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

[Mercy]

OBJECTIVE: 1 [Belly of the Beast]
LOCATION: Humbarine City [Belltower]
ALLY: Srina Talon
TARGET: Siv Dragr | Sahan Dragr

Her fist connected satisfyingly with the mandalorian’s chestplate, but it didn’t have the crunch Mercy had gotten used to when she smashed someone’s chest in. The inertial dampers of his beskar’gam whined in protest as their first guest was thrown out of the belltower and back into the sky.

His friend wasn’t sitting around knitting either.

Even as the floor shuddered in response to Garza 's trundle through the city, the second Mandalorian attempted to use Mercy’s momentum against her. It might have worked too, if he had created some distance between the two.

Instead he remained close. Relying on another technological attempt to cut Mercy off from the Force and immediately run her through with his vibrospines. It would have worked on a regular Sith. Even on an experienced Sith Lord the combo was vicious and effective.

But Mercy was not normal.

Her entire specialization in the Force was total and complete mastery of herself. Her body, to the very cell, was her domain. So it was that when the fancy gadget tried to force Mercy’s cells to apoptosis, her cells said: No, thank you.

They enjoyed living very much and weren’t about to commit ritual suicide.

So instead of the vibrospines cutting through her flesh like paper, they got caught by a hide that was as durable as beskar itself.

And then Mercy smashed her golden fist into his helmet. The strength that destroyed the Imperial Palace Courtyard on Coruscant simply by landing there was turned to ripping his head off clean.

Sadly Mercy would not get to see the results of her handiwork.

Srina was getting upset. Mercy, as a rule, had little skill in the pursuits of mentalism and empathy. But when her battle-sister was getting irate, she felt it like fire in her veins, it was the only warning the Empress of the Core got before the tower exploded around them.

Mercy was thrown back.

Unlike last time… Srina and Mercy had fought battle after battle together. It was instinct that caused her to immediately home in on the exact sound of Srina’s heartbeat. Her sestra was falling and it wasn’t clear to Mercy if she was in the presence of mind to arrest her own movement. Once again the Empress did not think. She simply moved by instinct, using the broken and ripped apart pieces of stonework as platforms. Mercy vaulted from one to the other, racing quickly, until she managed to catch Srina mid-fall. Her arms wrapped around her form and enveloped her in her protective grasp. “I got you.” Mercy murmured to Srina as the large woman made sure she didn’t die a second time from her accidental neglect.

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.

The ritual erupted into full swing now.

It infected the minds nearest to the collapsing belltower first. As the structure broke down, the large bell was ripped from its hinges, beginning to crash through the streets below and leaving a path of violence behind.

In the midst of this all the Graspborn were activated. It was @Arris Windrun’s plan to take over Humbarine from the inside, to destroy the Imperial caretaker government and assume direct control of it. But it worked well with the plans that Srina and Mercy had concocted together, to wipe out the last Imperial remnants that had hurt those that Srina loved.

While Lysander von Ascania 's legionnaires marched into the streets and began to wage open battle against Mandalorian and Imperial alike, the Graspborn started to slaughter the Imperial security forces that were keeping the civilians corralled. It was as if they had become possessed by the same rage virus that Srina had unleashed onto the streets. Like a tide they came down on the security forces that had already been stretched thin by Mandalorian incursion and the surprise arrival of Lysander’s legionnaires.

Within the span of minutes the Martial Law Ordinance that kept civilians cordoned off and ‘safe’ collapsed.

Humbarine civilians spilled out onto the streets and were met by Srina’s curse. It ravaged their minds and turned them into violent beasts that would set upon anything that moved.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Mercy whispered to Srina as she set her fellow Empress down on the ground. Kissing her on the head again. But sadly the Sith Lord could not enjoy the sight for too long.

There was still a battle to wage and her senses were heightened to the extreme. Taking in the sky to find the small Mandalorian figures, painted on the backdrop of the eclipse, and two storms seemingly colliding with one another.

The handiwork of Quinn Varanin and Darth Carnifex .

 

[Vess Sadragen]

The First thing Vess could recognize was the enormous pressure wave from the gravity bomb, crushing. Then the detonation hit like a fist against her chest, the shockwave rapidly flowing around whatever shield protected them. Dust and pulverized duracrete rained down through the fractured ceiling. Somewhere nearby, a support strut groaned under new weight it had never been designed to carry.

She remembered the cigarette pressed between her fingers. With everything that had gone on, she nearly forgot Arris had handed it to her; she brought it to her lips with a shaky hand, taking a long breath, a subtle cough as she breathed it in.

The smoke hit differently than she expected. It spread through her chest like warm water finding level, and the edges of everything that had been screaming for the last several minutes softened by a fraction. The fear didn't vanish. But it stopped feeling like it was standing on her throat.

A second breath left her steadier than the first.

She was still holding the shield around Lily's mind. She could feel the effort of it even now, the mental equivalent of a clenched fist, trembling with the strain of being held too long and built too fast. She turned to look at Lily standing, eyes clear, a sturdy expression that hadn't been there when she'd been on the floor. Whatever had happened, Lily had found her way to the other side of it.

Vess let go. Carefully, the way you release a held breath. The shield dissolved, and the effort drained out of her all at once, leaving something loose in its place. She squeezed Lily's hand once. Fast and tight.


"Be right back," she said simply, still a job to do, assuming everything was intact. She was already moving, taking another drag as she went. Behind her, barely audible over the groan of stressed durasteel, she caught Arris's parting remark about her not being half bad. She didn't slow down. She hit the threshold of the control room and caught the doorframe to swing herself inside. The mainframe stood waiting. Banks of servers, indicator lights blinking green, steady and indifferent to the destruction surrounding them. Vess moved to the mainframe and pressed her hand gently against it, sliding her datapike into the access port.

Mecha-deru was the difference between picking a lock and simply understanding the lock well enough that it opened itself. She pressed her awareness into the system the way she'd been trained, reading the architecture before she touched anything. Security layers, data structures she could feel the logic of before she ever pulled a file.

The network opened up wider than she expected, and she went still. Tactical feeds flooded in all at once, a torrent of live data that the Imperial network was no longer disciplined enough to contain. She moved through it the way she'd been trained: don't react, read, but what she found made that discipline work harder than it should have.

The belltower was gone. She caught it first in a structural alert, then confirmed it in a security feed already corrupted with static at the edges: the tower collapsing across the street in a cascading ruin of stone and ancient durasteel, and somewhere in the middle of it, the bell itself.

The containment zones were failing. Graspborn agents were carving through the security cordons with the kind of efficiency that didn't leave room for survivors, and the civilians penned inside those zones weren't waiting to see what came next. They were pouring into the streets, thousands of them, and something was wrong with the way they were moving. The feeds showed them turning on anyone they encountered, Imperial or otherwise, with a ferocity that didn't belong to fear. It belonged to something older and uglier, something that had been put into them from outside.

And through all of it, moving in organized columns against the grain of the chaos, Covenant soldiers. The Sith Covenant's troops had fully breached the city's outer districts and were now in open street combat, pushing through intersections still choked with smoke and debris, engaging Imperial holdouts and mandalorians. The Imperial grip on Humbarine was not loosening. It was shattering, sector by sector, in real time.

Vess sat with all of it for three seconds. Then she flagged the feeds and kept pulling.

The mission hadn't changed. The building was half destroyed, the city was tearing itself apart, and something vast and terrible was still sitting in the Force above all of it like a stormfront that hadn't finished breaking. None of that was her problem right now. The mainframe was.

​

TAG: Lily Rhodes Arris Windrun Acier Moonbound Varin Mortifer Tamsin Starfall

 

[Arris Windrun]

Lily Rhodes Vess Sadragen Tamsin Starfall Varin Mortifer Acier Moonbound
Down & Out
​

Arris caught Lily's warning - that the others were compromised. But then there was a sudden change in pressure, and an eruption of dust and duracrete shrapnel. She didn't even register the protective field placed around her, Lily, and Vess, or the room they were in. Just the explosion, the deafening blast, the destruction of everything they had come to take...

Well, almost everything. To their luck, that field included the databank behind them. To Windrun's luck, more specifically, Lily didn't lie when she said Vess was an expert. Already, she could sense the slicer's mind pouring into the computer. Another technopath? Well, that was a surprise, but not the thought she lingered on.

No, chaos had a way of upsetting everything. For her, self-preservation and the Dark Side won out, and that hatred she kept rigid like her spine now hemorrhaged in palpable waves of the Force.

She saw the other three, exposed now that the building was all but collapsed. Varin and Tamsin were loose, and Ace... much harder to read, but she could sense the violence radiating off of him. Unlike them, however, Arris wasn't prone to bow and lick the boots of her baser impulses anymore. Which is exactly why she was now looking down on them.

