajectory. Turret fire raked across the TIE's hull in rapid bursts and sent it spiraling away from the boarding route trailing molten fragments.

The remaining nearby fighters scattered before the young dragon and the circling Basilisks could close around them. Yolaghun followed long enough to make certain they understood the warning, then slowed. His purpose was not to chase every Imperial vessel across the skies of Humbarine. Seva Beroya had given him a duty, and the warriors aboard the Spirit Breaker still required the path behind him more than the fleeing pilots required his claws.

He turned back toward the wounded destroyer. The Covenant vessels continued to strain against its descent. Stasis distortions rippled faintly along its vast armored surface while the Copad and the ships answering the Hammer-Hand's call fought gravity with engines and machinery. The Spirit Breaker still loomed against the planet beneath it, scarred and failing but not yet lost.

The sensation Yolaghun had noticed earlier remained. It had grown stronger. Spicier. That same sharp, almost sweet edge beneath it was now more difficult to ignore. His armor confirmed the change with warning glyphs and rising measurements, but the instruments still felt strangely distant beside the instinctive awareness pressing against his senses.

Something within the destroyer continued to worsen.

Yolaghun drifted closer to the hull as another shudder traveled through the vessel. He felt the vibration through the plating before it faded into the surrounding silence. His talons settled carefully against the battered armor, not gripping hard enough to damage it further. He did not know precisely what was happening within the ship, or how far the Hammer-Hand and his warriors had progressed. He only knew that they remained aboard while the danger beneath his claws continued to build.

Without entirely understanding why, Yolaghun shifted along the exterior toward the place where the strange impression felt strongest. He remained outside the vessel, close enough to guard the boarding route and far enough from the embedded pods to avoid obstructing any evacuation. The Basilisks circled nearby, their turrets tracking the enemy fighters still lurking beyond the debris.

Yolaghun opened a channel. <The Hammer-Hand. The vessel grows worse. Do you require aid getting your men clear? A distraction or an extraction, perhaps? Or do you require more time?>

He closed the channel and turned his attention back toward the approaching fighters. White-blue plasma began to gather behind his teeth once more. Whatever answer came, he would be ready.
​

TAGS: OPEN
Kjartan Hammer-Hand Seva Beroya Romul Saxon ​

 

[Astra Sadow]

Lysander von Ascania | Anet Raine | Madrona A’Mia | Eurydice | Open
​

A leathery crack preceded a red figure vanishing from the spot she'd occupied in the street. Sudden movement drew the eyes of those watching. By the time their eyes fell on where a dark figure had been, however, it was already gone only for it to happen again higher up the exterior of the administrative center.

As Madrona A’Mia 's essence infused itself with the structure and her field of deception fell over it, Astra appeared near its peak. Not a moment was spared to look out over the city from a balcony as she strode into the interior of the building. There was nothing more to see. Fires born of battle, or a slow-but-steady trampling of a gargantuan and hungry beast, the crackle of lightning spears from the sky beneath a cloak of darkness a standing alchemical circle sought to blanket the hapless masses from annihilation. More devastation that pose great risk to their long-term plans for Humbarine, but devastation in and of itself did not need her to admire it. It simply was.

Anet was probably somewhere cloistered away with the planet's gear. Which left Astra free reign to occupy its high office, and the terminal with which the Governor had enjoyed before Anet's earlier arrival.

A gloved finger toggle the interface on just before a slicing crystal was inserted. The system should be even easier to access what with Anet Raine 's tampering elsewhere and no doubt lack of concern for an allied person piggybacking on it. She might grow curious, however -- perhaps even annoyed -- if Astra's efforts were discovered. Which was precisely why Astra's crystal had been preprogrammed to search out key personnel and financial records. Classified blueprints were also on the menu.

Lysander von Ascania 's voice had Astra conjure the commlink from her side once more. His reiteration of the plan was cut short, however. Worthy adversary, perhaps. The Force seemed to say as much. The man wouldn't be as easy a prey as his opponent must have believed.

Crystal retrieved with the retrieved data stored in its matrix, Astra started back the way she'd come. She stopped at the threshold to the balcony and turned her head aside. Ah, of course, she thought. There was always another way. Always that connection. A mirthless smirk drew back one corner of her lips.

