Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython

Sergeant Omen

Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps
Location: Omen's Personal Venator Class

Tagged: Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Shakka Bralor Shakka Bralor | Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Kaz Krayt | Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla | Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt | @Omen Mereel Verin Oldo Verin Oldo | Vemric Keldra | Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Khione Khione | Kranak Vizsla Kranak Vizsla

Omen stared out at his company of orphans from a shipping container as they stared back at him, expecting some sort of speech. He knew most of his company would die doing this suicidal attack. But he couldn't wavier or they would and that would add to the death count. So he steeled himself and tried to find the words that would propel his troops to fight to live for the Enclave instead of dying on a cold deck.

Finally, the Clone spluttered to life and started to speak into his men and women's personal commlinks. "You all know that I'm not one for rahrah speeches, unlike our fearless leader. To be frank, I hate war and I would hate to lose any of you. But we are getting put into a meatgrinder today and I wouldn't be surprised if we all get killed. But we all know the Sith won't go away and if we stay out of this fight, the bastards will take over the rest of the galaxy and eventually be at our doorstep, wanting the land that we have fought so hard for. We have to put them down now." He jumped down from his soapbox and put a hand on one of his troop's shoulders. "And I know no other people that I would have along to help me do it." Pulling back, he turned the speakers in his suit on, announcing to everyone it was go time. "TO YOUR BOARDING PODS VOD! TODAY WE PUT THE SITH BACK IN ITS KENNEL!"

As he settled into the seat of his private pod, all Omen's thoughts translated to how many obstacles they would have to cross to achieve their final goal, shutting down the Maw's superweapon for good. The Venator slowly crossed into the edge of the boarding pod's launch range, the Clone closed his eyes and braced for the launching towards his destiny, whatever that may be.

The boarding pods slid through the vacuum of space, speeding towards their objective of the superweapon's hull and being buffited the pompoms as the superweapon's flack guns spat towards the variety of boarding pods before them. Through the grace of whatever supernatural force was out there, his command pod drilled into the metal unharmed. Thankfully, either through sheer luck or the gunners focusing on the Akaan'alor's own pods, all of his men reported in, saying they were safe and ready to fight. Now all they had to do is crack open their tin cans and get to work.
 
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Writing with: Rika Hiro Rika Hiro Don Belkora Don Belkora
Equipment in bio.

Location.
Nearby: Warposters and PVP'ers at the base of Akar Kesh.

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O GREATEST OF KINGS

North of Akar Kesh, overlooking the water inlet that branches off from the Flooded Plains now stood Darth Ptolemis atop a craggy mountain and took in the sights of the battle that seemed like a pyrrhic cause in his corrupted eyes. Through those flaming eyes he saw The Mongrel The Mongrel 's fiercely dedicated forces surge forth from the downed Crucifix Destroyer, even hearing their blood-curdling chants from afar while also catching glimpses of clashing Force users all around the monolith he was defending. A slow inhalation, and an even slower exhalation. The Blasphemer closed his eyes, focused inward, and slowly began raising his arms.
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The chains of his consciousness bloated and spread like fungal growths toward the overbearing amount of enemies the Maw was facing. The miasmic projection of his cerebral cosmos polluted the land with dread and malice, decaying the willpower of all whose arms rose against the marauders of the Brotherhood.

Atop the mountain the dark sage stood imperiously, arms now cast out at the sky in a tense struggle against the Force itself, whipping it, contorting it, demanding control over it. Yet his ethereal struggle was nothing short of titanic in a place such as Tython, where the tides of Light and Dark were at an apex, creating a wall of tension that was almost impenetrable. But this was the moment of the New Sith Order. All the profane knowledge he had amassed over the years had culminated in the most sacrilegious of chants he was now performing. Anything organic around the Sith Lord began to wither. Like a pestilent shadow his presence spread around him, snuffing out life from the holy grounds of the Jedi. These corrupting incantations fueled his sovereignty over the Force and he once again shouted, blasting forth both strength and despair.

White-hot hatred to ignite the fervor of his kin.

Mind-shattering fear to erode the will of his enemies.

A solemn guardian to the ritual above, a cornerstone of the New Sith Order, the unseen shadow-terror of forbidden arts kept on roaring the song of the underworld, pulsing with unholy vengeance under the SHADOW OF BOGAN.

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E N D_O F_A N_E R A
Showdown over Tython


FINAL DAWN
TYTHON , DEEP CORE



"Taskmaster Tu'teggacha has arrived with his Task Force and has positioned his Forces alongside Admiral Hamilton's fleet" an officer informed him. Good, Sularen thought to himself. With the Taskmaster's arrival, the perimeter in front of the Avatar of War secure and thus in order to launch any direct strike upon the massive Superweapon, the enemy would have to go through the combined forces of Task Forces Solipsis and Bogan, although regardless of such, the Fleets of the Maw were already outnumbered by their foes although just as the Grand Overseer had anticipated, they would begin to converge on the Avatar of War and it's escort fleet with both the Avatar of War and the Mawite Star Dreadnought known as the Fatalis becoming primary targets for the enemy force, leaving Hamilton's fleet relatively unharmed. Only the New Imperials had refrained from engaging the Mawites remaining at a considerable distance from the Fleets of the Tython Accords and the Maw, a wise move from their part as it would spare them from the destruction that would be brought forth by Sularen's trap.

"We have then right where we want them." Sularen said in a smug tone. They had fallen for his trap and now he would unleash the full might of the Maw upon these incompetent fools. "Admiral Hamilton." Sularen began upon opening a channel with his trusted subordinate. "Initiate the trap. This is where we crush our enemies once and for all." The Grand Overseer proclaimed. Sularen then opened a seperate channel with Taskmaster Tu'teggacha. "Taskmaster. Do your best to maintain your current position, the presence of both the Avatar of War and the Fatalis have provoked them into throwing everything they have at us and in doing so they render their flanks vulnerable to our reserves.". As soon as Sularen was finished relaying his orders to Hamilton and Tu'teggacha, he turned to face the nearest officer. "Is the Superlaser primed and ready." the Grand Overseer asked. "Yes, Grand Overseer. We simply await your command." the officer said in response.

"Good. Target one of their Star Dreadnoughts and fire when ready" the Grand Overseer ordered. "Yes, Grand Overseer...and which Dreadnought should we target, sir." the officer said. "I don't care which Dreadnought they target. Just shot one out of the sky, decapitate one of their main task forces and remind them who's in control" the Grand Overseer snapped back. They would lose, one way or another, or his name wasn't Marlon Sularen. Thus Sularen opened an encrypted channel to the reserve fleets of the Brotherhood of the Maw that had yet to be deployed over Tython commanded by individuals such as Akûz the Ravager, Derix Tirall and Aldo Garrick. "Gentlemen, the time has come. Move your Fleets into the system, and spring the trap. This is where they fall"





TASK FORCE SOLIPSIS
Avatar of War & Escort Fleet
Defensive Fighter Screen
Wraith Squadron [On Route to Tython]

"Admiral Hamilton, it appears that House Io has decided to charge your position unsupported. An excellent opportunity to score some early kills...We will pick them off as they begin their reckless advance,"
Kaine Hamilton watched as the majority of House Io's Fleet advanced towards Taskmaster Tu'teggacha's Fleet. He never really understood this House Io, whose reputation was well known by the Final Dawn considering their actions at Jedha and Epoch. They fancied themselves as the invincible foes for the Maw thinking themselves as equals to the many Galactic Powers that had assembled here today. To the Admiral they were just a fanatic cult of delusional and mentally-ill people whose poor judgement and delusions often blinded them from the realities of the modern day. They thought themselves as the harbingers of the Maw's destruction but really they were merely a thorn on the Maw's side. Challenging the Final Dawn here would simply be another of their delusions.

"I'd highly advise you ignore House Io, Taskmaster" the Admiral said in response to the Taskmaster. "I doubt this poorly-organized cult and their makeshift fleet could truly harm us here. Our focus should be on the forces of the Tython Accords and the New Imperials not these delusional fools that call themselves House Io" the Admiral proclaimed. "Task Force Solipsis. Ignore the forces of House Io. Instead have the Fleet maintain it's defensive position and for the Tyrants to deploy their entire compliment of starfighters in order to create a defensive screen in front of out Fleet. The Prydes and the Purifier are to remain in defensive positions and await further commands." the Admiral ordered. Soon enough, the Tyrants would deploy fifty-six squadrons of various TIEs to establish a defensive screen in front of Task Force Solipsis to counter any starfighter attack against the Fleet while the Fleet maintained it's defensive position returning fire on any attacking warship with the exception for the two Pryde-Class Battlecarriers and the FDS Purifier.

"Admiral. Incoming transmission from the Grand Overseer" an officer said, shortly after Hamilton had relayed his orders. "Admiral Hamilton. Initiate the trap. This is where we crush our enemies once and for all." Sularen proclaimed. Hamilton nodded in response before replying to his superior. "It shall be done, Grand Overseer." before the channel was closed. "Have the Prydes activate their Gravity Wells and inform the rest of Wraith Squadron to move in." Hamilton ordered. The enemy had thrown everything they had at the Maw, and now the Maw would strike back with greater resolve and intensity on a level their foes had never seen to date. Thus the Pryde-Class Battlecruisers activated their gravity well projectors, an act which would signal the rest of the Mawite Warfleet to move into the system.

As the Admiral watched his forces carry out his commands growing confident that Sularen's trap would soon bring forth the demise of the foes of the Final Dawn, alarms starting blaring across the bridge. "What? What's going on" the Admiral said both surprised and confused about this new development. "Admiral , look." an officer said, pointing towards the starboard side of the the bridge. Quickly turning to face what the officer was pointing at, the Admiral watched in awe as a Cruiser-sized vessel suddenly emerged from hyperspace right in front of one of his Tyrant-Class Star Destroyers and exploded, creating a shock wave that shook the bridge of the Purfier and nearly threw the Admiral off his feet. "Report!" The Admiral said. "One of our Tyrant-Class Star Destroyers just suffered extensive damage to it's Shields." an officer said. "How bad is it?" the Admiral asked. "Both their Primary and Secondary Shields are gone and they are reporting a small amount hull breaches along the bridge superstructure" another officer said.