She clenched one fist so hard that the metal casing around her cybernetic hand cracked. Anger, directed at the three, erupted from the cyborg's emulator: A Dark Side-fueled scream to sheath her words in rage.

"Enough!"
​

She put her foot forward, bringing it down with enough force to send a shockwave of debris towards them. Her deep breath that followed literally chilled the air, crystallising the water in a steady stream of iceflakes that fluttered down with the ash.

"Are you each so pathetic?! Was it a mistake to see you as equals?! Because if any of you are Knights of the Covenant, then we are left severely wanting."

Her cracked hand pointed now, finger straight, towards the sound of Sith troops marching some street over. "We have a city to take!"

She looked over her shoulder at Vess and Lily. "Finish up here and get that fuckin' data to the Resistance. I want them and these imperials bleeding out by storm's end."

Her last glance was for Acier, her apprentice. Disappointment.

Arris turned to leave the... Well, what used to be a building, but she stopped, staring up at the storm-filled sky. Imperial fighters dancing in battle with strange ships of an unfamiliar design. Her eyes followed the horizon, spotting Garza , a monster of titanic proportions she had never seen before. Hopefully, on their side.

As the structure broke down, the large bell was ripped from its hinges, beginning to crash through the streets below and leaving a path of violence behind.

Her head turned with the movement of a bell, rolling down the empty, debris-ridden street, riddled with enough dents and coated in blood to suggest that it left behind a trail of victims.

"Well, shit." Arris drew her pistols and walked down the street.

Whether the others got it together to join her? That was up to them: babysitting wasn't on the Triumvir's docket.

 

[Vesper Thrace]

TSC HELLMOUTH-CLASS BATTLECRUISER MOTHER MERCY
NETHERSPACE - EN ROUTE TO HUMBARINE - ARRIVAL T-68 SECONDS
[VIBES]​

"Not too late to change your mind, Cap."

The voice belonged to a cheeky helmsman who Vesper Thrace had on good authority had laid a wager with a communications specialist that Vesper would change course before they erupted from whatever fucky band of Netherworld space ferried them inexorably toward their destination. That the pirate, whose reputation was a love of money more than an ideological call and who, ipso facto, must therefore be a coward, would certainly put an end to what she herself had called a suicide run less than an hour before.

"Give it up, Banderos," Vesper said, watching the countdown timer on the combat information center's main command table. "Is too late. Besides, you think I'm going to go cap in hand to Mercy and explain how I was afraid we might die? She says this thing is safe, then it's safe." Vesper paused, straightening a little. She was slight, but the gesture made her seem somehow taller.

"Granted, she didn't say it's safe. But still." Her dark eyes fixed on the command table, where the number in the corner was racing toward zero. "Still probably safe. Besides, better off crashing there than trying to escape here. Who the hell knows where we'd end up?"

Indeed, the shadows and shades of the Netheworld had replaced -- or perhaps, more accurately, supplemented -- the mottle of hyperspace in ghostly hues of colors for which she had no names.

"Still," Banderos muttered, nodding at the table, where some sensor data had fed a rough outline of the battle at Humbarine. "Right in the middle? It's risky."

Vesper ran a hand along her sleek hair, tied back into a severe braided bun. A self-soothing gesture, a reminder that she was still there after all. "Enough, Banderos. You lose, que? Now unless you have something to say about the coming battle, put a lid on it." Banderos fell silent and lowered his attention to his battlestation. Vesper turned to Tavi Corvask . "Now or never. Do or die." A pause and she reached over to pat his arm. "I say now. And I say do."

As if she had said a magic word, there was a rippling out the front viewport as space-time tore and the Netherworld deposited Mother Mercy at the center of the advancing invader line, angled at a slight angle from north-northwest. Head on, but relying on the element of surprise and its highly fortified structure for resilience. Mother Mercy was at the head of a squadron, using its Netheric Gate Engine to inject a squadron of Tu'kata-class Sith Raiders and some light escorts. But the main dish was the Mother Mercy, it's sharp prow thirsting for blood. Well, more ship plating and the fluid that came in ships. Ship blood more than blood blood.

As planned, the Mother Mercy came in like a cat landing among the pigeons. "Shields up at maximum," Vesper ordered. "Fire at will and call your targets. I repeat: open fire. And tell the Raiders they may reave and raid at their will. An extra share to the first Raiders to successfully board each ship!" Vesper clasped her hands behind her back, watching as the ship's sensors pulled in all the data it could, sharpening the images on the tactical display.

"And for fuck sake, let's ram something!" She pointed directly ahead with her whole palm like a blade, at one of the Mandalorian capital ships hanging large in the viewport. She grinned a bloodthirsty grin and leaned forward, seizing the railing of the command post as if bellowing orders to a real ship in the spray of the sea. "That one will do. All ahead full and damn the torpedoes!"

The engines flared as the Mother Mercy gathered more speed, lurching into the battle, in pursuit of its first kill of the day.

___________________________________________________________________

Allies: Sith | Tavi Corvask
Enemies: Mandalorian Fleets | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Seva Beroya | Romul Saxon
Please let me know if I missed to tag you ​

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Feydrik Munin
​

Within a beat of his black heart the crimson blade found Beskar. A provocation if nothing else. Instincts fired the very moment his left biceps was locked. Hips dropped, the trapped arm rotating inward, trying to drive a forearm inside the Mandalorian's elbow with what grappling skills he could summon. Though striking had always been his preferred base. The Sangnir widened his base and reached for the collarbone. By the time a foot hooked behind the heel.. it was already too late. The ground received him hard

Storm lit skies painted the clouds in whites and purples, corrupted by the presence of his brethren. Perhaps, if he were to die here, then this was an honest sky to judge him.

Hundreds of battles, all survived; being put on one's back only increased his appetite. Rising, the hunger burned cold and bright behind the eyes. Nearly forgotten, that feeling. Being handled.. but not outmatched. That was a distinction worth honoring; the thousands of corpses of his past were evidence enough that few could have managed even this.

Suffering was a whetstone. That was the Sith catechism. Here on Humbarine, the ancient blade of him was finally finding its edge..

The Mandalorian awakened something in him that most battles rarely hit.. a desire to earn the kill.

Vertebra restacked as the body straightened; the ache in his spine was a seam of heat. Breath returned shallow at first. But from there he crouched slowly, and pressed his palm flat against the ground. Fingers spread, then curled, nails combing through grit. The wintery anger moved, traveling down his arm, pooling in the knuckles. Thin arcs of lightning snapped between the fingers. Dust lifted from the ground. The stone beneath began to glow at the cracks. Blue first, then deepening toward something brighter.

The shockwave left his palm and disappeared into the earth. For one suspended second there was nothing. Then the ground bucked. A fracture line began racing across the distance that separated them. Along the way, sparks spit upward and erupted in a wall of light.

 

[Eurydice]

Meliant Anet Raine Madrona A’Mia Astra Sadow
​

Eurydice suppressed a gag as the worm wiggled unpleasantly. And then, audible as only the faintest whisper, it replied: "Go fiiiiiind… Anet. The blue woman. She was supposed to be up to… Somethiiiiing…"

There was no telepathy involved. It was a literal piece of Hasuras Na-Amoun and it could talk more-or-less as he could.

The worm was hurriedly stuffed back into her sleeve, and Eurydice clambered up from the floor. She had her orders, and that was enough for her. The layers of duracrete between her and a Humbarine battlefield were appreciated, too.

Any modicum of relief she felt quickly fell away at the sounds of blaster fire and screaming. With trembling fingers, Eurydice directed Gaspar to investigate, and the liquid shadow dispersed himself through the door.

Through her connection to the sithspawn, Eurydice watched as Covenant troopers laid waste to imperial forces. It was a sight she could never quite get used to, but the nausea that bubbled in her gut was familiar. At least, they were winning against Humbarine itself.

Against the Mandalorians? She didn't know, but the Force felt warped and violated in the same way that it always did when the titans of the Sith sought to make a show of things.

The Seer kept her steps light and her slight figure hidden in shadow as she crept from the storage room and down a network of service corridors. That was, until she rounded a corner marked with Sith troopers and imperial bodies. Eurydice raised her left hand in surrender when several blasters trained themselves on her.

"Both hands," a modulated voice demanded.

Eurydice wriggled her right shoulder, shifting the billowing fabric of her sleeve enough so that they could get the picture.

"I only have the one," she insisted. "I…I am the acolyte Lord Meliant put in charge." Eurydice took a deep breath, scraped the bottom of the barrel for any courage she possessed, and injected it into her voice .

"Direct me to Anet Raine."

Written with a bit o help from Meliant

 

[Anet Raine]

Direct: Eurydice | Madrona A’Mia | Astra Sadow
Equipment: Mask | Robes | Lightsaber​

She tapped her foot impatiently. "Pick up. Pick up. Pic--" Finally! There was a click on the other side.

