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In truth, The Slave didn’t mind if they separated or not. As the blade broke through the medic’s core, splitting him in half with the most visceral of strikes, a single bolt shuddered his cloak and bounced off his pauldron. Shrugging it off, The Slave watched as smoke filled the area and left him stuck alone between the many buildings that surrounded him. He smiled once more, using his palm controls to turn on his thermal vision overlay and continue the hunt.
As the many soon became the few, The Slave’s most rational choice was to end the next strongest target. He was already bleeding, that much was true, but he was also now victim to the whim of the sword he carried; who’s ever present song carried through the hollowed carcasses that surrounded them with its haunting tune. With cloaking systems still active, he began the march to follow the now enraged Dusaro.
It always interested The Slave why people like him fell so low when faced with adversity such as this. Was it not the Jedi way to remain their calm in times of struggle? Not to fall to the weakness of their emotions? It wasn’t that The Slave cared if they did, in fact he expected it, but it was the principle of the matter. Offering a quick flurry of the sword within the smoke brought him back to his current train of thought, to end the life of a Jedi.
As all his senses seemed to be against him now, he was walking blind and deaf into a battle with a demon. Instant karma for their transgression, so it would seem, but one Dusaro likely didn’t understand in the way The Slave seemed to. The way he pictured it in his head, that is.
While slowly closing the distance between the two, The Slave brought out his sidearm; a notable verpine shatter gun known simply as The High. Three rounds broke the smoke without a sound, finding their way to where the padawan’s thigh would appear. It was doubtful he would dodge it, but he hadn’t disappointed yet; The Slave only hoped he would continue to impress.
Marek almost felt satisfied with the blow he managed to land, almost. The Sith brought up some sort of shield he didn't recognize and thundered towards him at a breakneck speed. Common sense indicated smacking his blade against the shield would be foolish, which left him to find other ways to harm his opponent.
Countering what blows he could Marek found that his armor slowed him just enough to allow the Sith to landed numerous blows with his enhanced speed. Most simply bounced off the armor that managed to break through his defense, but one cascaded off his shoulder pauldron and instead cut a slit into the gap which allowed him to flex his elbow.
He gritted his teeth as a searing pain shout through him as the arm dropped away from the hilt. It wasn't out of commission yet, but it hurt damn bad. Using his other hand, Marek flipped his blade into the reverse grip he'd once favored and drew on the force to accelerate his own reflexes. He caught the Sith's blade in a lock, and for a moment the blades hissed angrily against each other and Marek would look on the Sith with a mix of regret and determination. One more that in all likelihood couldn't be saved, wouldn't be.
"I'm sorry for whatever they did to make you think this is right." The Jedi sighed, his injured arm coming up and unleashing a blast of telekinetic energy at the Sith Lord, intended to propel him into the rubble of the balcony he'd tried to drop onto Marek. The Jedi couldn't very well stab the man, but he could give him plenty of blunt force trauma by flinging him into slabs of duracrete. Hopefully.
Location: Mirial System, Outer Edge Objective: Deploy Recon Team and Retreat Allies: Silver Jedi and Allies Enemies: Sith Empire and Allies Equipment: In Signature
Command Deck // ANS Hereafter Outer Heliosphere // Mirial System Galactic Alliance Fifth Expeditionary Fleet
"Contact!" a cry pierced the already chaotic bridge of the Alliance task force's command ship, "Mass hyperspatial reversions detected!"
"Any chance it could be more Silver Jedi reinforcements?" Commander Bashir murmured next his superior officer.
"No," Zark had felt their coming even before the star carrier had picked them up on long range sensors, "The Sith have come in force."
Commodore Duilius had proved an admirable opponent, and while vessels on both sides had taken damage between the Sith officer's faster patrol ships and the Vice Admiral's superior defenses and fighter support the two had battled each other into a stalemate of sorts. He had been content to wear his enemy down, confident that his men's training and what little he could provide in the way of battle meditation would win out in the end. As the sensor station reported the scale of enemy reinforcements now jumping into system, the full scope of Zark's error finally became clear.
The entire time he thought he had been distracting the Sith patrol from harrying the surface, Duilius had simply been holding out until the battlefield shifted in his favor.
"Well played, Commodore," the Vice Admiral murmured to himself, then without opening his eyes to break concentration turned towards navigation, "Disengage and begin plotting an emergency jump! Commander, order all ships to do the same."
"Aye, sir!"