"Sir, several Silver Jedi Warships have emerged from hyperspace. They're attacking our Tyrants!" an Officer said. "That's it!" the Admiral said in a semi-furious tone. "Have our Tyrants redirect their fire on those Carriers and for our defensive screen to intercept every single fighter they've sent at us. We'll show those Silver Jedi bastards the price of messing with THE Wraith Squadron." the Admiral said. Soon enough, the Tyrant-Class Star Destroyers immediately cased firing on any non-SJO aligned Warship that had been previously attacking Wraith Squadron and began aiming their primary batteries towards the SJO Carriers waiting for them to get into range. Soon, the full weight of the Wraith Squadron would be upon the Silver Jedi especially with reinforcements on route and they would soon feel the consequences of provoking the rancor.


  • The Avatar of War begins aiming it's superlaser towards the Flagship of the Eternal Empire (The Ragnarök Super Star Destroyer)
  • Sularen orders Admiral Hamilton to spring the trap and for Taskmaster Tu'teggacha to maintain his position despite the heavy assault against his forces and signals for the rest of the Mawite Warfleet to move into the System.
  • The FDS Despoiler and FDS Eradicator activate their Gravity Wells in order to allow the rest of the Mawite Fleet to execute Thrawn Pincers in order to outflank the combined fleets of the Tython Accords.
  • The Tyrant-Class Star Destroyers of the Avatar of War's Escort Fleet deploy their entire starfighter compliment (fifty-six Squadrons) and establish a defensive screen in front of the entirety of the Avatar of War's Escort Fleet (Minus Task Force Bogan) to intercept any incoming fighters and bombers
  • One of the Tyrant-Class Star Destroyers of the Escort Fleet commanded by Admiral Hamilton is struck by an attack from a SJO Cruiser rigged with explosives at close range resulting in the loss of both the primary and secondary shields and various hull breaches
  • The Rest of the Tyrant-Class Star Destroyers of the Avatar of War's Escort Fleet begin aiming their primary weapons towards the SJO Fleet with the intent of returning fire upon them should they enter in range, while secondary weaponry continues to fire upon the the rest of the Maw's collective foes


 
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Location: Tython System
Tags: Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Aximand Sicarus Aximand Sicarus | Maple Harte Maple Harte | Laertia Io Laertia Io | Mith'akis'ormo Mith'akis'ormo | Mylo Thorne Mylo Thorne
Vaux Gred Vaux Gred | Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Juno - 11/0571 Juno - 11/0571 | Vemric Keldra | VADM Tarsa Doon VADM Tarsa Doon | Tren Chaar Tren Chaar
Aculia Voland Aculia Voland | Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber | Liram Angellus Liram Angellus | Albrecht F. Herlock Albrecht F. Herlock

  • The Fatalis ceases fire and redirects all power to shields, point-defense, and repair systems
    • This allows it to weather the massive incoming assault a little longer
  • The Mawite fleet doesn't deploy fighters, giving the enemy strike fighters and interceptors nothing to do
  • Point defense lasers target the incoming Elysian bombers, which have weak defenses
  • With all of House Io's ships firing on the Fatalis, the entire rest of the fleet shoots them from all sides with impunity
  • Tu'teggacha reaches out to disrupt the Force-based attack of Xiphos as best he can
    • A capital class vessel with 40,000 crew probably can't just be insta-controlled like a puppet

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought (10,000m)Defensive Positions
Woeful Dirge, a Crucifix II-class Star Destroyer (2,000m)Defensive Positions
Ruination, a Crucifix II-class Star Destroyer (2,000m)Defensive Positions
Teta's Sorrow, a Crucifix II-class Star Destroyer (2,000m)Defensive Positions
Griefmaker, a Crucifix II-class Star Destroyer (2,000m)Defensive Positions
Blood of Martyrs, a Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer (1,800m)Defensive Positions
Final Sacrifice, a Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer (1,800m)Defensive Positions
Fist of War, a Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer (1,800m)Defensive Positions
Wild Fury, a Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer (1,800m)Defensive Positions
Twelve Samael-class Frigates (398m x 12 = 4,776m)Defensive Positions



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Well, so much for picking off the Maw's many enemies one by one.

No sooner had the Taskmaster given his orders, directing all the fire his little fleet could muster into the onrushing House Io forces, than a great multitude of additional contacts began to sweep down upon the Brotherhood forces. Some of the incoming sensor contacts were familiar: Enclave signals he'd seen at Roon, Eternal Empire pings just like at Odessen, Silver Jedi codes similar to the ones at Lao-mon, Alliance and NIO blips drawn from... well, just about every battle over the past ten years. But there were some new comm patterns and IFF codes as well, ones he hadn't seen before.

The Tython Accords were even larger than the last anti-Maw coalition.

And every captain's eye was drawn to the Avatar... and the Fatalis.

Tu'teggacha felt his earlier nervousness turn to near-panic as he surveyed the full scope of the threat bearing down on him, all too aware that this massive enemy force - already more than enough to crush Strike Force Bogan - was still growing as more and more defenders arrived. Staring out the viewport at the fast-approaching shapes, so much bigger than what he could boast, he felt as if he was a child aboard his clan cruiser again. In those days, when his own people had beaten and spat on him for his Force-given "curse", everything bigger than he was had been a terrifying threat.

His instinct had always been to crawl into some small, sheltering duct...

... but that wasn't really an option while commanding a flagship.

In that moment of terror, the Taskmaster suddenly flashed back to the end of his time on that clan cruiser. He had gained power, his hate and fear and pain fueling his curse, every kick to the ribs or thrown plate of food or vile insult strengthening his connection to the Dark Side. The time had come when he hadn't been force to hide anymore. With his magic he could reach out and twist the minds of his tormentors, forcing them to relive their worst moments, to suffer their fears and pain over and over and over. They had been helpless against him after that... but he remembered something else.

Tu'teggacha had saved the cruiser's captain, leader of the pirate clan, for last. He had forced the old Ebruchi to watch as the Accursed One had torn through the minds of the crew, leaving them mewling wrecks writhing senselessly upon the deck plating, screaming at phantom demons. Finally he had cornered the fool on the bridge, just the two of them, staring into one another's bulbous black eyes. The captain had not begged or bargained. He had looked resigned. "They say 'it's good to be king', Accursed One," he said, and sighed. "But they are liars. It is bad to be king."

"To be the greatest one, to wear the crown, is to wear a target."


Then he died screaming, and Tu'teggacha paid him no heed.

Now, with three enemy fleets actively gunning for the Fatalis and the misshapen alien sitting in its command throne, the Taskmaster finally understood what the wrinkled elder had meant. Even surrounded by eight star destroyers, even with a planet-killing superweapon right next to it, the Fatalis wore the crown. It had been the Mawite flagship for more than a decade, since before there was a Final Dawn, through all of the greatest battles of the Second Great Hyperspace War. It had helped seal the doom of Csilla, survived the carnage on Korriban, dealt a deathblow to the Sith regimes.

It was the undisputed king of the Brotherhood Warfleet...

... and everyone was coming for the king.

The Super Star Destroyer was a vessel of incredible power, with armaments that could turn continents to glass and armor thicker than the entire breadth of a corvette. But the trade-off for all that power was instant attention, drawing enemy fire like metal shavings to a magnet. Now, with the greatest concentration of enemies the Brotherhood had ever faced swarming around it, with three larger fleets bearing down on it directly, all of its prowess could not scatter its foes. It could no longer be the scythe that swept through the battlefield, scattering legions of foes like chaff from the grain.

Now it was like one giant predator swarmed by tiny ones.

It could not withstand all their little teeth forever.

But perhaps he could exploit this single-minded focus. If the Fatalis could not be the hammer, perhaps it could be the anvil. "Cease firing," the Ebruchi commanded, and his bridge officers - though confused - scrambled to obey. "Redirect all weapon and engine power to shields, point defense, and repair systems. Reassign all turbolaser crews to damage control. We will withstand this assault!" For as long as they could, anyway. Systems thrummed and indicator lights cycled on and off as the reactor output was redirected, all of the ship's powerful offense now working to protect it.

And not a moment too soon.

While the Eternal Empire forces kept back, cautiously engaging the Mawite pickets - presumably Sularen's, since Strike Force Bogan hadn't deployed any flak frigates - the Elysians, newcomers to fighting the Maw, rushed in behind House Io. Their carriers deployed a true legion of starfighters, quite literally hundreds of squadrons, many times the total number that Tu'teggacha's fleet could carry. There was little point in launching his own fighter screen, which would have been so laughably outnumbered that it would be torn to pieces in moments. But that decision had benefits.

It made all of the strike fighters and interceptors useless.

No fighters to hunt, and no way to hurt capital ships.

That left the bombers, and those were a problem. They were incredibly heavily armed, equipped with all manner of missiles and torpedoes; even the mighty shields and armor of the Fatalis couldn't hold up against three hundred squadrons of such craft for long. But the bombers had a disadvantage, too: their speed and maneuverability were merely average, and their defenses lacking. Weak shields, thin armor... a shot or two from the powerful point defense lasers of the Super Star Destroyer could surely shred them, and no amount of fighter escort could prevent that except through self-sacrifice.

And all of the Fatalis's weapon power was now in point defense.

While those defenses laid down a withering fire screen against the attacking bombers, and the Fatalis's missile deactivation transmitters went to work preventing as many of the incoming missiles as possible from ever detonating, Tu'teggacha turned his attention back to House Io. All vessels except the flagship continued firing relentlessly on the Io support vessels, targeting those that had already suffered weapon system damage, seeking to strip away their offensive capabilities as much as possible. They might not be able to turn back this attack, not when overwhelmed by so many foes...

... but they could at least lessen and delay its impact.