The Sith Acolyte had prepared herself to receive the words of Meliant , the Emperor himself, but there was just this... Was it frightful, heavy breathing? Disruption? Anet wasn't sure what to make of it. But given there wasn't a groveling imperial officer on the other end, she figured that meant it was someone on her side. Street-view showed their people had breached the building, anyway.

"Hmm," was the first sound that shattered the silence from her end. "Whoever you are, this is Acolyte Raine. Now listen well. I am linking the command center into the city's wider spy network."

Redundant viewscreens in the command room, where Eurydice must have been taken, flickered on, displaying various feeds from ground-based sensors and cameras, as well as satellite-based telemetry (what good that would do with the storm, but better than nothing).

"Our troops have entered the city, largely unimpeded thanks to the chaos. However... I dare say the Triumvirate will not be pleased if most of these Mandalorians go unscathed. Their landing ships have been coming and going for some time."

Reticles flashed into existence, painting various areas within the city where landing zones had been established. She didn't need to feed them the skyview, after all, they were already tracking the movement of starships in the atmosphere and in orbit.

"I need all anti-air fire directed on their troop ships, and precise artillery strikes brought down on their landing zones. Every time one of their little dropships touches the ground, you light it up. Easy as that."

Maybe it was the spores she breathed in, but Anet was absolutely delighted by this newfound control. Command made her feel all warm--

"Oh. Who are you? I need a name so I know who to praise or scorn, depending on the results."

Her eyes momentarily turned to another screen, revealing scores of data readouts. 'Why, you little corpo thief,' Anet mused to herself with a smirk. It seemed Shadow was getting her hands dirty. Shame she couldn't be there for it.

Anet continued to relay data to the Sith Legion that marched across the city, while keeping the line open for the scared acolyte if she needed it.

 

[Meya Liefi]

Tag: Signy Bralor
GEAR: EMP Grenade x 4, Ion blaster Pistol, Dual-Phase lightsaber x 2

Spoiler: Mortyra's Armour

Primarily black, built around armourweave that preserves mobility while providing additional protection under the main armour. The design is her own, though brought to life and refined through the work of various armourers over the years as it was repeatedly altered and upgraded to suit her changing needs. Each alteration maintains the same purpose: avoiding excessive weight and favouring freedom of movement over the restrictions of heavier battlefield armour.

It includes a sealed beskar helmet with a pure-black finish, originally taken from the first Mandalorian she overcame and later redesigned to suit her own purposes. Among its modifications is an integrated HUD capable of cycling through low-light and thermal vision modes. The helmet contains filtration systems to protect against smoke, airborne contaminants, and various toxins, alongside a voice changer/modulator that distorts her speech.

Chest plates made from beskar protect her most vital areas, while lightweight duraplast plating covers the remaining sections of her torso.

The most carefully protected sections are her hands, wrists, and forearms, where segmented beskar plates are attached over her gloves. The plating is designed as articulated reinforcement rather than heavy gauntlets, overlapping like protective scales to preserve flexibility and fine control.

A black cloak is commonly worn over the armour.

​

Despite cooling the area to the point that frost and ice already coated much of it, it appeared Mortyra could not form ice quickly enough to meaningfully hinder the mandalorian's movements. The woman reacted with remarkable speed, escaping the forming prison before it could fully serve its intended purpose. The observation was noted and immediately incorporated into Mortyra's calculations.

Ignoring the woman's words--something she was well-known for, another part of her personality meant to push others away--one hand moved slightly toward her belt.

When the mandalorian started her second jump, Mortyra used the Force to discreetly activate the countdown of an EMP grenade, and kept track of the timer in her mind. At the same time, she moved forward calmly, stopping less than two meters from the woman as she neared the ground.

As the mandalorian landed, Mortyra erected a Force Bubble around the woman, a technique she was not unaccustomed to employing. The logic was simple. If the mandalorian intended to answer with immediate aggression, the barrier could possibly provide Mortyra with a brief moment of protection.

With this, the Harrower’s destructive waves bounced off the bubble for the brief moment it was erected, deflected back at the mandalorian before Mortyra disappeared in a plume of green mist.

Only her EMP grenade remained behind, detonating in the air within a heartbeat.

EMP weaponry was known to be particularly destructive to electronics, including those integrated throughout mandalorian armor, which is why she had brought some.

Mortyra reappeared behind a section of ruined debris farther from the mandalorian's position. For cover, and possibly to cause temporary confusion.

Meanwhile, her creature had already become aware of the additional mandalorians nearby and continued tracking them through whatever senses Mortyra had woven into it.

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

Theme: Heathens
Equipment: Twin Omens | Combat Knife | Talisman | Multi-Tool | Mind Crown | Jacket (Black) | Armor | War Paint
TAGS: Arris Windrun | Acier Moonbound | Lily Rhodes | Varin Mortifer | Vess Sadragen

"Knife to your throat already"

The demon remarked mentally to the child with in as it stared up at the lost Dathomiri child with his shoto in her direction.

"There isn't even honor among sisters and brothers."

It remarked once more to Tamsin who was forced to listen to the demon's every word as Acier Moonbound demanded an answer if it was responsible for this. It noted Aciers eyes did not move from Varin, the dragon blooded.

"You see, child when two people get very drunk and no one brings protection babies happen. I am not one of the two drunk cousins who created him. Yet if you mean the explosion, yeah but it wasn't my best work."

It smirked but it only lasted a moment as the bull in the wreckage of the armory began its charge once more. The Demon's eyes caught the Dragon with in's eyes for a split second. A world destroyer and world eater, two destructive forces. The Dragon a destroyer by nature, and the demon a destroyer by nurture. Both forces could work together but it was inevitable that they would collide in time.

As fire raged from the dragon's eyes and burned a path through the thick stormy air to the demon, an ancient witch in reality raised the right arm and hand of Tamsin. Today would not be the collision of forces. As the demon witch reached out and her palm opened, she started to pull in the fiery energy blast with Tutaminis.

As fiery magick ripped through the air, it got pulled into the palm, flames erupted around the hand. The right arm of the armor Tamsin was wearing began to crack apart and flake away into ash. As the flames that had erupted around her hand seeped into he veins along her arm and began to burst.

The demon's teeth gritted and she growled. "errrrrrrrrugh!" As she tried to control it tried to stop it from spreading. It didn't matter how much power she had fed on, it didn't matter how many spells she had learned, and it didn't matter how much knowledge she knew she could never master the flame. Pain racked her and Tamsin's shared body as the armor burned to ash all the way up her arm, as the blood vessel burst with flames erupting from them. She could not hold it, and dissipate it, the flames were eating through her.

Tamsin's body shook violently as the demon in Tamsin's skin dropped to her knees. The demon knew if she continued to hold it, she was liable to explode herself completely. She couldn't let that happen as the skin of her arm now black with flames erupting from it. On her knees she reached out with her left hand pointed towards the ground and began to discharge the flame into a whirling ball of violet ichor. The demon snarled and hissed as the flames in the right arm began to die down.

The glove of the left hand shattered into fragmented pieces as the ichor ball transformed into a ball of ice shot forward towards Varin Mortifer . For a moment their was a reprieve, but just a second as a shattering scream echoed through the air. Shattering the face plate of the mask Tamsin wore, revealing her painted face once more with the eerie eyes full of fury.

"Enough!"

Those words echoed as it was followed up by a forceful stomp of fragmented debris splintering into the deadened burnt arm and exposed painted face of Tamsin. Blood began to roll down her face as she slammed hard into the ground. It was then the Demon chose to retreat; it could have stayed and fought but this was Tamsin's lesson to learn. She let all the pain flood into Tamsin, to wash over her. The bright suns for eyes dimmed and as the girl was returned to the forefront.

Tamsin laid there as behemoths stood about her. She could not feel anything in her right arm but cold numbness, she could feel the rain fall onto her bloodied face. Like an exposed nerve every drop that fell on her with thundering striking pain.

"Are you each so pathetic?! Was it a mistake to see you as equals?! Because if any of you are Knights of the Covenant, then we are left severely wanting."

Those words ripped through her, worse than the pain she felt. All she ever wanted was to be like her sister, respected and beloved by so many. She was nothing, a broken slave playing warlord. Trying to fit into a world she had been thrust into by a person who had abandoned her. She remembered that first time she had noticed it, the foundation of the covenant. Her sister was standing tall at the alter in defiance, and she had chosen to walk away then. She knew then she was a monster inside, one they could never control. She did not fit their mold, because she had been created to destroy.

"I saved them, I let them live. Look up into the city." Tamsin's eyes shifted up towards the city from the ground where she had been staring. Seeing a giant dragon Garza rampaging through the city. She saw building crumble and fall and the bell tower shatter at Srina Talon call. Then up further the combining violent storms of Darth Carnifex and Quinn Varanin . "This very world could be ripped apart by this power. Every goal the cyborg has set in motion is meaningless in this hellscape. The resistant won't fight because they have two tyrants to choose between. One that destroys and one that enslaves, neither life is worth fighting for." A cold chill of numbness began to wash over Tamsin as she listened to the words in her head trying to understand what the demon was getting at.