System control was all but lost now, he could not hope to destroy his current enemy in time, and even if the patrol force were no longer a factor, Zark could throw everything he had at the rapidly encroaching Sith warfleet and not even hope to slow them down on their way to Mirial. It was far more important that his task force escaped to provide relief for the Silver Jedi contingent they had by now discovered was on the world's surface, and to report back their findings to High Command on the true scale of this resurgent Sith Empire.
But the Jedi Knight could not help but remember the promise he had made to their enemy, that the people of Mirial were under his protection. It was true that he had meant it mainly to be provocative, but it did not sit right with either the Jedi or Alliance officer in him to retreat without at least assessing the status of the system populace. What fate awaited the Mirialans for what had happened here today? What cruel subjugations had they endured under so called Sith sovereignty already? He could not let it go.
"Commander Bashir, with me," he said finally, drawing an alarmed expression from his XO, "Lieutenant Commander Celys, you have the con. Continue evasive maneuvers, wait to execute jump on my order."
As he walked the Mon Cal briskly back to his ready room, the Hereafter's Arkanian offshoot third officer leaped to take over supervision of the task force's evacuation.
Hangar Dorn // ANS Hereafter
"Alright listen up morons!" Colonel Hal Varik of the Alliance Pathfinders shouted, "If you're standing in front of me it means you have made the dumbest choice of your lives by volunteering for this suicide mission!"
Hal stood in front of a crowd of commandos much like himself. The rest of the Pathfinders on board had volunteered down to a soul, and mixed among them were a fair number of Irregulars. A few army snipers and a team from the corps of engineers rounded out the strike force, but despite the accumulated skill and training between them it felt a little like spitting into a whirlwind to the grizzled Corellian special forces commander.
"Our objective is to land on Mirial, provide an assessment of the situation, and if possible render aid to the civilian populace! The plan is to evade the enemy until such time as an extraction can be arranged, but make no mistake! Assuming the Sith armada doesn't overtake us and our escorts and blow us out of space and what's left of the planet's anti-air doesn't manage to tear us to ribbons, the best you can hope for on the surface is a quick death in the service of the Alliance! The worst...none of us can possibly imagine."
Colonel Varik stared down the line of troopers assembled before the U-Wing transports.
"Anyone not wanna go?!" he asked.
Silence reigned throughout the hangar bay.
"Alright you beautiful idiots, mount up!"
Varik was the last one aboard, or at least he thought he was, until an obsidian plated prosthetic hand halted the shuttle's hatch from closing.
"Admiral?" Hal's eyes widened when he realized who it was, "Shouldn't you be up on the bridge, you know...making sure we all don't die?"
"Probably," Zark admitted, stepping inside the U-Wing and closing the hatch behind him, "But I'm not about to send you into hell without the only Force trained soldier on board."
"What about the task force?" the Corellian asked as he watched the flag officer begin to strap himself in for the drop.
"Bashir has his orders. He knows what to do," looking up at Hal, the Jedi Knight grinned, "Besides, High Command would probably lock me up this time for starting another war."
"You mean for having the courage to admit the war's not won."
Heartened by his comrade's words, the two clasped arms as Zark helped Colonel Varik into a seat on the already moving U-Wing.
Task Force Hereafter - 5th Expeditionary "Into the unknown."
6540 meters
Name: ANS Crusader Class: Scythe-class Heavy Cruiser (1000m) Shield/Hull: 50/90
Armament: Average Defence: High Speed: Average Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: 1 CF10 Crossfire Squadron, 1 D-Wing Squadron, 1 A-Wing Squadron.
Actions: Disengaging with Patrol Task Group Seven. Plotting jump out of system.
Name: ANS Gladiator Class: Scythe-class Heavy Cruiser (1000m) Shield/Hull: 50/90
Armament: Average Defence: High Speed: Average Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: 1 CF10 Crossfire Squadron, 1 D-Wing Squadron, 1 A-Wing Squadron.
Actions: Disengaging with Patrol Task Group Seven. Plotting jump out of system.
Name: ANS Absolution Class: Dreadnought-class Mark III Escort Cruiser (700m) Shield/Hull: 50/85
Armament: High Defence: Average Speed: Low Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: Dropships.
Actions: Disengaging with Patrol Task Group Seven. Plotting jump out of system.
Name: ANS Sluissi Dream Class: Essex-class Starfighter Killer (120m) Shield/Hull: 25/80
Armament: Moderate Defence: Average Speed: Moderate Manoeuvre: Average
Hangar: -
Actions: Disengaging with Patrol Task Group Seven. Plotting jump out of system.