They'd buy time for the Avatar... and for the Dark Voice's ritual.

And they'd find it pretty easy, too, because nothing was returning their fire. The Io ships seemed as single-minded as insect drones, calmly marching between the Fatalis's eight star destroyer escorts without reacting to the withering fire that the heavily-armed vessels directed into them from all sides the entire time, apparently too focused on the SSD to even notice anything else. Turbolasers, missile arrays, and orbital autocannons opened up on them with impunity, such that Tu'teggacha could not see how they would ever reach the range they sought against the flagship behind these escorts.

Then five Hammerhead-sized ramships raced ahead of them.

The Ebruchi blinked slowly. Then he laughed.

There was a slight size difference.

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"Prioritize the cruisers and frigates," the Ebruchi ordered, "but eliminate those ramships if an opportunity arises." Surely no one would be foolish enough to think that the tiny vessels could do anything at all to the hulking Fatalis by ramming it, so there must be some other plan at play, explosives or something. No matter. All available power would hold back the incoming torpedo barrage for as long as possible, and the rest of the fleet would grind down the unresisting Io ships in the meantime. Shields were weakening at an alarming rate, but if they could just lessen the incoming fire a little...

That was when he sensed something else, a presence reaching out across the void. A presence trying to... take over the firing controls of an entire star destroyer? Tu'teggacha shook his head. This foe did not lack for ambition, certainly. She apparently thought that she could outfight forty thousand crew with her mind and turn a capital ship into her puppet. Capturing one gun battery from across the void would be an incredible accomplishment. Taking over an entire star destroyer? That was the action of a god, and no Force-user the Ebruchi had ever heard of could do it.

He'd best try to stop her, though, in case she managed to redirect some of the vessel's fire onto friendlies; that would be a disaster given how badly they were already outnumbered. The Taskmaster sent out his own presence into the void, seeking the mind of the ambitious one. His one and only Force gift was touching the minds of others, but he had honed that gift to razor sharpness. Searching for the attacker, he sent out his knobby, slimy mental fingers, trying to pick through her memories. He sought out the worst days of her life, trying to throw them up in front of her eyes on an endless loop of pain.

Hopefully that would be enough to disrupt her concentration.

Sularen was busy with many, many foes of his own.

Tu'teggacha stood alone.

"Your outflanking plan had better work," the Ebruchi hissed, though he had no channel open and Sularen could not actually hear him. Sweat dribbled down his rubbery flesh, running in stinging rivulets into his glossy black eyes, making his vision swim. "If it doesn't, if we don't get warfleet reinforcements into position, we'll be finished in minutes." He was the bait, and the anvil on which the Maw could break its foes... but if the hammer never arrived, if he was left on his own in this laughably outnumbered state, no amount of power redirection would save him and his kingly ship.

The crown would tumble, and he would fall.
 

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T H O R N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SOUTHERN KALESH PLAINS, TEMPLE VALLEY | TYTHON
ALLIES: DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran | Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra | Annor E-059 | Julian Qar Julian Qar | Bex Tarring Bex Tarring | Aerys Myrrine | Jas Katis Jas Katis | Asanté Tsilor Asanté Tsilor | Ollis Barran Ollis Barran | Nukth Kelga'an Nukth Kelga'an | Jerec Yularen Jerec Yularen | @whoever else I missed | NIO | Enclave | Hellion
ENEMIES: Everybody else (you'll get tagged if you're important)
ENGAGING: Darth Saevius Darth Saevius
GEAR: Armour | Pistol | Rifle | Vibroblade | Vibroknife | Grenade loadout | 6th "Boom" Platoon - 501st Legion
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IT ALL ADDS UP

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The deep breath before the plunge.

The troopers of 6th Platoon were taking the last bit of time to sit down for a quick game of cards while smoking cigs rested in the corners of mouths not too far from the Command Tent.

"Don't let the oaks drink too much before shit hits the fan. I want everyone shooting straight when those feckers come swarming." Rose told the Sergeants under her command, her helmet under her arm.
"Ma'am, yes, ma'am." they said in unison along with a unified salute.
"Go take a breather before the show starts." she dismissed them.

Crimson eyes regarded the officers as they took off toward their squads.
"Don't get too far into your head, Thorn." Master-Sergeant Danny Evans said as he stood next to her.
The Chiss Lieutenant turned to face him. "What do you mean with that?" she asked him.
"I mean don't dwell on the past. Kick their asses because of the now, not because of what happened to your sister." he said.
"They'll get what's coming to them either way, Evans. No quarter. Ours is the fury." she answered him, her crimson eyes boring into his green ones.
"I'm not burying another Dorce, you hear me woman?" Danny said, sticking a finger under her nose to make a point.
"Yes, dad." she quipped. "Can I go report in now, Boomer?"
Danny chuckled. She was very much his CO, despite their bickering.
"Fine." he smiled. "I'll be at the cards over there." he motioned to a group sitting on the chest of one of the tanks not far from the Tent.

Rose chuckled as he took off. Almost a year ago, he had showed up on her doorstep with the devastating news of her sister's demise on Noris. Since then, he had become a very good friend and capable officer in the field. His advice was irreplaceable. She knew there was a part of him that wanted to dissuade her from avenging her sister, despite his own desire for vengeance.

But no quarter would be given to those that had taken everything from her.


 
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Outskirts of Kaleth Temple, Tython
Running interference against the Maw.
Ishani Dinn Ishani Dinn

"... their weakness threatens our glorious purpose, but they still have a use. Cull them before they relent, shed their blood so that it may fuel our victory! The hour of rebirth is at hand, but only the strong will live to see it."

The Maw were brutal, but they were not idiots. At least a few bands had been kept in reserve, ready to pounce on cracks in the defences and pour through the breach - this specific bunch had been especially antsy and so they had rejoiced when a demonic emissary of the gods had arrived, its unearthly voice calling for blood. The blood of the weak.

If the blood of cowardly 'allies' would serve their great purpose, who were they to question it?

Of course, Kal was not actually a demon and the Mawites he was directing them towards were not actually about to fall back; if anything, they were gaining ground, which was why he had chosen to intervene.

In the absence of skill at arms, he had opted to whisper from the shadows.
 
Guardian Angel | Light of Ashla
Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze
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[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Eina tries to encourage her husband.
  • Eina accepts Vinaze's duel.
Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Surface, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze
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[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

She prepares to leave and tells Gei her worries.

~ Sanctuary, Netherworld, not too much before the Maw's attack ~
Eina and Geiseric did not go ahead with the others to Tython; for them it was a few minutes through the Netherworld. The last few days have been spent at the Sanctuary. But the days together before the war soon came to an end and now they had to go. Eina had been restless for days. She wasn't nervous or tense, but she felt in the Force that something was approaching, something bad. There was a disturbance in the Force, and she was blind this time.

She had always been receptive to this, and she knew she would always feel this before all of the major wars. Death always attracted her due to her species. But today, she felt the cruel longing and hunger of beings who are hungry for souls, and she felt the Bogan more than ever. Even now, it was like feelings like Csilla happened, or just before the great Korriban fight. And there at Korriban, Gei didn't come home. Everyone thought he was dead, only Eina fought for him. They were just friends back then, though there were already connections between them, they were from the first moment, but they weren't too close to each other. But today?

Best friends, soul mates, lovers, husband and wife. As they were just putting on their armour to leave, Eina walked over to Gei and embraced him from behind as she cuddled up to the man. Her forearms placed on the man's belly and his upper body, then the woman's two palms stopped on the man's chest and hugged him in this way. The Valkyrja placed her chin on the man's shoulder and looked at him from the side.

["I have been feeling the joy, the hunger and excitement of Maw’s Avatars for days. It is the strongest today. It causes restlessness as if they know something in advance. But the future is now shrouded in darkness. Ashla's light can't penetrate the shadow of Maw's Avatars. I'm blind. Please take great care of yourself during the fight, you know I can't fight on your side right now, my beloved crusader!"] she whispered to him in Essonian.

She closed her eyes after her words, it was such a peaceful and intimate moment and it was such a good feeling to embrace her husband…

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Location: The Sanctuary, Netherworld (Current), Akar Kesh (Soon)
Equipment: In Sig
Writing With: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir / Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze (Soon)


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Geiseric's mind had been wrought by dark dreams for days now. The loss of Empress Teta weighed heavily on the Ashlan Crusaders. The attack had come so quickly, catching the galaxy off-guard. While there were still those in the ranks of the Crusade who distrusted the Galactic Alliance, no amount of enmity between the two governments could overshadow the need for unity against their common enemy. The Brotherhood was bolder than ever, and once again the Sith were in the Core Worlds.

His premonitions in the night, it seemed, were only getting stronger. He knew he was not the only Jedi seeing such visions in the Force. The plague that was the Bogan threatened to infect them all. In recent days Gei had helped to oversee the raising of the war machine to new heights. Lord Grayson's grand vision for the Jedi Order demanded that much of him. The impending battle would be the one that would either destroy the Jedi forever, or set them free.

Now, as the Crusade marched to Tython, Geiseric took a moment of respite. In the home of his wife, a place that had become a home to him as well, he said his goodbyes. The denizens of the Sanctuary knew they may never see him again.

The frigid air of the place, that had once scorned him, had become something calming. Together the husband and wife donned their armor in silence, for there was no need to speak. Their Dyad in the Force told them everything they needed to know of one another. As he stood from putting on his greaves, he felt the warm embrace of Eina from behind. Words in his native language soothingly parted from her lips. It honored him greatly that she had learned the Essonian tongue, for it kept him connected as well to his people.

"You are always by my side. You could journey to Firefist and never leave my heart. I beg of you, my love, do not fear. There is only courage to be had. I know you do not see yourself as a Jedi, but you have done great services to the Order. No greater service can be given than to defend Tython"



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Location: Akar Kesh
Writing With: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze / Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis / Anyone else on OBJ III / Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir (Soon)


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And finally came the day of reckoning. Every dark power in the galaxy worth their blackened blood descended on Tython like a hawk to its pray. The bones of many a world had already been picked clean by the vultures. This day would prove him right, truly and unequivocally after decades. Here, the birthplace of the Force, The Sith'ari would fulfill the prophecy.