"Yet as the cyborgs plans fade, there will only be one target for blame. Only one will find judgement for the destruction. It won't be Emperor's and Empresses, nor will it be the giant rampaging the streets. Sith do what they always do kneel to power above themselves and condemn those they see as pathetic and beneath them. The Plan failed before it even started but they will never accept that. Now get up and fight, not for them but because I will not die here on this chit hole of planet." As the demon spoke to Tamsin tears began to roll down her face as she lay there on the broken ground of the armory. She slowly pushed herself up a little bit with her good arm and looked to Arris as she walked away. She could feel soldier forces moving in on their location.

"What's left to even fight for? Who would even stay to fight for this?" She asked more to herself than anyone around her. "It's just devastation. Not liberation." She muttered through her tears.

​

 

[Romul Saxon]

W A R M A S T E R
Humbarine

[] Burden of Sacrifice []

Objective: Establish a Landing Zone for Mandalorian extraction​

Allies: Celt Saxon | Iris Beroya | Mandalorians
Enemies: Darth Carnifex | Lysander von Ascania | Garza | Anet Raine | Sith

Romul stood his ground directly in the path of the beast. Overhead, thunder clapped; the storm had begun to crescendo. Romul tilted his helmet upward, watching as swirling dark clouds began to grow overhead. Lightning flashed, red, briefly painting everything in bright crimson light, as the first drops of rain began to smack against his armor, against the cracked ferrocrete pavement beneath him. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, allowing himself to simply be in the moment. Hell had descended upon Humbarine, and her name was not Mandalorian.

According to Romul's orders, the Mandalorians had dug into their positions. All watched the monstrous leviathan as it continued its rumbling path through the city. "Alor--" Hectus's voice crackled over the comms once more. The Force Storm was interfering with communications. Their transmissions were more clipped, and static threatened to obscure their messages entirely. "-- acting strange. Outer fringes are engaging with hostiles."

Romul pressed a finger against the holotransciever in his helmet, straining to try and amplify the transmission. "Hectur, repeat."

A pause, then Hectur came back more clearly. "Unknown hostiles -- they appear to be non-combatants -- have begun to engage each other. Imperial soldiers have turned on each other, too." A second more. A burst of static. "Third hostile faction. Outmost perimeter. Stormtrooper armor, but different."

Romul's brow furrowed even as he stared down the beast lumbering towards them in the distance. "Maintain the perimeter. Engage all hostiles, weapons free. Anything auretti dies," he ordered brutally. Hectur affirmed. "Rena, status?"

"We have recovered three surviving recon teams. Escorting them now towards the LZ," Rena's voice came back through comms. "We can't get too close to the leviathan, and I have a platoon with heavy casualties also heading towards the evac point. We are maintaining flanking positions."

Romul hefted his warhammer. At his side, Dragus looked at him in inquiry. There was no doubt in the Alor'ad's gaze upon his Alor, only readiness for whatever his lord may ask of him. Romul looked at Dragus, then back out at the beast. "Begin withdrawal procedures," he commed to Rena. "Block by block." He turned to Dragus. "We need our ships back on the ground. Our objective is to get our vode out." He switched communication channels to broadcast across all Mandalorian channels. "Vode of the Iron Covenant," he thundered, his voice unmistakeable. "Unknown hostile forces -- Sith -- are spilling onto Humbarine. Noncombatants have been bewitched and are hostile. We begin our withdrawal." He switched channels to radio Carduul Akahl . "Akahl," he boomed. "What is your status?"

Dragus nodded, then began speaking into his own comms, signaling to the dropships that had carried the Mandalorians in to regroup at the landing zone they had established. All throughout the city, the storm grew worse. Fog, a dark miasma, carrying noxious, heavy vapors, had begun to roll across the ruins of the city. The Saxon commandos switched to thermals as normal vision worsened. Fog, on top of the Force Storm, on top of the eclipse, made for poor visibility conditions

The commandos around Romul scrambled to positions among the rubble, whatever afforded the most protection. The beast was enclosing and already the Mandalorians on the perimeter opened fire. Romul watched as their laser fire struck harmlessly against the beast. Yet even as the leviathan of Carnifex showed no weakness, neither did the Mandalorians cower against their odds. Jokes -- battlefield humor, dark and coarse -- rang out between the commandos. They all stood stalwart against the storm, Romul the foremost of them all.

Their courage was iron. They knew not fear, even against the most insurmountable of odds. That was what the Sith wanted. That was where they failed, even now.

"Alor," Hectur came back over comms. "Anti-aircraft emplacements have opened fire across the city. We are targeting the nearest hostile emplacements. Requesting reinforcements." Missiles and explosions thoomed all around as Mandalorians engaged the anti-aircraft across the sector. Romul nodded at a squad of commandos on the ground with him, who at once took to the skys on their jetpacks. The same request would be made towards the fighters they still had in the sky Iris Beroya .

Romul watched as combined arms fire continued to bounce harmlessly off the leviathan. He swore, not a curse, but an oath, that his creature would die by the Manda. He opened a long-range communications to the Saxon warfleet that hung in orbit high above. "Gallius, status?"

"On standby, Alor," radioed the Alor'aan.

"Do you mark the leviathan that strides toward us?" Romul boomed against the thunder of the growing storm. Rain began to spatter even harder now, drenching all the Mandalorians where they stood. Puddles, dark and ichorous, had begun to form in the craters of the battle-scared city landscape. Red lightning flashed overhead.

There was a large burst of static before Gallius's voice finally cut through. "Our sensors are having trouble piercing the storm, Alor." Another burst of static. "--blockade," the fleet commander was saying. "Only our comms are holding. We can triangulate coordinates by your transmission, but we only have your position, Alor."

Romul thought for only a moment, but in flashes, his mind considered all his options. Weighed the merit of each of them, what they stood to gain, and what they stood to lose. His beskar'gam weighed heavily on him, but heavier was the responsibility he had towards his clan. Not only his clan, but his vode. He had failed them once, on Mandalore. He had failed them once more as their Warmaster. He breathed in heavily, deliberately. Inhale. Exhale.

He looked around at his kin, his brethren, those to whom he owed everything.

What was his life, compared to that of the Manda?

His gaze snapped back to the leviathan. Dha'naast who rode it. Dragus to his right sensed the massive Mandalorian veteran tense, brace his legs. "Alor?" He asked. Dragus, though fully trusting in his Alor, for the first time in this campaign, was unsure of what his lord was about to do.

Romul turned his helm towards him. Rain streaked down his crimson and gold helmet. "Hold the line. Ensure all reach the landing zone," he ordered. The Alor's massive jetpack flared to life, bright blue exhaust kicking down against the ground as its thrust began to build, as a snake coils before it strikes. "Gallius," he roared over his comms. "Mark my position." He looked one last time at Dragus. "No vod dies alone," he boomed, louder than the storm that surrounded him. Then his jetpack fully kicked on. And upwards Romul soared.

Romul did not fear death. His mortality did not slow the speed at which he flew or the iron conviction in his heart. If on this hell-struck battlefield the Manda had decided his fate, then it would be so.

Lightning cracked through the sky, at this pointthe only illumination that pierced the heavy rain, the clouds, and the fog. If Darth Carnifex looked up -- Romul anticipated he would -- then he would see the massive warmaster descending toward him as a missile, his warhammer raised high overhead, prepared to give the ultimate killing blow towards the Sith. Lightning flashed to illuminate the massive Mandalorian warrior as he descended down.

Objective: Establish Orbital Supremacy​

Allies: Seva Beroya | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Yolaghun | Mandalorians
Enemies: Emissary of Strife | Vesper Thrace | Sith

The battle in orbit had become embittered. Cracks were beginning to form in the Imperial formation. Mandalorians pushed their advantage, unrelentless, fearless of death. Death in battle was the greatest honor, indeed the greatest fate, that could await any Mandalorian worth their beskar'gam.

AWACS Watcher
«Watcher to Mythos Fleet, there is a Force Storm over the city. There are Sith on Humbarine. I repeat, there are Sith on Humbarine.»

Gallius stood silently as he watched the retreating Imperial fleet as they began to reform position tightly against the world. They had left the orbital platform vulnerable. The solar ion cannons had charged. "Fire. Total Destruction," Gallius ordered. The Gra'tua Dral and her sister Star Destroyers thundered as their solar ionization batteries thundered in unison, firing at the shipyards. Bypassing conventional shield systems, the batteries would melt hulls and deal incredible damage. Bright explosions confirmed the inevitable. The bright light danced acrossed the Alor'aan's armor through the viewport. "What is the status of the disabled Star Destroyer?" he murmured to Ignus at his side. It had slipped from his view.