Name: ANS Ascendant Class: Dreadnought-class Mark III Escort Cruiser (700m) Shield/Hull: 50/85
Armament: High Defence: Average Speed: Low Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: Dropships.
Actions: Disengaging with Patrol Task Group Seven. Plotting jump out of system.
Name: ANS Rivers of Arbra Class: Essex-class Starfighter Killer (120m) Shield/Hull: 25/80
Armament: Moderate Defence: Average Speed: Moderate Manoeuvre: Average
Hangar: -
Actions: Disengaging with Patrol Task Group Seven. Plotting jump out of system.
Name: ANS Hereafter Class: Citadel-class Star Carrier (1800m) Shield/Hull: 75/96
Armament: High Defence: High Speed: Average Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: 5 CF10 Crossfire Squadrons, 4 D-Wing Squadrons, 1 A-Wing Squadron.
Actions: Disengaging with Patrol Task Group Seven. Plotting jump out of system.
Name: ANS Mercy Class: Valor-class Carrier (980m) Shield/Hull: 100/100
Armament: Very Low Defence: Average Speed: High Manoeuvre: Moderate
Hangar: 3 Sprite X-Wing Squadrons, 2 D-Wing Squadrons, 2 A-Wing Squadrons.
Actions: Disengaging with Patrol Task Group Seven. Plotting jump out of system.
Name: ANS Remember Eriadu Class: Essex-class Starfighter Killer (120m) Shield/Hull: 25/80
Armament: Moderate Defence: Average Speed: Moderate Manoeuvre: Average
Hangar: -
Actions: Disengaging with Patrol Task Group Seven. Plotting jump out of system.
Assault One
24x CF10 Crossfire Fighters
20x D-Wing Fast Bombers
Actions: Crossfires escorting U-Wing transports towards Mirial, D-Wings returning to motherships.
Assault Two
24x CF10 Crossfire Fighters
20x D-Wing Fast Bombers
Actions: Returning to motherships.
Assault Three
24x CF10 Crossfire Fighters
20x D-Wing Fast Bombers
Actions: Returning to motherships.
Assault Four
24x Sprite X-Wing Fighters
20x D-Wing Fast Bombers
Actions: X-Wings escorting transports towards Mirial. D-Wings returning to motherships.
Intercept One
42x A-Wing Interceptors
12x CF10 Crossfire Fighters
Actions: Returning to motherships.
Intercept Two
28x A-Wing Interceptors
12x Sprite X-Wing Fighters
Actions: Escorting U-Wing transports towards Mirial.
Planetfall One
1 Stealth U-Wing
11 U-Wing Transports
Actions: Launching for Mirial's surface.
Summary of Actions
Task Force Hereafter disengages from Patrol Task Group Seven, begins plotting emergency jump out of the system.
A strike group of 12 U-Wings are dispatched on a force recon mission to Mirial's surface, along with a an escort of 36 X-Wings, 24 Crossfires, and 28 A-Wings. All other fighters return to base.
Location: Mirial Capital Objective: Space Vikings vs Terminators (Save Yuroic's bacon) Allies: SJO, Mirialan Rebels/Separatists, Dominion Remnant ([member="Yuroic Xeraic"]) Enemies: TSE, Mirialan Death Cultists ([member="Enyo Typhos"]) Directly Engaging: Enyo (Unit actions will be background noise for me as we duel)
Unit: 48 Berserkers (standard loadouts, sans Light Gun and Sigil of Hope)
Yuroic Xeraic said:
This is Yuroic Xeraic, I am in big trouble and in need of desperate assistance. Please respond to my location, being sent now. It was a simple message that he hoped someone would hear as he continued to focus on the duel to survive.
Before the Pantera were forced to leave the capital airspace, Sigrid and her platoon (48) of Berserkers would be one of the units that responded to the Jedi's distress call. With their own flight capable power armor, the Valkyri bounded straight off the hangar deck into the night sky for a high altitude dive.
Past the cover of cloud tops, fighters and gunships came into view, lighting up the sky with lances of beam fire. They refrained from activating their thrusters until they hit low altitude to avoid the attention of enemy interceptors above, and all possible AA countermeasures below.
The whole way down, Sigrid couldn't help but grin. Where others shied away from conflict, the Valkyri welcomed it. Sweet vengeance for Midvinter was finally at hand, and she would relish every moment of it.