Alongside the retinue of Darth Solipsis, Vinaze was but a mere warping feeling in the air. His presence in the Force utterly black, mixing with the darkening aura of the world, melding with it. He needed not to show himself to the other Sith Lords. There was no pomp and ceremony to be had today worthy of conjuring a mortal form. On this monumental day he was as one with the Force as he had ever been, ever allowed himself to be.

All of the dread lord's energies had to be directed toward Solipsis today, to ensure the ritual was a success. The Jedi had come close to thwarting them at Csilla, and Asog. Momentary setbacks, it seemed, for the Maw had reached Tython as easily as a blade reaches the heart of the inferior swordsman. The Sith were as united as ever, and the Jedi were apart, crumbling.

As the prodigal daughter attended her father, and the ritual began, an aquatic and murky eye popped through the threshold between worlds at the side of Mandalore the Unchained.

"This is the paradise of which I spoke, Khamul. Drink in its power. We are home."

The once blue skies darkened to sickly, writhing blackness, like the Bogan had consumed the heavens. Lightning of all colours erratically seizured from inked clouds striking the fertile valleys below them. Oh he had seen such beautiful storms before, but those had always been the product of men. This one rivalled them all, created by a god, created by the collective will of the Dark Side and its one true son.

Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Surface, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze
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[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

She speaking with Gei.

~ Sanctuary, Netherworld, not too much before the Maw's attack ~
["I'm not afraid, my beloved crusader! No one knows better than me that death is not the end, but only a new beginning. Beginning of a new life. Stars, planets, and lives have always been destroyed. In a natural way or by force. It’s all a natural part of life, even if it’s committed as horribly as the Maw."] her voice was reassuring and deeper than usual.

She really wasn't afraid, at least not of death. The Valkyrja wasn't worried about that. Eina was worried about things bigger than that. Not the deeds and acts of mortals, but the Avatars'.

["I just don’t know my own destiny, but it doesn’t bother me, even if it will be my final death. The only thing I’m worried about is... no, I’m not afraid, I’m just worried it is... I'm worrying for every soul, lest they not share in that fate like my father’s soul. I do not wish for a soul to be torn apart, never to find peace, but to be captured only in their own madness."] her voice was sad now, never telling of the fate of her father until now.

For a few more moments she enjoyed being able to cuddle and embrace the crusader.

["Many Valkyrja will be present on the planet for understandable reasons. However, I am sending out some teams to keep an eye on the Avatars as well, here in the Netherworld. I’m more worried about what’s going on here than in Realspace. There are many who fight there to protect the planet, but there are few creatures here that can defy creatures like War, Death, and Rebirth."] she explained to him, however she knows her husband knows this.

Now she let the man go so they could both finish armour dressing. Meanwhile, she telepathically told her people to go to guard the territory of the Avatars. If there is a problem there, do not intervene for now, just let her know.

["Regardless, promise me, to take care of yourself!"] she asked him in a soft voice with a warm smile.

She picked up the armour gloves as a last accessory, probably finishing it all at the same time as her husband. After that, she'll step to him, if Gei hasn't put on his helmet yet, she'll caress his cheek and kiss him softly.

["Let me know if we can leave."] she asked him, when the man is ready, she opens a rift for themselves that will get them to Tython if they go through it.

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Location: The Sanctuary, Netherworld (Current), Akar Kesh (Soon)
Equipment: In Sig
Writing With: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir / Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze (Soon)


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Death was not the end for a Jedi, but merely a new beginning in the Force. His lover's words did reassure him not to worry, and he tried to take them to heart. A lot of people would die in the coming battle, both those sensitive to the Force and those not. There was nothing either of them could do about it.

By now he was certain the Sith had engaged the Jedi. That much he could feel, echoing out from the heart of Ashla across space and time. When he closed his eyes, he only caught faint glimpses of what was to come, or perhaps they were visions of what had passed. They did not make sense to him. He would have to see the state of Tython in person. The moments until he did were counting down, hanging tensely in the air. He knew he could not stay here in Eina's embrace forever.

"I will take care of myself, and as many souls as I can save with every Sith I cut down. That much I can promise you, my dear. Even those wayward souls your Valkryja cannot catch shall be returned to the Force."

The pair tenderly enjoyed a final kiss before their time was up. Eina conjured the portal that would lead them to the field of battle. It swirled black and blue with tiny stars like a night sky, beckoning them inwards towards the fate of the Jedi...

Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla

Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade; Living Saint of Ashla
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild
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Objective: To provide a battlefield wide Battle Meditation to her allies and the defenders.
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze || Geiseric Geiseric | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze
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[ Race to the Sea ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Eina and Gei arrive at Tython.
  • Eina feels Vinaze and Khamul's presence.

["Thank you!"] she breathed.

She could still feel the joy and laughter of the Avatars. For the last time, she looked that direction from where she felt it through the Force. However, the Avatars have not acted yet. Eina did not want to provoke them by being attacked now. It was better to keep an eye on the area for now. However, after the kiss, they had to leave. The rift opened and she followed Gei back to Realspace.

She had never been to Tython before, but Eina immediately felt and saw the past and the significance of the place. The Valkyrja saw the past lives, the significance of the place, the countless events that took place here. That time, when the Je'daii order, they were fighting the Infinite Empire, the Rakatas. The all-decisive struggle of that time, war. She saw the echoes of Xesh and Shea Koda in the Force just like countless other heroes' who lived at the time. This place was stunning.

["This place… I wish you could see it the way I do, Gei! Living history!"] she told him.

For her, the world was very different, to be seen in the Force and in reality at the same time; to see souls, echoes, everything. It was much deeper than for anyone else. Many times, she wished her beloved crusader could see the world the way she did. However, after the overwhelming feelings of the past, Eina had already seen and felt the horrors of the present. And she sensed something else too.

Something, someone, that it had at least as little place here as she had.

["My Valkyrjas and I are not the only ones here from the Netherworld. I'm not talking about demons or summoned creatures. I felt this… this power on Malachor V when we were there, an eldritch creature. And I feel him too. Khamul Kryze. From that direction. They’re both there, with a lot of other people."] she pointed her hand towards the Akar Kesh temple.

Eina had a feeling that both Mandalore and the Eldritch creature already knew they had arrived. During the Force Storm and in this place with the Dyad, they glowed very brightly in the darkness...

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The Unchained

Engaging:
Geiseric Geiseric (soon)

Allies: Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze , Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis ,Darth Mori, Dodhorn Harert, Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood , Chassella, Laoth, Danika Leventis, Darth Ptolemis Darth Ptolemis , Zinn Zinn Bink'sa

Enemies: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir , Judah Lesan Judah Lesan , Ingrid L'lerim, Aoki Mira, Valery Noble Valery Noble , Rurik Fel, Asmundr Varobalder, Cotan Sar'andor

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

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Lacrimosa

The skies blackened over Tython, enveloping the planet within the ethereal shroud of the Dark Side. The Brotherhood had fought their way across the stars, spreading the unholy words of their dreaded Avatars as they bathed in the blood of their fallen enemies. Through it all, the weakened masses attempted to push the tide of darkness back, even having done so successfully at times, if only for a moment. Such victories only delayed the inevitable, however, for no amount of mustered forces could possibly dream of overcoming the machinations of the Maw. The Imperials... the Jedi... the Dar'manda... all of them were simply whispers in the wind, doomed to be swept away by the current of the Dark Voice and his ilk. Today would be a testament of that, and the Demon Mandalore would have a front row seat as the birthplace of the Jedi came crashing down around them.

He stood near the blackened visage of Darth Solipsis as he unleashed his will upon the planet, his masked gaze fixed upon the brilliant display of power as the torrent continued to build and cascade across the blotted skies. There was a sense of... was it admiration? Perhaps. Khamul may have only seen the Dark Voice as a stepping stone on the path to achieving his own goals, but the Unchained always respected strength, even if it came from one that he was destined to one day ascend above. Anyone that underestimated such power would surely perish in its wake, just as so many would on this very day.

As he stood there, a single aqueous, inky eye produced itself next to him, a piece of the otherworldly presence of none other than Darth Vinaze. Khamul's long time comrade mused over the current state of the Maw's attack, prompting Khamul to turn his attention toward the hovering eye.

"Indeed..."

And drink in the power he did, allowing the swirling energies flow through him freely as he bathed in their foul radiance.

"This will be the beginning, Vinaze... soon, we will all be baptized by the veil of shadow."

Within the umbra of the Dark Side, Khamul could sense the faintest trickle of light, as if a burning lantern danced in the distance, beyond the horizon of darkness. It was a familiar feeling, something he had felt once before upon a distant planet.

"I sense that I will prove my own worth before the day is out."

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Location: Akar Kesh
ALLIES: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze / Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis / Anyone Sith on OBJ III
ENEMY: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir


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As The Prophet and the Saviour of the Mandalorians together looked on at the coming battle, Vinaze could not help but reflect on where they had come from. He recalled the cold sting of stygian steel bloodying his palm in the Citadel of Ziost, in a time when that world was still the heart of darkness, pledging himself to Darth Voyance. He recalled the burning streets of Bastion as the New Empire wrenched it from the dying hands of the old. He recalled Thule, Felucia... where Solipsis had cemented himself as the Dark Lord of all Sith. Finally his mind flashed to throne of the Sith, where had proclaimed the prophecy... complete.

But for everything Exegol had become to the New Sith Order, it was truly but a final refuge for a dying breed. The Jedi had taken all the worlds they held dear and holy, making them perverse with the naivete of the Light Side. That was Vinaze's true desire for Tython, to be snuffed in vengeance for Dromund Kaas, for Ziost, for Malachor. When they were done here, the false dichotomy would be destroyed, and from the ashes the Sith would rise like the pheonix, born anew to overshadow every incarnation of their order before.