"The, ah, star dragon Yolaghun has slowed its descent. The Hammer-hand has boarded the ship. There is comm chatter that the Star Destroyer is slowly imploding." Gallius's face remained unchanged. The Hammer-hand was one of the best commanders of the fleet. He knew his duty, and so did Gallius. There was no egotistical drive for glory in the Mythos Fleet; every vod had their part to play. The Saxon warfleet would play theirs.

Comms crackled. "Alor Romul," a scann-com technician reported. A beat later, then Romul's own voice came through the comms.

"Gallius, status?"

"On standby, Alor," Gallius replied, his eyes steadfastly watching the imperial fleet.

"Do you mark the leviathan that strides toward us?"

Gallius frowned. The Force Storm was interfering with their scanners. Comms seemed to be working fine, but as the storm grew, their scanners became less and less effective. It was becoming a problem with managing the dropships that were still in atmosphere. "Our sensors are having trouble piercing the storm, Alor. The Imperials have begun to retreat, and their orbital facilities are crippled. A little more time, and we will end their blockade." He paused. He realized he had not fully answered the Alor's inquiry. "Only our comms are holding. We can triangulate coordinates by your transmission, but we only have your position, Alor."

There was a long pause. Then, "Gallius, mark my position."

Gallius did not know what Romul intended by that, but dutiful as ever the Alor'aan nodded towards scan-comm. Their position was marked. He had an inkling of what Romul would try, given the decades he had served as the Warmaster's second-in-command in nearly every battle and campaign. "Have the Haran and Kalden move into orbit," he ordered through fleet command comms. "Begin preparing turbolaser batteries for orbital bombardment. Triangulate the position of the Alor through his comms channels and await my command."

Suddenly, klaxon's blared. Where there had been empty space between the Gra'tua Dral, and the Haran and Kalden, suddenly an enourmous battlecruiser filled the small space, careening into the Tal'galar. The heavy assault cruiser broke at its tail, explosions rippling through its engines as its front crackled with electricity. "Evasive actions!" Alor'ad Ignus barked behind The Gra'tua Dral began to painstakingly swerve as the battleship began moving towards its starboard. The Star Destroyer was not by design very manueverable, but the new hostile ship did not seem to be apt at course correcting, either.

"IFF Transponders are identifying the battlecruiser as the TSC Mother Mercy." Scan-comm reported. There were several

"The haran is TSC?" Ignus openly wondered.

Gallius stared down the battlecruiser through the viewport. They drifted over the unfamiliar inisgnia emblazoned on the ship, one that very clearly did not match the Sith Order yet was obviously Sith in its design; he was well-versed in the lore of his most-hated foe. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nostriles, remaining planted where he stood. What had the Iron Covenant walked into? What had they unearthed on the most unlikely of worlds, what they had thought was at best a client state of the Empire? Force Storms, leviathans, and now this unknown fleet that had warped into their path.

He demanded answers. But the Tal'galar would not go unavenged. "Deploy all fighters. Have the Stri'liir and Sur'ar reform around the Akior." The suppresive cruiser lay behind the Gra'tua Dral and still was easily the most valuable asset the Mythos Fleet. The cruisers jamming systems were at full power, satellites having reached lagrange points unimpeded, and all comms and sensor systems not flagged prior by the Mythos Fleet priored would be harrased by the blanket static and garble that the cruiser deployed. Automative intelligent systems would attempt to interject the communications with false commands, algorithms processing the voices that spoke and imitating them, giving baseless orders that would cause confusion and, if lucky, calamity.

Gallius looked at the battlecruiser. How he longed to be able to fight warrior to warrior instead of from the bridge of the ship. But the Gra'tua Dral was a weapon far more powerful than any sort of blaster a Mandalorian could dream of. "Deploy the star anchor. Engage our armor component," he ordered The Star Destroyer's shield systems and structure would be heavily boosted by the two systems. The Star Anchor would project a weak gravitic anchor, distorting the nearby battlespace and reducing the mobility of all craft within close proximity -- the Sith battlecruiser included -- while the Haran and Kalden on the outside of the fields perimeter would be able to continue unimpeded, charging the Imperial blockade.

"You will die here," Gallius murmured darkly towards the Battlecruiser, though no enemy would hear him. "Open fire with all weapons systems. Concentrate on structural weakpoints." The Gra'tua Dral thundered to life in an awe-inspiring display of its true power, as mass driver cannons, heavy turbolaser batteries with dual-ion damage, and missile batteries erupted. Meanwhile, its solar ionization battery and siege emitter began to charge power.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

• x3 Ha'rangir-class Star Destroyers
  • Gra'tua Dral [STAR ANCHOR ENGAGED | Shields 138% | Hull 100% | ARMOR COMPONENT ENGAGED | Structure 150%] - Flagship
  • Haran [Shields 92% | Hull 100% | Structure 100%]
  • Kalden [Shields 95% | Hull 100% | Structure 100%]
• Dalab-class Strike Carrier
  • Havey'ir [Shields 90% | Hull 100% | Structure 100%]
• Ka'yatr-class Suppressive Cruiser
  • Akior [Shields 92% | Hull 100% | Structure 100%]
• x3 Brokur-class Heavy Assault Cruisers
  • Tal'galar [Shields 0% | Hull 0% | Structure 30%] Totaled
  • Stri'liir [Shields 68% | Hull 98% | Structure 100%]
  • Sur'ar [Shields 89% | Hull 100% | Structure 100%]

Spoiler: Actions

• As the orbital facilities targed in post have been left undefended by the Imperial fleet's retreat, the Ha'rangir's solar ionization batteries have all scored crippling hits.
• The Haran and Kalden are between the imperial fleet and TSC fleet, unimpeded by the gravitic distortion field deployed by the Gra'tua Dral. They are moving into low orbit for orbital bombardment, charging the imperial fleet as they do so..
• The Tal'galar has been rammed and destroyed by the Mother Mercy.
• The Havey'ir has deployed all fighter complements, which are attacking TSC fleet.
• The remaining Brokur cruisers are reforming around the Akior to protect it, all three (plus the carrier) behind the Gra'tua Dral.
• The Gra'tua Dral has deployed its star anchor, taking advantage of the extremely close positioning of TSC fleet, and armor component to reinforce defensive systems. It is opening fire with full batteries at the Mother Mercy. Solar ionization battery is recharging, and siege emitter is charging, which will be ready to fire by next post.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

The Foe: Meliant
Opponent Tags: Isobel Serraris , Eurydice
Ally Objective Tags: Feydrik Munin , The Arkanian , Iris Beroya , Darion of Myrkr , Romul Saxon , Koda Fett

Past the flash of the blade, Carduul could tell his opponent leaned towards the more nimble side of things, making maneuvers like that. Whether their bladesmanship would match up was another question altogether. He could already figure that this one did not take the situation very seriously. With a steeled gaze, his stance adjusted to a simple forwards point; the tip of the poleaxe angled diagonally towards the neck. Just as he was prepared to launch into a new assault, the uncanny motion of the arm caused his brows to furrow. In the next moment, a new barreling form was sent towards him. He knew, in that instant, that he was indeed against one of the leeches of which he sought to cast down. A Sith. How fortunate for him. “A shame I am in no mood to collect trophies. I will simply have to grant you a much-deserved end.” Came an utterance of the finished thought aloud, just as he braced for movement.

Though he did not yet see the warrior fully, he took action in the case the other did not avert their own fall. There had been a swift surge of movement, body pulling lower towards the ground with a slight tilt of his weight to deftly twist away from where the trajectories of bodies crossed. Yet, there was no such occurrence.

In the haze of battle, it was always difficult to tell friend from foe. Some used armor or uniform as their basis. Others, past relationships. Fewer used the glint in the eyes of their opponent’s gaze. The case of Koda Fett , however, was none of those. Instead, he had something unique to every being of the galaxy: reputation. As soon as the missiles flew, and in through the smoke and soot he glimpsed that tell-tale armor tumbling past, he could hardly not know who it was. There were no words needed; only action. And so from his sidelong angle, Carduul had jettisoned forwards into an arcing leap; one that had soared directly through the smoke of the missile barrage to engage with the foe once more. Intending from there to launch into an assailment, t’was the hefty blunt end of the poleaxe that had emerged from the plume of smoke to swing towards the left shoulder. A blow that could potentially crack armor, crush bone beneath it. Momentum would carry into the next strike, twisting over his head in a twirl of posture—cape billowing in the motion—to eventually bring the bladed edge into a far-reaching, low sweep across the legs with but one hand grasped upon the haft.