Rather than return to the sharp and foul winds outdoors choked with the scents of war and carnage, Astra started in the opposite direction. Not toward the corridor out which Anet had passed for her spoils. To the other side of the room. Her palm slowly swept over the wood paneling for a moment. When she felt it catch on the otherwise, a slight twist of the wrist popped the lock.

The panel came ajar, and Astra pulled it open to reveal a hidden hallway to a lift. A governor should have a concealed way of having special visitors come and go shouldn't they? Perhaps even an escape route if there were time -- time Anet had not given them.

Moments later the doors slid open to reveal a stoneworked passageway that had never felt the touch of the sun. Unlit it was every bit a crypt kept clean only so that those special visitors didn't feel disrespected. Astra wondered what servants had been given that task, and if they survived long in that role.

"Detachment Three, this is Shadow Lord, track and redezvous at my location."

Where else should such a place go but a hidden exit? And, more importantly, to the undercity. Some visitors really did have all the right connections. Had. Gone now, much as they would be before the day was out.

Glareshades | Clothing | Jacket | Vest | Tie | Gauntlets | Belt | Boots | Broadsaber
Holdout Blaster | CommLink | Dagger​

 

[Signy Bralor]

SIGNY BRALOR
HUMBARINE | OBJECTIVE 1
TAG: Meya Liefi
GEAR: Huginn and Muninn, Beskar'gam, jetpack, spear, energy buckler
VISIBLY PRESENTING: Fully armoured

A response crackled back towards Signy on her comm.

<<Noted little wolf, head one klick north to rendezvous.

Do not head east, repeat do not head east, the inner city is compromised.

the Sith are destroying the city...>>

<<Huh? Sorry.... please confirm. Why?>>

<<Confirmed, Sith are using multple catastrophic powers on the local populace, do not head east.>>

Signy shook her head, the level of carnage being wrought on their own citizens, and they wondered why people like hers thought the galaxy would be better with them gone.

She looked up and saw only white crystalising ice around her. The sith was trying to entomb her while she was distracted. A fine layer of ice had reached up into a dome about her, she could see the fading light from the storm and the eclipse on the other side. She clicked her wrist and a flat white blade of plasma extended from her wrist and Meya Liefi would see the light from the plasma beskad puch through the ice. With a spin, Signy sliced cleanly through the ice, causing the top part of the dome to lose integrity and rain shards of iced down onto her. She jumped on her repulsors and landed on a nearby outcropping taking quick stock of her surroundings. Her HUD had updated to her new extraction route.

"Listen, if you wanna make me your kid or something, pretty sure Dad's single at the moment." she laughed. Presenting the Sith to the Alor tied up and in handcuffs would put a smile on his face either way. She Kjartan Hammer-Hand might treat her to the brig, or the airlock?

"Want to come and meet him?" she laighed mockingly as she jumped again, this time landing much closer to the Sith. She pulled out her spear and shield and activated her Harrower in the direction of the Sith, unleashing a scream like wave of sonic energy.
​

 

[Delvin jeth]

Equipment: Lightsaber, 1 vial of rakghoul plague, 1 vial of black wing virus, basic armor, cloak

Mandalorian enemies: Andras Garon / open
Sith allies: open



Delvin quickly found himself thick in Mandalorian territory as he still held the blood covered Mandalorian helm. As he finished examining it tossing it aside as he began walking towards the thickest combat slaying mandalorians using a combination of sith sorcery and lightsaber combat. As he whent not capturing any as for right now as he walked as the sounds of combat roared around him.

The arkanian geneticist didnt revel in any of it the mandalorian invaders Where a sickness on this planet that needed to be cleansed. And he was glad to assist with the eradication of the armored menace one dead mando at a time.

 

[Eira Dyn]

Objective: 1 - Slaughter the Mandalorians
Armour: Marwolaeth Ddu
Armour Configuration: War
Equipment: Lethal Pursuers, Vibrosword
Tag: Brent Warnel

Eira's strikes were not the precise blows that she wanted but information was gathered. He was a sharp fighter, the fogsense had not covered her attack as effectively as it should have and that meant he had some minor form of Force Nullification. It was interesting, not surprising but interesting since she didn't notice any of the obvious nullifications. But her strike had landed a debilitating blow to the Mandalorian, a dangerous gash like that in a fight would only weaken the arm and do further damage. There was a smile behind her mask as she knew that this was a fight that leaned in her favour heavily now.