While he pondered the future he felt the arrival of the Jedi, en masse. No one had doubted that their enemies would not give their all to defend the Temple of Balance. But their all would not suffice.

As the battle began to rage he felt one signature in the Force, faint in the eye of the storm but full in its Light, in its intent. He'd felt this one before. Khamul felt it too.

"I must make a call lest I miss an opportunity I have long awaited. I suggest you to follow suit." with those words Vinaze disappeared from view, melting back into the darkness that consumed the temple plateau.

He weaved his consciousness through the waves of the Force, feeling the nagging weight of the Jedi battle meditation pushing back against the darkness of the Sith'ari's ritual, until finally he reached her. The guardian angel of the Jedi Crusade, as it were.

He did not need to show himself, for just like him she was a creature of the beyond.

"Eina... L'lerim is it? Your name carries a weight that belies you, child. Long have I sense you in the corners of my mind, always the ready defender of Jedi wherever I find them. Today we will put a final end to that."


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Location: Akar Kesh
Equipment: In Sig
ALLIES: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir / Battle Meditators / Jedi on OBJ III
ENEMIES: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze


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The Netherworld rift delivered them unto a sight he wished he had not seen. Geiseric had been to Tython before, but never to the Temple of Balance. Everything was wrong, a beautiful blessed world turned sick by the Bogan. By the time the couple arrived, the battle was already underway. Lightsabers crashed, blue, green and red flying indiscriminately as each combatant fought for their life. Without hesitation the paladin ignited his own golden blade and activated the shield on his left arm.

"Eina, make yourself scarce. I'm going for the center." he yelled to his wife over the storm, before breaking into a jog, amplified by the Force to take the weight from his heavy armour.

Even in the darkness he recognized the faces of a few Jedi he knew, people he would rather not see killed. But death at a time like this was inevitable, and it was clear each and every Jedi assaulting Solipsis and his minions was ready to give up their ghost in the line of duty, or else they would not have set foot in Akar Kesh.

He waded through the battle towards the center of the mount, where he could see Solipsis surrounded by his entourage. Dour masks obscured many a face, and furthermore faces were unrecognizable to him. Save for one figure who immediately caught his attention. He could not mistake the bloodplate of the slaver Mand'alor, who he had fought to a standstill at Kamar.

Geiseric stopped 20 yards from the ritual, evidently drawing the attention of a few Sith, though he could not bring himself to care. He had seen what happened at the hands of Khamul Kryze. He demanded satisfaction from this one alone, to avenge the fallen he had seen with his own eyes. Geiseric called out across the Force, channeling his energy towards his challenge knowing full well he could not use normal words over the storm.

Instead his words echoed through the Force, unspoken but clearly heard.

"Unchained! Step down and face me!"

["You don't have to worry about me, my love. I can take care of myself."] she told him.

As always, it was a pleasant feeling that Gei was worried about her, though typically unnecessarily. Now, of course, it was necessary for her to be in a place where there was not much fighting, as she herself wanted to perform combat meditation to help Ashla's helpers. And for that, it would have really been advisable for her to avoid all the situations her husband mentioned. Eina watched the crusader move in the direction of the ritual; she was still blinded by Bogan's power, she did not see the future. In the present circumstances, countless souls can walk like the soul of her father. She hoped it wouldn't happen.

~ Don’t let your feelings lead in the fight against the Mand'alore. I know you're frustrated because you couldn’t beat him on Kamar. Fight against him with a clear mind. I will be here and support you, my beloved crusader! ~ she told him this time in telepathic way. ~ May Ashla guide and protect you! ~

Because they never left each other, they were not far apart, they were one in the Force. And Mand'alore was a worthy opponent even to the mother of the Valkyrja, even though the Eternal Empress was a very good warrior. She watched as Gei reached the part where the majority fought. She looked around. Smaller creatures, demons, did not dare to come near Eina, Ashla's light and strength was too strong in her, and the creatures of Netherworld knew her and her species.

Eina looked up at the sky, saw the members of Valkyrja. It was then that she decided to start and look for a place to join those who had felt the battle meditation. However, she could not set off because at first she only felt the power and presence of the Eldritch being. She turned in the direction where she felt the man. She really saw the other creature, looked at him. Although she had never seen it before, she knew it from his appearance.

"Darth Vinaze, right?" she asked him. "L'lerim-Vandiir. I was born half from the soul of Darth Prospero, not just the soul of the Eternal Empress. I felt you, too, many times. But your presence was not threatening and weak compared to the Avatars. So I didn't deal with you."

Eina's voice was not mocking, she did not know the mockery. She was just honest as always.

"But here in Realspace, War, Death, and Rebirth aren’t present, so I have time to deal with you. I'm not going to run away from the fight, Darth Vinaze. In what form do you want our encounter? I assume not with steel, since you are not a warrior but a sorcerer. How do you want to make the war of the mind?" she asked him.

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ALLIES: Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Vemric Keldra | Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber | Juno - 11/0571 Juno - 11/0571 | Mylo Thorne Mylo Thorne | Tren Chaar Tren Chaar | Liram Angellus Liram Angellus | Albrecht F. Herlock Albrecht F. Herlock | VADM Tarsa Doon VADM Tarsa Doon | Caoimhe Crannach Caoimhe Crannach

ENEMIES: Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Derix Tirall Derix Tirall | Khione Khione | Aldo Garrick Aldo Garrick | Akûz the Ravager |

Reserve Heavy Attack Line:

Flagship: UES Samrata - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%) - Heavy Assault - 3.52K


2x Thoros II-class Battlecruiser - Heavy Assault - 4.2K

= UES Bulwark - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Sentinel - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)


2x Grievous-class Star Destroyer - - Heavy Assault - 1.89K

= UES Siren - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Flying Avento - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)


3x Argente-class Assault Cruiser - Assault - 0.96K

= UES Invader - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Avalanche - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Basilisk - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)


5x Murkhana-class Escort Frigate - Balanced - 0.43K

= UES Pathfinder - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Glory - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Promise - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Diplomat - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Harrier - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)



6x Terrus-class Flak Corvette - Defensive - 0.16K

= UES Bastion - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Trinity - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Signature - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Chimaera - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Vincent - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Mandalore - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)



6x Trench-class Fast Attack Corvette - Offensive - 0.11K

= UES Warlord - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Defiance - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Locket - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Inferno - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Hummingbird - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Invicta - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

It didn't seem to matter how many times you killed them. You could vaporize them with the heat of one thousand stars and they'd return. You could turn the very ground they walked on into a cloud of ephemeral dust, and they would return. You could…

The ever-present klaxon rang as the ships materialized into real space, occupying their own thicket of what would become the battlefield proper. Verin Oldo was, as always, geared, and ready for combat. Such large deployments were becoming increasingly common, gone were the days of singular nation-states deploying behemoth fleets and thrashing it out amongst the stars. Coalitions, alliances, and temporary ceasefires dominated the playbook now and today, it appeared, was to be the same.

He was wary of such things too. He had seen minor fleet actions turn into a quagmire of retreating destroyers, titanic cruisers colliding and imploding under sustained munitions fire, task forces entering hyperspace in the wrong direction, lost to the void or whatever orbiting body they may find themselves impacting at extreme speed.

The presence of ships of the NIO made him a little nervous; he made quite the career for himself fighting in actions against the Imperial forces, extremely competent and undeterred fighters whom he was glad to see sharing the same common goal today.

The Line under his command today was extremely capable and effective, the best that the Aruetti could muster. Their deployment was standard, the battlecruiser in the centre of the formation, flanked in the line by the Star Destroyers. The frigates and cruisers sat on either flank, inviting any enemy forces to assault down the central column that the force created. They would have to assault an array of flak and large ordnance, not to mention that large complement of fighters that would be present today. The Maw favoured their bombers and so the Enclave was ready for that.

The Roble ships present also held several aces; the solar ion cannons mounted on the Victator. These would unleash an insurmountable force of energy, all but decimating conventional shielding. They were painfully slow to charge but worth the wait if the other array of ordnance that sat inside the floating war machine could hold off the assault.

Verin sat on the command deck, the gantry suspended high above the rest of the bridge of his flagship, watching an array of screens, monitors, and consoles on either side of him. He took in the list of information as it poured in, status reports from commanding officers, comms checks from the task force.

His colleague and the leader of the fleet today was Vemric Keldra, the celebrated war hero and now, he was proud to say, friend. Keldra hailed Verin's ship and spoke.

"Let us not let them go down with it."

Verin smiled his smile, closing the comms. He pinged Vemric Kelda, notifying his superior that his own force was ready and on standby to undertake the orders, should they be forthcoming.

Yet another conflict, yet another victory, he prayed silently.

Verin spoke to the XO on deck, Captain Lark Telzack, in a soft but clipped tone, keeping his focus on the fragile moments of anticipation that greeted a force as it deployed.

"Captain, make ready all wings across the task force. I want rapid response fighters launched at a moment's notice. And prepare all stations for battle readiness. If this kicks off early, I want us to be prepared."

He thought back to Dantooine, the carnage of that encounter. They would always do better, always strive to be better. He had outlived the former political entity that he had served at that time; he wasn't about to dance with death now.
He watched as the fleet began to call in their status reports.

They were fully charged and ready to engage.

All ships checked in.
Fleet ordered into defensive formation.
Fleet ships ordered to raise shields and load their ordnance to repel any enemy attacks.
 