Around them, there had been a variety of effects to unfold upon the battlefield. Amidst that eclipsed light, storms and thunder roared overhead. Rain had begun to fall upon what was once a bright and unclouded day. And in doing so, bathed this battlefield of theirs in darkness- to fester and build upon itself. Those assaulting the Command Center had found less trained soldiers than expected, rather in-fighting to occur as some turned upon their fellow man, stricken by an unknowable dread-fueled madness. Though t’was a perplexing, harrowing sight—his warriors would stand strong in the face of adversity. For that was their purpose, the Crusader’s lot in life; to stare the abyss unflinchingly, and sharpen their knives in an effort to perpetuate their own.

The booming voice of Romul Saxon from his helmet’s communique was unmistakeable. Retreat, already. A shame. But, their job was finished. Now, the only matter was getting out of the attention they drew towards themselves. “Preoccupied with the Command Center’s defenders, Alor Saxon,” He spoke into the comms in between strikes and graceful movement. “Suffice to say, our diversion was successful. Now we need simply leave…the air defenses here seem weakened, now.” Words were shortened between steadying breaths.

As if right on cue, there had been a second crackle across a new line from his comms unit. <Alor, some of the guns have stopped firing! The troops here- something’s gone wrong…they’re fighting each other!> Came the hastened relay from one of the many communications specialists apart of the forward squads.

<“Good. Pull back and reform, towards the secured zones of our kin. We’ve done our duty. Now we shall be the last to leave our mark upon this planet upon our exit.”> All of these strategizations and orders done in stride with his foray upon his foe. To interweave mind and body; that was, after all, where a Mandalorian's skills ought lie.

Originally, he had meant to use the lack of Anti-Air armament as a means to call in fire-support for this sector. Now, it would serve a more apt purpose for the situation at the same time; preparing a closer evacuation site with less hassle from emplacements. Perhaps they would have to contend with the turbulent skies, but there was little other choice. For now, he would see to cutting down the blight standing afore him before he had to depart.

 

[Iris Beroya]

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

Music​

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.

In the best weather conditions, in open space, aiming at a specific part of an enemy starfighter moving at over 140 megalights per hour was a dubious proposition.

When weaving in and out of skyscrapers, at low altitude, with a Force Storm overhead and a foggy haze obscuring everything else... it was ludicrous.

Lasers pummeled the deflector shields, but they held. Iris had her work cut out for her just to keep from crashing into the city's terrain due to the weather. Sweat slicked her palms beneath her gloves and she could feel her heart pounding so fast it felt like it would burst out of her chest.

Then she heard the voice over the comms.

"Miss me?" said Daffid Rau.

"Five? What are you doing, I told you not to follow me through the Force Storm."

"Yeah well. I hate listening to the new guy."

Iris managed a chuckle as she spun her starfighter around a hunk of jagged durasteel and glass that was once a skyscraper. Daffid would have been the newest addition to Strill if not for her. She shook her head.

"I need to get Alor Warnel."

"Go. I'll handle this. Fox Two!" Strill 5 snapped as his jai'galar screamed back into the fight, rolling in from a cloud bank and coming right onto the enemy ace's tail. He fired off a concussion missile and it streaked toward the TIE.

Iris grunted and broke off. Ar Nine gave a sad beep. "He should be fine," she said to the droid. Strill 5 was younger than her, but he was a Mandalorian. All he did was train for this.

Following Brent Warnel 's ping, Iris broke away from the engagement and lost the two dancing starfighters in the foggy haze. She pulled her Jai'galaar to the roof of the building and settled it down on top, popping the canopy to slide out.

She could not see a damn thing through the fog bank except occasional flashes of light. The sounds reached her, slightly muffled. The chatter of blaster cannons and the thudding of artillery. Occasionally the screech of shuttles or starfighters.

"Alor Warnel," she said, "I'm on the roof. Get here."

AMIDST THE BLUE SKIES, A LINK FROM THE PAST TO THE FUTURE.
THE SHELTERING WINGS OF THE PROTECTOR
This is an NPC Story
Brent Warnel Seva Beroya Romul Saxon

///...loading
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[[ HUMBARINE: ATMOSPHERE ]]
[[ MISSION RESUME ]]
TIME ELAPSED 00:15:01
TGT GND-AA

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

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.

Each Jai'galaar squadron, composed of six starfighters, aided by the two Darkwolf Basilisks amounted to a paltry total of 14 starfighters. Less now after the fighting.

The TIEs on the other hand had had over twenty-four.

AWACS Watcher
«Watcher here, good work Starfang Wing. It appears you have reduced the enemy squadrons count and now outnumber them.»​

"Alor," Hectur came back over comms. "Anti-aircraft emplacements have opened fire across the city. We are targeting the nearest hostile emplacements. Requesting reinforcements." Missiles and explosions thoomed all around as Mandalorians engaged the anti-aircraft across the sector. Romul nodded at a squad of commandos on the ground with him, who at once took to the skys on their jetpacks. The same request would be made towards the fighters they still had in the sky Iris Beroya Iris Beroya .

The destruction of the anti-aircraft emplacements by Mandalorian supercommandos, coupled with the truly atrocious visibility conditions in the Force Storm, Force Eclipse and... Force Fog... was both a curse and a blessing to the starfighters.

Svaper 3
«Can't see the bandits in this weather.»

Ghest 2
«Same here. Losing visibility fast.»

Ghest Lead
«We can't see them. They can't see us.»
​

"Vode of the Iron Covenant," he thundered, his voice unmistakeable. "Unknown hostile forces -- Sith -- are spilling onto Humbarine. Noncombatants have been bewitched and are hostile. We begin our withdrawal."

Ghest Lead
«Shuttles departing. Our job here is almost done.»

Darkwolf 1
«Watcher, clear us a path. We will have to swing out and over the storm.»

AWACS Watcher
«Affirm. Watcher to Mythos Fleet, we need a corridor cleared for our shuttles through this blockade.»


​

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Humbraine - The Governorate Armory

Equipment:
Knight Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

The answer came quickly enough and Ace's eyes flicked briefly toward Tamsin as she spoke. So it wasn't her. Well, one problem instead of two at least.

Then the beam came. Varin's heated blast tore through the space between them and Ace moved immediately, dropping into a combat roll that carried him out of the line of fire as molten energy screamed past toward Tamsin.

The voice that followed wasn't Varin's.

“SILENCE!”

The Black Blade came for him, and both lightsaber and shoto rose together, crossing against the descending strike. The impact jarred through both arms, flesh and metal, before the telekinetic follow up crashed into him like a freight train.

Ace was thrown backward, boots gouging trenches through shattered duracrete as he skidded violently across the ruined armory. The Force wrapped around him instinctively, bleeding momentum away until he finally stopped. Still standing and still focused.

He was so focused on Varin, in fact, that he barely registered the fact the building no longer existed around them.

"Enough!"​

The Force itself seemed to detonate. Pain ripped through his ears, and ripples spread across his skin. For a split second it felt worse than Remowa's seismic charges on Rattatak.

Ace turned just in time to see Arris bring her foot down. The shockwave surged outward, and debris exploded across the ruined armory. A chunk of duracrete hurtled toward him and Ace casually swatted it aside with the Force without ever breaking stride.

Then came the lecture. The disappointment. His jaw tightened. The hypocrisy of it alone made his blood boil.

"Fuck off, Arris."

The words left him cold and immediate, but the scream had done something else. It had cut through the haze. The Threads returned and suddenly, he could feel everything.

Legionnaires moving through city streets. Mandalorians fighting and dying. Fear and rage spreading through civilians like wildfire. A massive bell rolling through the city below.

And... something enormous Garza moving in the distance. A monster, a skyscraper sized monster. Because of course there was.

Above it all crimson lightning split the sky. Quinn. Undoubtedly so now. Though this felt stronger than Coruscant, far stronger. Ace was unaware that this storm was also being fueled by Darth Carnifex .

His gaze shifted briefly toward Tamsin as she spoke again, now sounding more like herself. Part of him hated how much he agreed with her.

All this destruction. All this death. For what? No answer would come though, this would just be one more item on the long list of things Ace had forced himself to bury.

His eyes found Varin. "Get your shit together." Said simple and direct.

Then Ace turned away, not because the danger was gone. Because the mission wasn't. Blue and violet blades remained ignited as he stepped through the rubble to join Arris.

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

 

[Emissary of Strife]

NPC ENGAGEMENT: Iris Beroya | Brent Warnel | Romul Saxon | IRON COVENANT
Force Hydra
​

A pair of Rancor's own TIE Hunters fell in behind the Baron's pursuers when his dance with the enemy fighter had circled that part of the city again.

"Enough of you live, I see." He commented off-channel. Really, once locked in, Donnic had a habit of staying that way - mission parameters be damned. Yeah, Rancor had taken a heavy beating.

His starship narrowly dodged the concussion warhead, pivoting through a tower mid-collapse and punching out the other side. The rest of the building closed off behind him, nearly a split second too late. Unfortunate if anyone tried to follow him. Were it not for the Avenger's impressive targeting array, he wouldn't have any idea where his quarry vanished...