For a moment Eira could hear the voice of Srina Talon in the air. It was soft, soothing and clearly a sign of absolute demonic chaos coming. It felt similar to a previous war where Srina unleashed a powerful curse upon the Galactic Alliance. Echnos... That had been the battle. Back when Eira had first joined the Sith. Back when she carried nothing significant on her person and could barely keep up in a fight with a soldier. Now Eira strove to dominate. To inflict fear so deep that this Mandalorian knew there was no hope. No surviving this. That the gravest of errors had been performed by them and that this was only the beginning of their end.

She saw the high elbow coming in for her head, the assassin trusted in her armour enough to shift forward. Striking at the elbow with a defensive headbutt, aiming to prevent the elbow gaining enough swinging momentum to really be of any danger. As the vibroblade extended from his wrist, Eira audibly laughed. The daggers dropped to the ground as her hand gripped the forearm that was attempting to stab her. The crushgauntlet squeezing the arm as tightly as the enhanced strength could. Then from her own vambrace on her free arm came her own vibrodagger.

The arm then stabbed fast and hard into the stomach of the Mandalorian. Prepared to do a twisting motion if she got the chance to penetrate. A deadly move form the assassin as she stared callously at the Mandalorian. Laughing at his predictability and at the coincidence that she had a very similar tactic with her own vibroblade. She was not going to let him leave this planet. Not while she was having so much fun.

 

[Vara Rasha]

THE FOUNDLING
Humbarine | Planetside, Nondescript Part of the City
Equipment: In Bio
Allies: COV | Reggie Rau | Romul Saxon | Gel Karn | Koda Fett | Darion of Myrkr | Signy Bralor | Carduul Akahl | Feydrik Munin
Enemies: TSC
Engaging: Lysander von Ascania

Exfiltration​

On the prowl.

The dark and malignant skies offered them protection. Vara stalked the ravaged ruins as if she were a predator drawn by the scent of fresh-spilled sanguine. Fleeting flashes of crimson struck from the dark clouds above her, amidst the dogfights of TIE’s and Jai’Galaar’s. A downpour followed. Fog slowly billowed in the streets. Thick columns of acid-green tracers continued to exchange with the Mythos Fleet.

The object of her focus stood starkly amongst the chaos. A lone planetary defense battery in the distance, perched atop a highrise. Her lips peeled back to a crooked smile.

Reprisal. Revenge.

Now was the time to strike back! No longer did they need to hide – that had already proven to be one day too much to bear for the Harpy.

<Slow down, Vara. Let's scope it out first. We'll need to take them out if anyone's getting off this rock, but we can't go at them headlong either. Let's circle around for a better view first for scans to go.> Reggie cautioned.

More waiting around. More foot-dragging. It wasn’t the time for either, and her refusal came sharp.

Her commlink flared with a sharp puff of air from her snout. Her maw parted before she could stop herself. <“You do that, you’d slow me down anyway!”> The Harpy snapped. She felt her stomach sink the next draw of breath – her own vitriol brought her to a pause before the comlink flared again with her distinct cackle, only nervous and evading this time.

Her sharp ears flattened. Kark… Red was right; she wasn’t going to be of use to anyone if her saga was cut by the stem and so soon. And she knew that.

<This way.> she said before moving.

She brushed aside the swell of regret in her core – something to be unpacked later. The world around her snapped back into focus. Boots scraped to a halt. The durasteel backplate of her glove clamped on the corner. The buttstock cradled firm in her shoulder pocket, grasp tight around the handguard. The muzzle brake followed Vara’s sweeping gaze across the street.

<”Clear. Gopherit.”> Reggie powered past her. The rubble shifted under Vara’s boots. The Harpy abandoned cover, quickly following her mentor’s lead into battle waged all around them.

Their target in the distance grew larger as they left the ruins behind them. Sprinting through a patch of opening in the urban forest, she caught something in the corner of her eyes. Distant, almost one with the horizon. It stood tall amongst the buildings. And with its stature, she was about to chalk it up to a strange looking skyscraper at first glance.

But then it moved.

The image magnified in her HUD at a precise blink. Her pace slowed and her maw slackened; a lizard-like monstrosity as tall as the buildings surrounding it. Its scales, jagged and spiked and black as soot ( Garza Inari ). <”What the kark-..?”> The Foundling murmured, tone hushed in her reluctance to get its attention, even when it was so far away. Her gaze locked on it as she ran, watching it finish devouring an entire building, and then, she witnessed flashes of energy dance along its thick hide.