Revenant Squadron - Ten
Flight Lieutenant Qellene Tyliame - A-Wing Pilot


Aculia Voland Aculia Voland , Albrecht F. Herlock Albrecht F. Herlock , Aldo Garrick Aldo Garrick , Ari Naldax Ari Naldax , Artemis Toth Artemis Toth , Aximand Sicarus Aximand Sicarus , Balt Vizsla , Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber , Derix Tirall Derix Tirall , Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana , Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen , Mellifluous Magenta Mellifluous Magenta , Mith'akis'ormo Mith'akis'ormo , Mylo Thorne Mylo Thorne , Rex Valhoun Rex Valhoun , Romul Saxon Romul Saxon , The Amalgam The Amalgam , Tren Chaar Tren Chaar , Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha , VADM Tarsa Doon VADM Tarsa Doon , Vaux Gred Vaux Gred , Vemric Keldra , Verin Oldo Verin Oldo , Caoimhe Crannach Caoimhe Crannach


The hum of the machinery behind her leapt up, shooting through the controls, splattering against her fingers in faint and quick vibrations. Skirting the glasteel of the A-wing's canopy and bleeding through its sides was a droning wave, one that began to crescendo as the interceptor fired up its VTOL systems- finally breaking into a thundering boom as she accelerated from the Raptor's hangar.

Already, Tython's aerospace had become a flurry of noise. Loose volleys of cannon fire perforated the space between the allied and Mawite forces, some dissipating against the shields of neighboring vessels and annihilating some completely.

Qellene closed her eyes, briefly shuffling in her seat until she paused for a second of total motionless.

Dread. That horrible emotion washed across her body amidst the silence, pried open her eyes and locked her in a stare with the HUD, the red line tracking toward port... Into the maw of a
metal monster, a vessel bearing the silhouette of a mutant-- a failed lab experiment. And it was lumbering forward, clawed arms grasping for Tython, ready to tear into its surface and leave nothing but rubble and the smell of death behind.

The Brotherhood had a knack for that kind of thing, didn't they? A bitter laugh pried its way out of her throat, then a scowl tugged at the corners of her face.


"FU-" Her A-wing screamed in agony as Qellene snatched its reins, shooting off a cloud of exhaust as she barreled over a passing cruise missile. In moments, her guns ran alight, rapid volleys slicing across the warhead's body, reducing it to shreds mere inches from a frigate's shield bubble. Afterwards, Qellene let out a pained exhale, then sunk into her seat, groaning as an startlingly untroubled voice emerged from her comm link.


“All winds, report in,”

"Revenant Ten... Alive." She was slow to make the reply, still trying to catch her breath and drown her shock in the coldest, most deserted depths of her heart.

A sharp spike driven into her skull, raw fear overwhelmed her mind as a wave of motion tossed her A-wing to starboard. As the RCS jets fired to turn her nose to the source... Qellene found nothing but rubble-- the blackened ribcage of what once had been a frigate.

By the gods, the Brotherhood was going to pay for that.
 
will you sink down to me?
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We came to fight |
Don't make it easy |


Objective: III ~ Head of the Snake
Allegiance: GA / NJO allies
Location: en route to Akar Kesh
Tag: Judah Lesan Judah Lesan Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood


She didn't follow this time. Instead, she stayed on the summit, in the shadows as he had just bade her, and cocked her head to one side. She furrowed her brow.

What was that about seeing her coming a mile off?

"A'ight," she muttered again as she reached up to slide her trident-saber from its holster between her shoulder blades.

Smoke materialized and drew itself around her limbs. When it had engulfed her completely, the cloud drifted down the slight hill and towards the Bloodsworn. It quickly amassed enough speed to pass by Judah. Its wake would obscure a clear view of him for a few precious moments, which he could use to his advantage if he so chose.

She herself found her way into a relatively calm pocket of the onslaught: behind an overturned humvee. The vapor pooled into cover between its mud-crusted wheels before dissipating into nothingness and giving way to a crouching Damsy. She stood up with the support of her staff, twisting a panel on the handle as she did. Hot blue electricity began crackling between the metal trident prongs.

Jumping up onto the frame of the vehicle with help from the Force, she wound up to throw her weapon at a Bloodsworn who had dug into the grassland landscape after losing his ride a few meters in front of her.

  • Teleported into the active battlezone leading towards Akar Kesh
  • Trying to kick Bloodsworn butt / save Judah too I guess
 
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| Halketh Halketh |
||- .... . / -- --- -- . -. - / .. / ..-. . .-.. - / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .... . .- .-. - / ... - --- .--. ||

Score ▶
Steady was the rhythm of your heart. The one you shared with me and no other. The one that built walls around itself, dug a hole to hide within.

You were the same as I.
Misunderstood.
Misguided.

We had stories penned in pain. Wearing masks to hide our suffering. We decorated them with flowers and lined the edges with thorns. We built suits of armor and riddled them with warnings. Warnings we disregarded for chance. You were not afraid of my demons, nor I your ghosts.

I was the same as you.
Unloved.
Unwanted.

Together we discarded shallow reminders of false promises and fairy tales. Sent our wolves to tear apart our agony. We painted new markings on our bodies , chiseled away thorns of solitude.

A door was open.
The sea had parted.

And the heavens allowed mere moments of serenity for two souls that time forgot.

Find me on that mountain, the one from your dreams you spoke so fondly of. A place of refuge no one will ever find us.

Take my hand and don't look back.

There is peace now from the storm…

I will always love you Kezec.


-Ezra

 
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Be careful what you wish for.


Now with a free moment, Vanagor could scan the landscape as well as let the Force tend to his knee. It was a flesh wound and stung a little but it was fine. He would not be winning any sprint races and any time soon, but then again he never did. There was a feeling he was getting, some kind of disturbing thought as the big man was feeling the muscles and tendons rearrange themselves and sew back together naturally. He did not use the Force in the same way the other Jedi do, not anymore, this has been documented, but there is something else. It was as if someone was attempting to reach out to him.

Was it possible? The big man was more or less “Force Dead” to others out there, or at least that is what he thought. It was when Caltin could literally see Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel and the others that he understood. If he could see the former Silver GrandMaster, then the Wayseeker could see him. That meant he could at least try to do something. What they were doing out here, looked to be some sort of Battle Meditation or Force Valor. If they were trying to involve him, trying to contact him, he could do his best to connect with them.

Some kind of sword-wielding mercenary looked to be Mandalorian judging by the armor set up was dumb enough to attack him head-on. He respected the honorable move, make no mistake, but Caltin saw the amateurish stature of the method to which this warrior went about combat. He was young and that was a shame. Slashing, cutting, stabbing, none of these attacks landed, they were just too predictable and too obvious to a Jedi who has seen more fights than this… whoever he was… had seen days alive no doubt. This guy was deadly, but not cunning. It would be a shame to just kill the guy, or girl, whatever. Yes, this opponent wished deadly harm on the massive Jedi Master, but he was definitively not a threat. Grabbing the attacker by the shoulder and dropping to a knee as he swiveled his hips, twisted his back, and pulled threw the young warrior over the ridge. He had no jump-pack on him so they would not be seeing home for a while and the big man was pretty good with angles so the young one (relatively speaking) would not impact much more than a hard “trip and fall”.

Bending down to tend to his knee one more time when he heard a voice from above, a rockface. It was a kid.

“Hey you alright down there!? That looks like it was really painful!”

Did he really just say that?

Will you get down here. You can be seen by those you don’t want to see you!

Waving the kid down, Vanagor shifted his focus back to Starchaser and his group as the Jedi that the big man was around steeled themselves. Eyes on the Wayseeker, the massive Jedi Master went back to basics and focused on his thoughts. Caltin focused on the memories he had of and around the “current” Coren Starchaser, as well as around the “Coren Starchaser” that he knew from “back in the day” as he looked their way with a focus of a Death Star firing on something that was so obscenely fat that the world killer would need three shots.

Suddenly Caltin started to feel something, he felt the voice in his head focusing on the mission itself. He found himself thinking about the New Jedi Order Jedi in his alliance. He had the feeling, the notion of preparing further all the while a general feeling, a need to combat the Dark and protect the Light. This was not what Caltin was thinking. It was business-like, too much a cold approach. These thoughts were not his. They were Coren’s!

IT WORKED!

It was not like before, maybe not yet anyway as the big guy could not converse, but he could now at least communicate in a manner of speaking. This was going to work the more he focused his attention on the Wayseekers the more he was… energized. It suddenly felt as if he had the strength and will of a thousand Jedi Orders. It was exhilarating. So this os what Force Valor felt like.

Eyes closed, the big man felt something that the hadn’t in a long time. He felt purpose. Sure, he was here to defend the light, defend the innocent and so on, it was who he was, but it was his “choice” to be here before now. Now it was his purpose, his reason for being, not just to stand, but stand for more than he could ever hope for, for more than he could ever hope to be. The massive Jedi Master had not felt this alive in over eight hundred years.

The kid was still up there, looked to be climbing down but he was now exposed. A TIE fighter was on an attack run and had the kid in its sights. There was little more than a second to respond. The pilot was ready to fire when suddenly his controls were frozen, he could not move them or flip any switches. He could not move at all. Especially when the space superiority fighter was engulfed by tendrils of electrical energy, Force Stasis could be scary. Then suddenly the pilot went from having some Jedi kid in his sights to seeing nothing but sky, to seeing his wingmate’s fear as they collided only to erupt in a ball of ion flame.

As the cluster of two fighters fell to the ground in a shower of transparisteel, Caltin just eyed the younger Lesan.

Now, will you get down?


TAG Allies:
Cotan Sar'andor Zark San Tekka Celeste Rigel Romi Jade Romi Jade Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Judah Lesan Judah Lesan , @Asmunder Varobalder Justice Lesan Justice Lesan
 
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ALLIES : DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra Annor E-059 Julian Qar Julian Qar Aerys Myrrine Jas Katis Jas Katis Asanté Tsilor Asanté Tsilor Ollis Barran Ollis Barran Nukth Kelga'an Nukth Kelga'an Jerec Yularen Jerec Yularen Roxy Rizzan Roxy Rizzan


1st Armoured-Infantry Division,
3rd Battalion (Bramber)

South of the Plains (Lion insignia)​
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The ticking hum of the Cataphract was a reliable and comforting noise to the soldiery, Lord-Captain Tarring had been assured. There was some truth to it, he had admitted. The reassuring constancy of the engine, the whirring of the servos and the cackling of the gunnery array found some disturbing harmonic symbiosis with those that occupied them, the shell that surrounded them becoming a living entity.