Following Brent Warnel 's ping, Iris broke away from the engagement and lost the two dancing starfighters in the foggy haze. She pulled her Jai'galaar to the roof of the building and settled it down on top, popping the canopy to slide out.

The Avenger appeared from the darkness, targets locked on the parked fighter. His thumb brushed a button, unleashing a carpet of light warheads in a vertical strip that covered the parked ship's general area, from aft to fore. The rumbling of explosives was muffled, and he pulled up.

That was right when another TIE came screaming through a thick, descending storm cloud. The Baron's heart skipped a beat or three as he slammed the controls, scratching wing-to-wing with the friendly fighter. His Avenger was... largely fine. The shields were depleted, and there were reports of structural damage affecting left-side stability. The other TIE, however, broke apart and spiraled down to the ground below.

"Idiot!" The Baron seethed.

---

Null Squadron continued to trickle down in an exchange of blows.

Across the city, certain anti-air emplacements had indeed been compromised. But not the bastion centered around the command block. Which had now been secured in a combination of efforts by Madrona A’Mia and elements of the Sith forces under Lysander von Ascania 's command, now fanning out through the city. No, those emplacements continued to wreak havoc on the airspace. As did the storm above. Fire and storm, pressing its advantages on the airspace. Yes, that included Imperial fighters - especially now that the Sith were in control.

For the regulars of the defensive forces below the storm, it was turning into a gizka shoot. Their pilots and equipment weren't enough to keep up with these battlefield conditions much longer. Storms, fog, stray anti-air. It was a disaster.

Null, on the other hand, was faring better. Better enough, anyway. Four of them fell in behind Null Leader, their TIE Hunters hellbent on picking off the coming-and-going troop ships. More bodies inside the hull made a more appealing target for the sicko that Zim was. He did so, knowing full well those ships were unlikely to survive the storm, let alone the slaughter waiting for them in orbit - he just wanted to be the one to do it.

NPC ENGAGEMENT: Romul Saxon | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Seva Beroya | Vesper Thrace | Tavi Corvask
Humbarine Defense Fleet​

The blockade formation held, bracing against the onslaught of enemy firepower and returning with power of their own. The same couldn't be said for the gladiators and fast frigates, however, left behind to die without friendly TIEs or fire support. Not all of the fighter squadrons had returned, either. Those who had pressed deeper, or maneuvered to secure the space around Spirit Breaker, were decimated - save for a handful of scrappy pilots, banding together in makeshift squadrons.

Gallius stood silently as he watched the retreating Imperial fleet as they began to reform position tightly against the world. They had left the orbital platform vulnerable.

Some of the forward defenses had indeed been left vulnerable, but not critical installations like their fleet facilities or primary star installation. Those were kept in a lower orbit, naturally, to cut down on logistical costs and enable the use of transport tethers during high-volume operations. These facilities were tucked away within the blockade.

Portions of the shipyards, on the other hand, were torn to shreds. Glacier noted. "Confident, but foolish."

A pair of ISDs and a trio of victories exploited a gap, firing a concentrated stream of batteries upon the Gra'tua Dral. One of the victories, captained by a particularly brazen and cultish officer, reckoned this was a one-way attack, so he ordered the engines slammed, deflectors forward, on a collision course with one of the Gra'tua Dral's accompanying destroyers.

"Sir! They are jamming faster than we can cycle."

The Vice Admiral groaned. "Very well. Abandon all EW efforts of our own. Concentrate on countermeasures only." It was an uphill battle anyway, at least this way they could buy some more time, he thought.

"Have the Haran and Kalden move into orbit," he ordered through fleet command comms. "Begin preparing turbolaser batteries for orbital bombardment. Triangulate the position of the Alor through his comms channels and await my command."

"Sir!"

Glacier tensed - if he had to hear another f-- "What?"

"Enemy ships are entering orbital range."

Okay, that one didn't upset him. That was just a freebie.

The blockade was in full effect, and his own command ship, supported by wings of bombers and fighters, and the few remaining gladiators, concentrated a barrage of assault concussion missiles, torpedoes, and battery after battery of turbolaser at multiple angles of attack - particularly the aft sections and engines from the bombers.

Other wings and warships continue to counter enemy fighter deployments - it's a mess.

"Sir!"

"WHAT?! WHAT IS IT?! JUST SAY THE DAMN THING."

"Another ship... I don't know. It."

Bridge crew just stood up and stared out the viewport. The Vice Admiral moved forward, doing the same. They all watched the same thing. A hole punched through the fabric of space itself, and from it a massive warship, dropping in between the enemy and his own forward ships - the ones sent to flank the Gra'tua Dral.

Then there were reports coming in from the interdictors. They were pulling more ships out of hyperspace...

Spoiler: Action Summary

OBJ1:

• A pair of Rancor Squadron's hunters cut into the Baron's pursuers.
• The Baron is firing missiles at his quarry's parked ship. He collided with another TIE shortly after.
• TIE regulars are NOT doing well.
• Surviving elements of Null Squadron regrouped on Null Leader, targeting transports/dropships.
• AA fire from the command center (under TSC control) pepper the airspace.

OBJ2:

• The blockade is well in effect. Battered, but holding.
• Forward orbital defense posts have been cut off or destroyed, but most critical installations are in lower orbit, protected by the blockade.
• The HDF has sacrificed offensive EW capabilities to mitigate enemy EW and jamming, purchasing time until their systems are particularly hampered.
• The Haran and Kalden are being countered by the Serated Claw and accompanying gladiators and fighters/bombers, firing on their enemy from multiple angles of attack.
• HDF Interdictors are currently up, pulling approaching ships (traveling via standard hyperspace) out.

I thiiiiink that's everything?

​

 

[Casimir Thorne]

WEARING: xxx | WEAPON: x | x | ALLIES: Efret Farr | Riffraff Ranat | ENEMIES: Fenn Stag

The latest broadcast followed Casimir into the street.

"…do not fear the Sith Covenant or their allies. They have come to our aid…"

The message echoed from speakers mounted throughout the district while civilians hurried between checkpoints and temporary shelters. He had heard variations of the same broadcast several times since entering the city, but this was the first time he paid more attention to the source than the words themselves.

Someone was coordinating a response.

The realization caused him to slow as he watched emergency vehicles move through the university district ahead. Personnel carrying equipment crossed between buildings while security forces directed civilians toward structures that had been converted into shelters and command posts. The campus had become one of the centers of activity within the city.

Finding Efret through the Force had proven difficult. There were too many people. Too many emotions. Every street carried thousands of minds, and sorting through them for a single presence was like searching for one face in a crowd that stretched to the horizon.

So he approached the problem from a different direction.

Efret would not waste her time chasing skirmishes through the streets. If she had found a role in the conflict, it would be somewhere information was being gathered and decisions were being made. She had always been drawn toward understanding a situation before acting on it, and the university offered exactly the sort of environment where those skills would be useful.

As he continued toward the campus, the pattern became harder to ignore. Communications traffic remained unusually concentrated in the area. Personnel moved with purpose between a handful of buildings near the center of the district. The broadcasts themselves carried the marks of a coordinated effort rather than a hastily assembled emergency announcement.

The possibility that Efret was involved seemed increasingly likely.

The thought did little to improve his mood.
The city was at war. Any operation important enough to draw this much attention would eventually become a target, and Efret had a habit of placing herself near things that others considered valuable. She rarely did so out of recklessness. More often she simply became focused on the task in front of her and paid less attention to the danger gathering around it.
Casimir adjusted his course and headed deeper into the university grounds.

For the first time since arriving in Humbarine, he felt as though he was following something more substantial than instinct. Whether she was involved in the broadcasts or not, the answers he was looking for were likely somewhere ahead.