After a small flip and quick boost to slow her rate of descent, she landed with a hard thud against the rooftop of one half-ruined building, spider-line cracks forming outward from the point of impact. It would be a similar story for the rest of her platoon, all landing upon elevated positions within a 100-meter radius.
"Hyena-01 to Xeraic. My unit just made planetfall and we're heading your way on foot. We'll be there in a few minutes." There was still a heavy accent to her Basic, but she could now speak fluently without much issue.
With a single command, the Berserkers sprinted toward the location, using their thrusters to boost across rooftops and ledges when necessary. As they moved, their comms came alive with all sorts of pained groaning and even a few screams, all coming from Ranger and Rebel units around them. Between the buildings, they could see Mirilians rampaging through the streets and alleyways like they were possessed, even as they were far away from any hotspots of conflict. It was all strange.
<What the hell is going on?> Arvid, one of her squad leaders, asked in their native tongue. <It sounds like everyone is going mad. This is beyond war.>
<I'm not sure, but no doubt it's the work of the Sith.> In fact, a Sith had put terrible events into motion to drive the whole city mad with fear, but the Beserkers remain unaffected as they each carried a Ysalamir in a sealed nutrient frame.
As they arrived within a block of the fighting. She could make out the flashes of fire from beam weapons and ion rippers, and blips would appear on her corner map on her HUD, detailing the location of friendly forces in relation to hostile elements. The other unit assisting the Jedi was identified as Bravo Company of the 605th Ranger Regiment.
"Hyena-01 to Bravo, we're now in the vicinity to provide backup, but I need a sitrep. And what's with all the strange comm chatter I've been hearing?"
"Bravo to Hyena," a male voice answered back, sounding quite strained. "We're being overrun by some... these things. They're cleaving through us left and right. We need backup!"
"Calm down, I'm here. And what about the comms?"
"I-I don't know...my head...ugh...get away from me!" There was the sound of ripper fire, then the hum of a lightsaber before the line went dead.
<'I can't wait to meet these 'Things'.> Arvid said nonchalantly, apparently unphased by the carnage he had just heard over comms.
<You'll get your chance soon. Mortar teams hit their backline and give them something to think about while we flank behind and smash them against the regulars on the ground. Delta and Echo to the right, and everyone else to left with me. I heard lightsabers...prioritize saber jockeys. Now get moving!>
There were a few cheers among the Berserkers as they rushed to close the distance, Meanwhile, the two pairs of mortar teams did their job, popping off a steady stream of micro ion grenades from their mortar guns into enemy troop concentrations. Not much was expected from the opening attack outside of disrupting the enemy advance on the beleaguered Rangers as the Berserkers got into opportune position for a counterattack.
As Sigrid hopped over buildings, she kept barrels of her rotary cannon spooling, ready to unleash hell upon any poor sap that found their way into her line of fire.
Location: Mirial, some roof Objective: Honorable duel.... TO THE DEATH!!! Allies: SJO Opposition: [member="Lark"]
Equipment (see signature)
Her elbow hit a solid mark against her opponent, getting an 'oof' from the young man but not much else. Glancing to the side she noted his smile, it was creepy, strange, similar to her brothers when he fought, but this man, had a sinister vibe to him. Out of the corner of her eye Sukai spotted the elbow coming for her face, she tried to run to the side but the blow hit it mark on her forehead, sending the young apprentice stumbling back slightly.
The strike stung, but as her mother had drilled into her, a wound was only worth attending to if it affected your combat, a minor 'conk' to the head was nothing, especially compared to the light saber wound she had received in the past. Regaining her composer Sukai commenced her own attack, swinging her blue blade in and upwards motion aimed at the mans right leg. Damaging the legs was her go to method to disabling an opponent and gaining victory, even if this man was fond of pain its effect would still be felt.... hopefully.
Location: Mirial, Capital City, Beyond The Barricade (is there a world you long to see?) Objective: To join in the fight that will give you the right to be free! Allies: [member="Darth Saarai"] [member="Vereshin"] TSE Enemies: [member="Roona Osmari"] [member="Valkren Calderon"] SJO
Tiba had leapt off of Tai Fa's shoulder. The fear in her overwhelming. Somehow she ended up in Vereshin's pocket, a small huddled ball of black fluff- at least she had not run out into the city and into danger, chased by fear that froze the blood and rippled the fur.
Hirou stayed.
But only just.