"You can hear 'ow they are, Captain. You just know what she needs, if you get me, sir"

Bex had taken off his officer's hat, wiped a small bead of sweat from his brow and then looked at the insignia on the front of the brow.

"Yes, I understand, Corporal. I understand quite entirely."

The road to Tython had been a long one, paved with the blood of the dead of Bramber, the counties that served to feed the large city of Thames on Galidraan. Unlike the broader, uglier types that occupied the north of the planet's landmasses, the arable lands found in the south were far more useful for agricultural pursuits, a hardy but cheerful group of honest folks who lived their lives tilling the land until their gentle return to it one day.

The soldiers from Bramber were a reliable class of soldier, well-drilled and professional, if not a little rough around the edges at times. Their deployment was part of the larger Imperial forces that were amassing to tackle the threat of the Maw, tasked with ending their crusade once and for all.


^^^^^^^^^^
Bex Tarring, the commander of the Bramber forces deployed today, sat in his command vehicle, ahead of the two companies of Cataphract tanks that trundled towards the designated deployment area. With the mountains to their south, the massed Imperial forces were making rapidly from their various LZs and racing to catch the main body of the army.

Hurst Company, led by Lieutenant Cooper, and Lewes Company, commanded by Lieutenant Hall, were both 17 tanks apiece, three platoons and a command platoon designated to take charge. They were to join the boys of Henfield Company, a small detachment of infantry who were already broached to join the mass of soldiers ahead at the main LZ.

Bex ate another piece of toast, a thin layer of an orange marmalade scooped on top, the tang tasting sharp in his mouth. His adjutant, Gaden Horsham, smirked somewhat. Bex looked up at him.


"What is it now, Gaden?"

The wiry man lifted each foot lightly, padding somewhat as he spoke.

"Nothing at all, sir", a chuckle emanating from his mouth as he spoke.

Bex frowned. His voice rose, keen to discover the source of his batman's good humour this day.


"I won't hesitate to choke you to death with this sourdough if you…"

Gaden laughed heartily, banging the table with his palm as he did so.

"I was just thinking, sir. All of them oranges, grown with such love and care, end up mashed and pulverised for your breakfast. I wonder if the orange knew it would end up on Tython, what it might think?"

Bex hummed to himself, wiping the crumbs from his light moustache and stubble.


"It's a fair point, Gaden, I'll give you that. I'm sure it would be thoroughly annoyed at the prospect. You think it would prefer to stay home, never see the world?"

Gaden handed Bex another piece of toast.

"Truth be told, sir, if it meant the orange wasn't mashed and maimed, I reckon it just might."

There was a brief pause, only a reliable and comforting ticking hum to be heard. Bex wasn't sure if they were talking about oranges anymore. The irony wasn't lost on him, that was for certain. He knew this line of work would take brave men far away from home to possibly never return, 'mashed and pulverised' in the machines of war. That was always a bitter taste to take, less the sweetness of the marmalade.

"They'll do their duty, Gaden."

Gaden looked up, a glint in his eye.

"The oranges, sir?"

Bex nodded, knowingly.

"Yes. The oranges."


Hurst Company

"From sun-up to the dusk,

The men of Bramber toil.

With ne'er a sign of lusk

We till the fertile soil."



"You've got the worst singing voice I've ever heard!" bellowed 2nd Lieutenant Dash down his comms, his voice ringing through the tanks of the 1st platoon.

Not to be silenced, 2nd Lieutenant Painter retorted down his own set of comms, egged on by the tanks of his own platoon, the 2nd.


"Says you! I've heard bovines with more harmonious flatulence!"

The snorts and cackles down the various headsets were piercing as it squeezed out the earpieces, distorting a little as the company-wide relay was utilised for possibly the last moments of levity.

They knew that Lieutenant Cooper, commanding officer of the Hurst Company, would silence them shortly, barking out a reliable set of instructions that hadn't changed in the year he'd been assigned to them. He'd list a set of regulation orders about forming up, checking the diagnostics, and ensuring the firing mechanisms were ready and functioning. His first engagement with the Company hadn't been as textbook as they'd hoped.

They had been engaging some enemy on some foreign planet and the tanks of the company were engaged against a highly mobile mechanised force. Sat pronely, Cooper's tank had stumbled across a larger machine, slowly turning its sight onto their own Cataphract. He had engaged the smoke dispersal, a series of canisters that would release a thick smoke that would disperse and cover their escape, buying them much needed time to make good their retreat…except the canisters didn't disperse. Or engage. Or ignite. Or any such thing.

The tank stood, devoid of any protection as Cooper hit the floor catchment that activated it. He kicked and kicked, a level of panic rising in him as he watched the muzzle of the enemy tank swing round to face his own. The shot from the Cataphract had made absolutely no mark on the thick frontal armour of this enemy behemoth.

Suddenly, the large beast exploded and popped open from a round that impacted its side, sparks of durasteel flying and eviscerating any living soul that had been inside it. Post engagement analysis had found that troopers had stored several cans of contraband booze in the perfectly corresponding tubes that housed the smoke dispersal system. Cooper wasn't best pleased.


Lewes Company

Lieutenant Hall was a fair man. Not of noble birth, like Cooper, he was a man risen to favour and responsibility, his commission paid for in blood and excellent service on the field of war. His voice was less the clipped tones of the upper classes but more the broad, open honest sounds of a man who had spent his youth in the fields, chasing stray equines and wrestling dogs.

Hall laughed a little, an easy voice that chattered. His kind face, shielded by his helmet, wrinkled as he itched his nose, listening to the banter that flew back and forth between the companies.


"Keep it together, boys. The Lord-Captain will want us clear-headed for this. No mistakes today."

He tried not to be too harsh on the men of his Company. They were a different sort to the Hursts. The Lewes boys lived near the sea and thus had a generally different approach to those who toiled on the Downs that fed the cities nearby. He thought of home, how the sea rippled across the countless shells and stones that made up the shoreline, how the gulls screeched as they attempted to steal your lunch from your very hands. How the boats would return from their troubles, laden with fish for the town.

He began to hum a little absently, the melody that always came to him in these moments. It was a song known to all the people of Bramber, young, old, Soldier or worker alike. They would sing it at county fairs, schools fetes, and occasions of importance to the County. They had all heard it on the parade ground, the military band playing it with bombast, rousing fervour ringing in their ears.

The words formed in his mouth, a lustrous baritone taking up the falling melody.


"From sun-up to the dusk,

The men of Bramber toil.

With ne'er a sign of lusk

We till the fertile soil.

We Bramber men are hardy

And lads of strength and might

With courage as our ally,

We stay the troubled fight.



For Bramber is our homeland,

We love the Downland so,

From Weald to sunken Valley

No place we'd rather know

For Bramber is our homeland,

Our hearts are born of there,

So lay us down in Bramber

Without a woe nor care."



Command Transport,

Lord-Captain Bex Tarring



"We've got confirmation, sir. We're heading to LZ-3. They're depleted so we'll be taking on the heavy-duty lifting, it seems."

Bex hummed to himself, as he so often did when he was thinking. He had to ensure they didn't out-manoeuvre the other mechanised infantry that was racing towards the enemy.

"The Sabretooths functioning?" he opted to his adjutant.

Horsham sighed between his teeth.


"They'll do, for the moment. Not sure they'd take the brunt of the beating that's due them…speaking frankly, sir."

"No worries, Horsham. 'Frankly' is good. No point lying to me to stand on ceremony. She's a menace to the battalion but that doesn't matter much now. Gives us a chance to show our metal to the enemy."


‘Hurst Company’

Command-5 tanks Lieutenant Cooper

1 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Dash

2 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Painter

3 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Datum



‘Lewes Company’

Command-5 tanks Lieutenant Hall

1 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Fifield

2 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Plowman

3 platoon-4 tanks 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] Lieutenant Jervis


‘Henfield Company’
Captain Base Danyell

1 platoon-60 (x2 APC)
2 platoon-60 (x2APC)
3 platoon-60 (x2APC)
3 platoon-60 (x2APC)

Headed towards LZ-3 in South East of Map. Vigilant
 
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Hacking and slashing at her foes, Ishani’s personal energy shield absorbed most of the blaster fire shot her way. To avoid overheating, she tried to dodge as much as she could, weaving around their ranks and even causing a few Mawites to accidentally shoot their allies in the process.

At least, until she realized they were actively going out of their way to shoot each other.

This bewildering turn of events seemed without explanation. Ishani almost felt bad as she watched marauders mowing down their brethren. Almost.

“Hold!” someone shouted over the roar of fire. “It tricked us! The demon deceived us!”

Well yeah, that’s what they do, she thought bemusedly, gutting another bloodthirsty zealot. Who or what was this “demon”, anyway?

As was her habit, Ishani had doused herself with perfume prior to marching into battle. She had layered several of her alchemized concoctions in hopes of accentuating her prowess and protecting herself from a wide variety of ills. Alas, the one perfume she hadn’t been able to find in her stash was Chthonic, the notorious spirit-repellent.

A chill ran down her spine at the thought that there might be some spirit afoot, wreaking havoc on the battlefield. Her one consolation was that whatever it was, it seemed to be on their side.

Her blade whistled as she chopped the throat of an aspirant, a gush of purple alien gore splattering across her breastplate. The energy shield had overloaded, as she'd feared. The Mawites around her seemed to notice this, as several descended upon her at once. She clenched her teeth against the pain as something hard and heavy slammed into her back, causing something to crack, before unleashing a tidal wave of telekinetic energy, scattering them in all directions. Her gaze was furious, green eyes the frigid color of chlorine ice as she turned her fury upon them.