 

[Meliant]

Attn: Carduul Akahl Koda Fett

The Mandalorian he flung was tricksy, saving himself with a flare of his jetpack at the last moment. He tumbled around and then unleashed a swarm of wrist-missiles at Meliant. The Sith Lord laughed his ugly hyena-laugh again in the face of it. Mandalorians loved their silly little gadgets. They had to. Without that and the t-visors, they were just meat.​

​

Meliant held out his hand, and most of the missiles went askew as if deflecting off an invisible dome, peppering the battlefield. A few made it through, smacking into his armor and causing him to jerk around. They left nasty scorchmarks and, in a few cases, holes.​

​

The armor was hollow. No flesh, no bone, no blood. Only shadow and pitiless void. And a lot of spite, too, but that wasn't anything special.​

​

Carduul fell out of the sky again, and missed a quickly contorting Meliant by the width of a hair. He made a short hop over the blow made to sweep his legs. Too slow. The polearm was too slow, and this Sith Lord was too fast. It was like fighting the wind: Meliant always danced or leaned or ducked just out of reach.​

​

"Oh, I'm sorry," he hissed, bending just-so that one swipe of the polearm barely grazed the lip of his mask. "I'm not keeping you, am I?"​

​

That would have been a nice shave if he had any hair. Meliant let Carduul lead the dance, yielding ground liberally amidst the chaos, then once he had a measure of the Mandalorian's rhythm, the riposte suddenly began. ​

​

The Heron King's sword was long and thin, carrying surprising reach. The Golden Emperor would occasionally - suddenly - lurch within Carduul's guard, and his blade lashed out like the lunge of a viper: quick strikes of such aweful speed they could be measured in the span of a breath. To view it was to see only a blur of bitter steel.​

​

But these were not killing strikes, even if such a thing were possible through that beskar panoply. Meliant only sought to batter his enemy's helmet with the flat of the blade, set his ears ringing and eyes spinning inside of that tin can of his. It was possible this was to create a real opening, but it was also possible it was meant as an insult.​

​

There came, amidst all this, a sound like groaning steel, and the shriek of hellish engines. It was a detachment of Lysander's forces. Useful timing. Heavy war-walkers were descending on the withdrawing Mandalorians, interposing themselves ruthlessly into their retreat. A flight of gunships swept low, under escort of air superiority fighters, dropping a line of ordnance and scything down with composite beams anyone caught afield.​

​

And it was, indeed, anyone. His juggernauts had fallen silent (one suddenly reversed and slammed aimlessly through several buildings before stalling out) - their Humbariner crews and detachments had been reduced to screaming lunatics by some foul contrivance worked by the Sith Empress. They were now fodder. Liabilities. ​

​

That would have pissed Meliant off if he had the presence of mind to notice. As it stood, there was something far more important he had overlooked:​

​

Koda Fett.​

CC: Anet Raine Eurydice Lysander von Ascania The Arkanian Isobel Serraris ​

 

[Tavi Corvask]

​

ALLIES: Vesper Thrace | Emissary of Strife |
ENEMIES: Romul Saxon | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Seva Beroya
OBJECTIVE: Pillage and Plunder

The Mandalorians had no idea what they had walked into. They thought they were infiltrating an Imperial stronghold, easy pickings after the dissolution of the Galactic Empire, but instead found themselves embroiled in an actively moving coup by the Covenant. Stuck behind enemy lines the Mythos Fleet inserted itself into one of the heaviest defended sectors of the Galaxy, a relic left over from Lord Admiral Bao’s rule over the region for the past few decades.

It worked perfectly in the Covenant’s favor. Suddenly they didn’t have their infiltration attempt into the ranks of the Imperials go smoothly. The Mandalorians blundering into the sector to rescue their own people was softening up the Imperial War Machine without them even realizing it.

Tavi was entirely unaware of this, of course. Mother Mercy, Vesper Thrace 's new flagship, was the vanguard of a large Covenant fleet. Monstrous ships that had ripped a hole into the fabric of reality only to dip into the maelstorm themselves, traveling in a way that defied all appeals to logic and sanity.

This is why while Vesper was barking orders and maintaining order on the bridge, Tavi was sitting in one of the chairs next to her, shooting a quick prayer to whatever gods were available to listen.

They weren’t meant to be here, this much was certain to him. He wasn’t really sure how it had happened to begin with. In the aftermath of the Coruscant invasion, Vesper had left for a meeting with Mercy. The crazy psycho Empress of the Core had promised Vesper and her murder of corsairs a reward beyond count. Tavi knew that Vesper was going to ask for a fleet, to increase their power within the Covenant. But only Tavi (beyond Vesper) knew the real plan had been to steal the fleet at first opportunity.

So how they had gone from planning to steal a fleet to now leading the vanguard of the Sith Covenant straight into an Imperial-ruled sector was beyond Tavi. He didn’t ask either. Vesper had simply said that Mercy had presented a compelling case on how their fortunes would be much better remaining with the Empress rather than striking out on their own.

That had to be enough for Tavi.

He finally opened his eyes when Vesper addressed him directly.

"Enough, Banderos. You lose, que? Now unless you have something to say about the coming battle, put a lid on it." Banderos fell silent and lowered his attention to his battlestation. Vesper turned to @Tavi Corvask . "Now or never. Do or die." A pause and she reached over to pat his arm. "I say now. And I say do."

His hand covered hers briefly for the slightest of squeezes before Tavi let go and raised himself up. “You heard the Captain, we are going to walk straight up to these fethers and spit in their eye, no hesitation, no fucking whining.”

At Vesper’s command they reverted back to realspace and Tavi breathed out, only then realizing he had been holding his breath, you didn’t know you could miss reality until you had been flying outside of it.

He watched as Vesper pointed towards the biggest fething ship that was hostile to them and ordered an assault of turbolasers, torpedoes and other assorted armaments.

While his Captain focused on that, he brought his attention to the sensory equipment.

Then there were reports coming in from the interdictors. They were pulling more ships out of hyperspace...

The rest of the Covenant Fleet had arrived. Rows of newly forged hulls reverted out of the Netherworld and capitalizing on the surprise created by Mother Mercy and the pirate fleet led by Vesper Thrace.

If Mother Mercy ruled the vanguard, then the fleet was dominated by an Exarch-class Dreadnought that belonged to Mercy personally. Infested by Graspborn like a plague on the Galaxy. He was not sure who was captaining it and neither did Tavi want to know. Whoever had the trust of a monster like the Core-Empress, was someone he did not wish to meet.

This fleet, this Auric Horde, was like a swarm without ending as it created a wall of gleaming golden steel, turbolasers and hungry malevolence. Even as Mother Mercy began its assault, so too did the Graspborn fleet, by invisible order, begin a barrage of turbolaser batteries and missile octets sent out to apply unyielding pressure.

Suddenly the fleeing Mandalorians would find the obvious exit cut off. Wedged between the world of Humbarine, armed to the teeth by Imperial machinery, and this newly arriving fleet.

Hammer and anvil.

And the sons and daughters of Mandalore were in the middle of it, ready to be broken into pieces. Never to be remade again.

“By the Stars…” Tavi muttered with wide-eyes as he watched their sensory suite burst into activity. “This will be a slaughter.” The pirate looked up towards Thrace.

“I am glad you made sure we were on the right side of it.”

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

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

"Enough!"

Destruction rained all around him. Screams of panic and ferocity, it fueled him, fed him. A meal that Ignati himself gorged upon. Self doubt, hatred, frustration. It all nourished him. The shockwave from Arris blew forward in a violent wave, Ignati crossed his arms over his face to keep the dust from blowing into his eyes, his body slid backwards a few feet, but the being remained standing. Flames licking from the scale cracks of what was Varin’s flesh.

"Are you each so pathetic?! Was it a mistake to see you as equals?! Because if any of you are Knights of the Covenant, then we are left severely wanting."

A low growl vibrated his chest. His body drew low on all fours. Another growl of pain as he wrestled with control against Varin. The stubborn child who refused to let Ignati fix his mistakes.

You have embarrassed me Ignati…

Ignati hissed in response, a monstrous expel of air, sharp like the end of a vibroblade slicing through flesh. But it was what Acier said that tipped the scales, speaking directly to Varin, regardless of who Ace spoke to. He knew who he meant.

"Get your shit together."

A few quick deep breaths were taken into his chest as he stood looking around him. The destruction of their mission, the frustration of his crewmates, the disappointment. Varin had always been one to complete the mission regardless. To fail was a blow so deep it rattled him.

The mission…

Ignati clutched his claws over his head letting out a monstrous scream, nails digging into his scalp, blood pouring and hissing onto the ground.

“THAT NOISE!!!”

Another roar as the incessant ringing in his ear grew louder. Slowly it began to clarify, a small song emanating from…somewhere…no…from someone. A song gifted to Sith from the Empress Srina Talon . His head slammed into the duracrete beneath him, cracking the surface as a wail echoed from him.

Give me back my body!

Fire erupted from Varin’s mouth, blue base flames that trailed from purple to deep reds to oranges and yellows. His claws slowly raked down his scalp and over his face, cracking the scales to reveal normal skin.

“IT’S MINE!”

His head slammed once more into the duracrete as the song grew louder. The crash of the bell nearby did not phase him as it rolled by covered in blood and viscera. His gaze, Varin’s gaze, shot towards Lily as the ground quake from the steps of Garza . The storm that raged above head cracked with lightning and rain. Steam hissed off his body as droplets fell on him.

Another pained yell ripped through him as red crystals of hardened blood slowly protruded from his spine causing his back to stiffen in an arch.

The mission…

Turbolaser fire seemed to light the background as if the lightning itself exploded out of control from the clouds, muffled sounds of explosives boomed across the air echoing into the reaches of the sky.

“HOLD HIM DOWN!”

The commanding voice of a nearby squadron of Covenant Sith Troopers rushed towards Varin. One holding some form of shackles and others rushing in with other weapons to subdue the raging thing.

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