The world is a very scary place, for something like a Nezumi. Everything is built to accommodate giants that tower above. Legs like tree trunks that can crush and kick and kill if one is not careful and clever. Huge hands that grasp and squeeze. Weapons meant to wound not merely kill but obliterate, leaving not a trace but perhaps a smear of blood and a bit of fur behind. That was the place all Nezumi lived in, when they risked living off of their comfortable, safe nest ships. It was why so few of them did- the risks were too great, the rewards too few- and the fear of simply living could overwhelm them and leave them huddling together for comfort rather than finding a path forward.
In this at least, Hirou was accustomed to the every day fear of simply being small in a world meant to raise up those already twenty times their size.
That was Hirou's secret.... and Hirou's shame.
They were always afraid.
But great fear gave rise to great opportunity. The choice to be brave, to keep running, keeping tinkering, keep learning. To push oneself above and beyond, if nothing else than to spite that fear. The fear was useful- it kept the Nezumi alive. Without it, they would not be careful of feet and curious hands. Without it, they would die.
So Hirou took that fear and wrapped it up, holding it close and offering it appreciation.
Because, without it, there was no Hirou.
Though their tail was clutched in their paws, and the fur stood up all along their back, Hirou looked up at Lord Fa and nodded. Firm. Steadfast. Resolute.
"Yes," they squeaked, the tone and tenor perhaps ruining some of the effect. "I am here Lord Fa!"
"They fled and you stayed." Peacock head tilted slightly as he mulled that over. "Curious."
Hirou shook their head.
"They aren't used to knowing what it's like. To feel small and afraid. I am. So it was easier for me. It's not their fault they are big."
The beleaguered garrison came into view around the next corner, and the sight of the fighting around it did quail the Nezumi. Hirou swallowed hard, paws tightening around their tail for a moment.
"I am small," Hirou said quietly. "But I can be useful."
Location: Residence in the Capital Objective: Consume living flesh Allies: [member="Stephanie Swail"] Enemies: [member="Arthur Wayes"]
So hungry... a gnawing hunger which consumed her body and consciousness. She shook her head like a wet dog, but the urge to feast remained. All Europa wanted to do was tear into a nice, giant, chunk of organic flesh - was that too much to ask? Her nostrils flared as she could smell the sweet odor of it all around her.
At the soft female voice, she cocked her head to the side. She stood momentarily, weaving and swaying, her arms hanging at her sides. Even her platinum braids appeared limp, unhealthy and dirty. And then…
“Nnnnraaarrrrrrgggggggg!”
Europa ran towards the Jedi Padawan with the ferocity of a vornskr, but her advance was thwarted by the other sick Mirialan behind her. He pushed her so hard, she slammed into one of the walls of the residence, causing picture frames to fall to the floor - thump, thump, thump.
Europa screamed with rage as she slowly crawled across the carpet.
In the meantime, the male Mirialan staggered towards Stephanie, his arms out to grab her. She would see blaster bolts had ripped through his flesh, but yet he was alive- burned, bruised with rotting teeth and weeping sores, but alive. He’d nearly gotten to her, but suddenly the familiar Silver officer was tugging at his leg, using him as support on which to climb and get herself back up on her feet.
It was not an act of mercy towards the Padawan; she was just trying to get to Stephanie before he did.
Location: The Capital City Objective: Help liberate Mirial....and save Europa….but don’t die. Allies: [member="Europa Draav"] | SJO in area Enemies: [member="Dante Sotari"] |[member="Morgan Vance"] | The Sith Empire Gear: {In Sig) Shield | {In Sig) Dagger | Lightsaber | A180 Blaster
Stephanie’s body tense as the broken and ill-looking figure of Europa almost leapt towards her, but she was taken out a fraction too early to make contact. Two Mirilian innocents, corrupted by the poison of the Sith, locked in a beastly fight.
As they impacted and make un-earthly noises, a wave of ice washed over Stephanie, bringing her to one bended knee, shield clunking down and hand, with lightsaber hilt in, pushing against her head to stop a sudden feeling of loathing and intense heat.
A growl came from within her, fighting off what felt like some unnatural spell or Force distraction. Whatever it was, it brought tears to her eyes. A loud snarl brought her head up to see Europa clawing up the decaying , burnt out Mirilian to get to Stephanie.
Her dark eyes burned with a mixture of hate and resilience – the Dark Side clashing against the Light in her heart from the Sith attack – and she wobbled as she stood, raising her shield arm.