Kal Kal
 
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Leader: CDR Tren Chaar Tren Chaar
Three: FO Ran Serys
Five: FLT Kaul "Joker" Emos
Six: FO Mylo Thorne Mylo Thorne
Seven: FO Leon Gallo
Ten: FL Qellene Tyliame Qellene Tyliame
Eleven: FO Zev Garallia
Twelve: FO Tristram Vos


The sound of her boots made a satisfying click click click as she sprang into action. She had thrown the last of her unappetizing pudding down as swiftly as she could, taking some small joy in the fact it landed neatly into the tray container that sat in front of her. Already in her flight suit, she made her way down the long corridor that separated the squadron's mess hall and the assigned flight deck, the klaxons ringing out like a siren, calling her to action.

The flight deck was airy and fresh. She knew it wasn't real air but a manufactured round of oxygen that kept the deck cool and breathable and yet it still gave her a rush. So close to the great expanse that she would be bursting into in mere seconds.

There it was her. Her A-wing. She'd been through several scrapes with her, and she had made sure to take good care of her, the rest of the flight deck knowing how exacting she was with the personalized systems that she made calibrated within an inch of her life. The handling was how she liked it, the response how she needed it.

The ascent into the cockpit was the last little exertion she took, sitting swiftly and feeling the padded seat beneath her as it cushioned her. She began to run the rapid pre-flight checks, the astromech that had just been installed beginning its series of beeps and whistles.


"Good morning to you too, A-G7. She's good to go."

The last moments flew by and the A-wing lurched into the exit pattern, watching as other fighters ran the gauntlet into the vast expanse.

The view that met her eyes was astonishing. Hundreds of capital ships, a near opaque mesh of color on her display as it began to process the various call signs and ship transponders that denoted the various factions present. She began to form up, looking for the numerous members of the Revenant Squadron.

A volley of blaster fire pocketed her shields, causing the first of what would be a long day of alarm calls to emanate from the fighter. She was racing as fast as she could now, tailing her other squadron pilots.

The boss called out. She answered swiftly.


"This is Rev 9, standing by."

Em tried to make sure she caught a steady path, matching the speed of her CO Qellene Tyliame Qellene Tyliame .

"Its a tough one today, boss! I think the drinks are on me after this one."

Em was doing her best to reassure the FL that she had her back, no matter what.

Launched from the capital ship. Checked in with the squadron. Awaiting orders. Headed towards Maw positions in A-wing
 

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Kahlil gave Valery one last smile as he watched her. They were close, they could feel as much even before their shuttle came under fire. He closed his eyes. Where a spark had lit in Valery Noble Valery Noble , he let a calm wash over him. He took a breath. The chaos of voices around him faded to nothingness. The Dark ahead was powerful, chaotic in it's own way. Were they butchering people inside? He'd take a guess and assume yes. The Crimson Hands were notorious cannibals.

But that too, he let fade. Everything. On Teta he'd held onto his emotions for his family. Vera's safety, the destruction of her home. Their home. To be Jedi was to act above emotion. Not to the extent of ignoring them. Jedi weren't droids. Kahlil had failed to do that before. But not now. Vera was safe. Valery was her own powerful Master of the Jedi. So he let it go. And in the dark void of nothing, the Force waited.

The ship landed and the ramp dropped. Chaos began anew, blaster fire ripping into the shuttle around him. He exhaled as he stepped out. Brought his blade up. And moved. With no fear, no attachment, the Jedi weaved through the cannibals. Neither blade nor blaster could reach him. His blade passively cut through each that stood in his way as he cleared through the hallway.
 

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Rain?

Surea turned her head towards the sky. Not to see the clouds, but to let the water wash over her. Rain. When was the last time she'd felt rain on her skin? Not that it could be compared to her earlier memories when her flesh wasn't so rotted and numb. The grass around her melted under the water like dust, staining what should have been clear a deep scarlet. As the water spread, so too would the red. The rot she brought.

Deeper. The storms natural to Tython, perhaps those would help to spread her rot more than she initially thought. Not that this rain was one of those.

She pulled free her stolen saber, igniting the red blade. The one who caused the rain was ahead. And another behind. Someone familiar? The one that offered her help. The one trying to cure the rot. Surea reached back, pulling free a wicked looking dagger. Alchemized. An upgrade from the vibrodagger she'd been holding onto. "Well?" There she waited, holding both blades in hand.

The rot had begun to fester here. She'd set the seeds. Now she just needed to watch it bloom, and stop anyone who dared to get in the way.

"We're not here to talk."

Amani Serys Amani Serys | Arlo Renard Arlo Renard
 

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1st Brigade Combat Group 'Death's Head'
IMPERIAL ARMY
TEMPLE VALLEY OFFENSIVE
BATTLE OF MOUNT KALIGAN

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Map_The_Blank_2022-04-16T18_01_45.299Z.png
//TEMPLE VALLEY OFFENSIVE
// BATTLE FOR MOUNT KALIGAN​
// 1ST BRIGADE COMBAT GROUP 'DEATH'S HEAD'​
BATTALION​
LOCATION​
STRENGTH​
1STRM​
(5,0)​
[2/3]​
2STRM​
(5,1)​
[3/3]​
3STRM​
(5,2)​
[3/3]​
4STRM​
(5,3)​
[3/3]​
5STRM​
(5,4)​
[2/3]​

ACTIONS:
//DEFEND
  • 1STRM roll DEFEND [3] vs 1MAW roll ATTACK [6]
  • 3STRM roll DEFEND [5] vs 3MAW roll ATTACK [2]
  • 5STRM roll DEFEND [2] vs 5MAW roll ATTACK [4]

//ATTACK
  • 1STRM roll ATTACK [1] vs 1MAW | Infiltration assault, spearhead by Kolson Vrask Kolson Vrask
  • 2STRM roll ATTACK [2] vs 2MAW | Artillery covering infantry thrust
  • 3STRM roll ATTACK [1] vs 3MAW | Artillery covering infantry thrust
  • 4STRM roll ATTACK [1] vs 4MAW | Artillery covering infantry thrust

OUTCOME:
  • 1STRM lose 1 Strength
  • 3MAW lose 1 Strength
  • 5STRM lose 1 Strength


The Second Great Hyperspace War.

Hyperspace War Two, The Great Error, and so on. It carried many names but they all meant one single thing—the war to end all wars. A noble path paved with the blood of billions. A war to reshape the galactic order, a war to change forever the hierarchy of power across the stars.

How long had it been?

Minutes turned to years on the battlefield and years turned to minutes in the war. Time was no longer measured through these traditional units—it was counted by blood.

Colonel Saul Tagge could barely remember his last shore leave. The vestiges of these memories slipped away from his mind. There was no telling what was true and what was not.

Steel yourself, you fool.

Reality came with the first drops of sweat running down into his eyes. He brushed the salty droplets away and blinked at the sky above. The sun was bloated by unnatural storms swallowing the sky and razor-sharp gales ravaged the land. He should've been freezing and yet he felt as if the sun was burning a hole right through his flesh.

"Sir!" Major Skorzef stormed inside the command tent, chest heaving for breath, "Reports from the front--" a holoprojection materialized from his wrist showing a tactical view of the field of battle, "--heavy mortar fire has stalled the advance of the 1st, 3rd, and 5th Battalions. Casualties reported being light for the 3rd... not as much for the 1st and 5th." the Major added with a sigh, then, "2nd and 4th have reported contact with the enemy here (4,3) and here (4,1)."

"Blasted mountains." the Colonel cursed gritting his teeth as he examined the reports flowing in. The cultists may be savages but only an armchair general would disregard their tactical capacity in battle, or rather their unrivaled adaptability. Years ago, the Maw was nothing more than a barely collected band of marauders rampaging through the Unknown Regions. But today, with each battle, each skirmish, they had been able to soak up that experience better than any galactic nation's army.

They learned faster than any other enemy the Colonel had faced before.

And the lessons they learned, they employed on their own teachers.

With no remorse.

Look no further than Noris for evidence.

"Bar the 5th, order all other battalions to attack. Our objectives are clear, Major - Mount Kaligan must be taken. The whole Temple Valley Offensive may very well depend on it."
 


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Allies: Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor | Team Lightside
Enemies: Darth Libertas Darth Libertas (in vicinity) | Team Darkside
Location: Marching on Ruined Temple

The build-up of energy from the sheer amount of Force-users in the area was staggering. So many minds and hearts connected across the planet, on the ground and in orbit. It emboldened, inspired, gave hope. This, he was certain, was the true power of the Jedi; that they were all part of the same connective tissue - that weave which bound the universe together, transcending time and space as spirits of the old guided the young, the dead the living.

So it was that when Coren and Celeste, husband and wife, both joined the collective consciousness of Jedi present, Thurion Heavenshield followed suit.

Today, we invoke the names of Brin, Jard, Rajivari, and Sendon; of Windu, Kenobi, Yoda, and Skywalker! All these and more stand with you this day! Fight for them, and for each other!

Igniting his lightsaber, the brilliant blue blade of his oldest companion brought with it memories of his countless battles past. Today was to be the last of their struggles together; in victory or defeat, it would be granted its rest long overdue. Similarly, the rush of impending combat also ignited within Thurion his people's innate lust for war. Not exactly a point of pride for the otherwise peaceful Jedi Master, but a trait that had served him well when allowed to take hold at crucial moments.

Ahead was Caltin and his company already under assault by the ruined Jedi Temple, causing his strides as well as those beside him to hasten. With lightsabers drawn they deflected any and all blaster rounds fired their way, and soon they broke into a full charge, wading into the Sith forces and reinforcing Master Vanagor's beleaguered troops.

Thurion leaped into the air to slam down from above where the fighting was thickest, roaring like the beast he'd taken after as the impact of his landing caused a telekinetic shockwave sending enemy combatants flying. His lightsaber arced in a circle around him as he picked up the poor sod he'd landed on and through brute strength hoisted him high before breaking his back upon his knee, after which he discarded the body and stood just in time to return the lightsaber to his palm.

Mistake not the lion's gentleness towards his kin for lack of ferocity towards his foes.


"Sorry we're late," he shouted to Caltin over the noise of battle.
 
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