Its maw parted after a moment, and then-..

The sudden outburst of light and energy cut through the din in a near-deafening shriek. <”Motherkarker!”> Squinting, she looked away as the light expelled the night for a brief moment, before darkness swallowed the city once again.

The beast —for all its might and the destruction it wrought— faded away from her attention as something more pressing threaded into her focus.

A red light flashed in her HUD. <”Chit, contact.”> she hissed, picking up the same signature in her IFF as Reggie. Instinct took over, and she sharply made for cover with her mentor. Crouched, her rifle shouldered and ready, she faced the point of contact.

<Shab.> Reggie swore toward Vara. <Focus on those cannons later. We need to take out this guy if we're ever gonna get out of here. Don't take to the air - that storm will waste us, but let's switch to full particle on our pistols - let that shit explode in his face if he tries to block with a blade.> she then told her.

<But Vara, when I tell you to get out of here and disable as many of the cannons as you can, then you do it. Don't wait for me.> she warned coldly, suddenly fully the Foundling's mentor.

Her crimsons blew apart. <”What!”> The woman’s faceplate snapped to meet hers. <”Sis, if you think I’m just gonna leave you with that sonuva-..”>

<You leave when I tell you to, no questions, savvy?>

She left no room for argument.

The silence was brief amidst the distant cacophony of war around them. A pull of breath lashed between her fangs. Muscles drew taut under her bodyglove. Something hollow dared grow in her core, only to be crushed beneath the next breath she dragged into her lungs. Her glare shifted back towards the Sith, beyond the vine-like clusters of pipes and girders. A nod followed.

<”Let’s waste ‘em!”>

Then, Vara moved.

Her palm slammed on the ferrocrete barrier. In one fluid motion, she vaulted it as Reggie dashed out of cover. The stock of her rifle snapped into her shoulder before she even landed. Crimson eyes locked onto the Sith beyond the tangled lattice of pipes and girders.

She surged into a sprint.

Not toward him.

Around him.

The muzzle snapped towards him and tracked his movement. Her digit bit down on the trigger, and she fired.

Not on single shot, but on automatic, the rifle hammering against her shoulder and vibrating through her arms with every shot. A barrage of sizzling red particle bolts snapped at him in the same moment as a shockwave rippled past her in a rolling cloud of dust, pulverizing where they stood a moment ago.

The hail of blaster bolts did not relent. The Harpy pressed on, a hand shifting back on the handguard for another trigger at the same time. A squeeze, and a deep thump barked from beneath the barrel. Carrying enough explosive to tear a man apart, the grenade streaked through the latticework of pipes, aimed not at the Sith himself, but at the patch of ferrocrete beneath him.

A crooked grin curled beneath her helm as she angled for his flank, forcing him to split his attention between her advance and Reggie’s assault from the front.

The trap was closing.


​

 

[Emissary of Strife]

NPC ENGAGEMENT: Iris Beroya | IRON COVENANT
Force Hydra
​

The Baron's Avenger braced for a few hits, straining his deflector shields, but not yet breaking them. He managed to maneuver away from the wider burst of fire and was quite surprised that they managed the sudden angle despite his best efforts. In that, however, an opportunity opened - the Avenger fell in directly behind the Jai'Galaar, at a fairly close distance.

"Good - but not good enough," he proclaimed to himself alone, in assessment of the other pilot.

A storm of lasers erupted from the Avenger's cannons, aimed at the starboard strut, which held the Jai'Galaar's large wing to the central structure.

The bulk of their spaceborne squadrons would focus on picking off Mandalorian ships landing on and leaving the planet. Their predictable trajectories made them a vulnerable target to the speedy and maneuverable TIEs.

As Strill Squadron returned to the fight below, they would find themselves hounded by numerous Predator and Interceptor-type TIEs. The Defense Fleet had reorganized into a full blockade of their own planet, concentrating efforts on closing the space to and from Humbarine City. The Imperial pilots, though not as skilled as Force Hydra, had numbers on their side and closed in from above the Mandalorian fighters as they made for below the storm.

Null and Rancor continued to dance with Starfang Wing, with aid from anti-air cannons below. However, the imperial elites were still outnumbered in the airspace, slowly trickling down as another Null or Rancor fighter bit the dust. Their silhouettes danced in the darkness with sudden bursts of plasma and engine fire.

​