”Commander, you take out that cannon and you reduce it to rubble! Reduce them ALL to rubble! Destroy the Sith! No mercy!” Stephanie shouted, trembling as she battled the Dark Side washing over her.
”It’s..hell up here….say again…?”
She didn’t hear her Ranger reply for she was on Europa’s Mirilian with her shield. She barged into them with a cry of strength, so much so she shook chunks of rotten flesh and brittle bone from the Mirilian between Europa and Steph, crushing them back against the residential wall.
”Stephanie? Are you alright….?”
Europa and Stephanie locked eyes with the lolling head of the Mirilian un-dead between them.
”You fight this Europa. You FIGHT this or I will cut you down and kill you where….!”
She winced, but ignited her lightsaber once more sharply, still pushing against the force of her pushing back.
”You are not lost! We are not….lost….!”
Stephanie looked back to Europa and her strength waned a little. Instead, she shed a tear she couldn’t control; one of pity, of pain and of fear. She pushed out with the Light inside her as much as she could to calm the wave of darkness.
”Listen to me! Fight this! Or we will both die here! Do you hear me! I will….kill….NO! I will SAVE you! Fight this!”
Her knee bent, foot slightly skidding back on the gore beneath her, but she didn’t break eye contact or as halt the soothing Light aura she drained from herself to fuel Europa, the Mirilian decaying between them still in a stand-off she was starting to lose.
Natassia felt surrounded by darkness, an infinity of writhing maggots nibbling at her; she let out a pained gasp as her helmet was violently torn off, [member="Vaylin"] 's words spreading a sense of cold in her mind and body, an insidious, venomous poison slithering beneath her fragile shell. For a moment, she was tempted to give in, to abandon everything and rest with the knowledge that she'd get a clean slate once more. But it was then that she was hit by Jardain 's battle meditation, and her eyes shot back open. Slowly, painfully, she raised from her knees onto unsteady legs, catching herself on a nearby scaffolding as she threatened to fall down again. Exhausted, beaten up and drained of energy, she still found the strength to clench her teeth, her pain fueling her rage and anger as she stared into the Sith's eyes.
"I bend knee to none, Sith!", she spoke in an unsteady, and yet terrifyingly clear tone. "You don't understand anything about me. For all my life, I've been a weapon pointed in the wrong direction. Never again!"
She slammed her fist against the nearby metal, bending it heavily under the pressure. Resisting that desire to go on one last suicidal charge against the Sith was hard, but Natassia had reasons to. She wanted to win that argument... and, to her shame, she found herself desiring to hear the Zabrak's reply.
"This isn't a question of who's worst than the others. Both parties are pretty fething terrible - but it just so happens that the Jedi are the lesser evil, which I'll take any day over your sense of "peace". You think I don't know what this is like? I've fought in the Empire, and I know fraking well about that complex of "bringing peace to the populations". I don't fight for the Jedi. I fight for whoever does what's best."
Taken into the heat of her argument, she barely managed to stop herself before she let out the haunting truth. At times, her altruistic intentions seemed all but futile, and she looked at different things; she would fight for whoever would do what was best... for herself.
It was mind-crushing, how mere words made her question herself. She lived her life as a never-ending battle, fighting everything thrown in her way and blowing up those too tough for her to take down, only for her to throw away all of her possessions into futile exploration runs and, most importantly, relief! Relief for her mind in different forms, some more perverted than others...
Keeping her jaw shut tight, teeth clenched tightly, she stared into Vaylin's eyes, waiting for her response with an eagerness she shamefully hid away in the back of her mind.
Just that wry smile as Morgan watched her work - it felt weird, how detached he was from what was happening. Part of him knew that the fact that he didn't feel any pain when she sealed him up should have concerned him. But no energy - the whoomp of the orbital canon letting loose another volley into space to suppress the Silver Jedi presence barely registered and neither did the sudden whirrrr as the turrets outside started firing away, once their scanners picked up the incoming life-signs of the Silver troopers.
Morgan held her by her shoulder, suddenly firm and strong, a grip like iron and it kept her there with him. "Feth Mor, we need to g-" Then came a loud roar followed by violent shaking as several thermaldetonators erupted, once the troopers got into proximity. There was a grin there now, bloody, no kindness or mirth, just satisfied.
"Now we can go."
His hold over her shoulder was released and he shifted slightly, letting her get a hold of him. "Here goes nothing..." Dante dragged him up and that was when the pain began. Hot, searing pain like a red-hot knife slashing, twisting and cutting... Morgan let out one whine, one pain-laced scream. He saw white, then as the bulkdoor behind them started crumbling... he saw black.
Endless night covering his eyes.
There was nothing more that Morgan could do for Dante.
Location: Mirial | The Capital. Objective: Clean up this mess. Allies: The Sith Empire & Mirial. - [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] Enemies: The Silver Jedi. - [member="Roona Osmari"] | [member="Valkren Calderon"]
If there was one thing that Lord Fa could understand it was being looked down upon simply because of species.
Not too dissimilar to being looked down upon... because they were smaller than was the average. "Small, big, average... I suppose all that matters is what's inside your mind." The mess in front of the garrison made him stop for a while, wing rose up and at once the soldiers fanned out to make themselves as little a target as possible. The entrance of the building was ruined, duracrete shredded by blaster fire, the steps littered with corpses from the dead Sith troopers that had been guarding it.
Beak rose up, eyes squinted, but the sounds of protracted blaster fire inside told him that this wasn't over yet.
Good.
"Hirou. I want you to go in, quiet and silent and shadow, an inside eye that tells us what we can expect would be good."
"Can!" Away Hirou went running, gliding off offered wing and disappearing into the ruins of the garrison. The Thirriken watched him go, before following shortly after. Whereas the Nezumi was smol and easily forgotten, there was nothing subtle about a walking Thirriken strutting into the garrison's front entrance.
The first corridor contained more of the dead.
Silvers and Sith this time.
Deeper in the compound the hailfire of plasma could be heard, "My Lord, orders?" One of the Mirialans asked, blaster rifle at ready and awaiting the command. Any command. "Follow, but be cautious. I will draw their fire and you will take them out." Then the Thirriken dropped into a run, talons scratched against the tiles and already the long-blade at ready.
The Force was strong within him and he called for it. His movement blurred as speed picked up, as feathers turned sharp and rigid, as body became enhanced and Lord Saarai shifted from fragile peacock to... something more. The Silvers were focused on the front, trying to push further and further to fulfill their mission.
If not for the helmets... the surprise on their facial expressions would have been amusing to Tai. He focused as their rear came up, blade shining and the screech of the Thirriken roared through the corridor.
"Contact!" One of the Rangers screamed as the Sith Lord collided with them and chaos received its due.
It was a strange place for the Zabrak to find herself; talking to an enemy rather than attempting to maim and kill them. Time had woven on since Aria had plucked her from her isolation on Dxun and helped forged her into something beyond what she had been for years.
From Beast to Sith.
A weapon sharpened and pointed against the enemies of the Empire, but also taught to see beyond the short term, and towards longer game - to manipulate rather than destroy.
She raised an eyebrow at Natassia's comments, not bothering to give the woman an answer, at least initially. Vaylin simply watched as she struggled to her feet, gripping the railing until she was able to turn around and face her.
Light blue glaring at a twisting amber.
The Zabrak recognized a fire that burned within the soldier, one that burned personally and not for some greater scheme or larger organization. Even more so, Vaylin could out right feel the conflict within Natassia, the internal back and forth with internal questions. But the Zabrak was not one to answer lightly, verbally or physically.
As evident by her choice to call the Force to her hand, and blasted it against Natassia's legs, knocking them from beneath her and forcing her armoured knees to hit the ground.
"I don't care if you kneel, but you should learn some respect." Vaylin hissed the words as she walked up to Natassia, hand reaching down, fingers wrapping around the woman's chin and forcing her to look up at her. "You aren't anything complex, dear. You're just another soul bouncing from one battle to another, perhaps wondering if it will be your last - or if you'll ever find something that will keep you in one place."
"You're like a leaf on a river, constantly floating and moving. Then rain falls and you start to drown beneath the weight, only to then bounce back to the surface to repeat the same thing, over and over."
Vaylin let go of Natassia's chin, stepping around her and gazing out at the chaos below once more.
"Tell me soldier, have you ever been within Sith Space for any length of time? Walked the streets of Bastion? You'll find there is true peace here, unlike the Jedi's tendency to inaction or, in this instance - misaction. You might not fight for the Silvers, but you do fight with them. The only thing I will grant you, is the fact you don't do so blindly."
Natassia let out an exclamation of surprise as the Force blast hit her in the legs, sending her falling to her knees. She winced at the pain of the impact, unable to focus before [member="Vaylin"] wrapped her fingers around her chin and forcfed her to look upward into her venomously mesmerizing eyes.
Once more, the words hit her like an arrow through her heart, sending a chill down her spine and spreading darkness in her mind. What hurt most wasn't how cold and blunt the Sith was, but rather, how she described who she was in but a few sentences, pulling at the soldier's heart, reminding her painfully of the fate she had resigned herself to. Truth did hurt, a lot.
Because in the end, she was right. She lived on borrowed time, and each battle was yet another roll of the dice - would she live, or would death finally find her and take her into the afterlife? Would she save those next to her, or would they die just the same?
And, most importantly, would she ever find some place she belonged to? The Jedi gave her solace, but they were different from her. Those among them who were as scarred as she was had done different deeds than her's. In the end, some could call her a monster, but she was little more than a soldier, and good soldiers follow orders, as a clone once told her.
Still, she couldn't help but think about the Zabrak's final question, and what followed after. The last time she'd been to Sith space, she felt nothing but anxiety throughout the whole journey, expecting to have the force-wielding maniacs jump their ship at any moment. In fact, she didn't remember sleeping before the ship's captain told her she looked like hell, which was nothing more than the truth.
"I've never been to any of your planets for any time longer than getting credits and weapons", she spoke honestly as she stared down at the ground, much too bruised and beaten to try and stand up again. "But if you think you can convince me by beating me up while I don't have anything to defend myself with, then you've got a very different definition of conversation from the Jedi." Not that theirs is much better.
That last sentence of her's was a lie, though. She still had the darts in the finger of her mechanical arms, and with one arm still able, she could try to take the Sith by surprise and shoot a sleeping dart into her neck. But then again, if she did that, it would leave her to the mercy of the other one, who seemed to be far less merciful. If beating her up and trying to break her mind could be considered as mercy.
MIRIAL – Pantera Class Stealth Frigate. Sneaking about.
It was funny how much a ship could change from one floor to another. The bright lights darkened, wide paths narrowed to single file. To delve into the belly of a ship was not unlike delving into the deepest reaches of a mind: The further you went, the higher the contrasts, and the more prevalent becomes the dark side of things.
Uncertain of her whereabouts, Ophidia searched her feelings and made a sharp turn left. Half a dozen steps down the way, one of the ship’s maintenance droids clattered by, and Ophidia squeezed herself out of the way and climbed up on one of the wall bracers, careful not to touch the large, insect-like machine as it scrambled past. She waited for a moment, then let herself down again.
Another half a dozen steps, she found an opportunity to better gain her bearings: A data-port. With the identification she had stolen – what was the name again, Ensign Karstad? Yes – she could perhaps access a map. She inserted the fob and uncrumpled one of the notes found in Karstad’s pockets: KARgo831 – Don’t keep your passcode on your person.
Login: User ID: Anella Karstad Passcode: *******1
Success! Giving herself a little smile, Darth Ophidia sifted through the information until she could find a map of her current whereabouts. She heard another droid coming clanking by in the distance, closer and closer by the minute. She did not dare copying the files to a device of her own, as it could be traced. Instead, she reached up to the side of her helmet and took an image of what she was watching. The quality was lesser and she would not be able to see herself, but nor could she be traced. Quickly, she retracted the fob, ending her session, and started down the corridor, away from the droid.
As she turned a corner, hoping to put a wall between herself and the d1roid, she almost walked straight on to another. It was working on a panel, picking at the electronics and chirping to itself in binary the way droids do.
Quietly, Ophidia inched her way around it. One more corner, two more. She heard another set of clanking feet, but waited for it to pass before going down and in: Sliding down into another level. Her eyes met its goal: The Hyperdrive.
Location: Capitol Suburb
Purpose: Prevent Sith Reinforcements from Arriving
Secondary: Help civilians
Allies: The Silver Jedi
Enemies: The Sith Empire
The once firm grip Jake held on the lightsaber loosened. His fingers grew numb and weak. Slowly the digits uncurled allowed the blade to turn off. The crimson blade disappeared while the metal hilt slipped free from his grip and fell to the ground below. His body trembled. His eyes grew heavy. Shock. Fear. It gripped him as the Knight glanced down to see the metal knife plunged into his abdomen. Jake lifted his hands up towards the hilt of the knife, though he did not pull it free. He knew better. It hurt; hurt like hell.
Slowly Jake looked up to see the light-infantry rushing throughout the small town. Blaster fire erupted as the unknown beings that had been attacking the civilians dropped like rag dolls. Yet it was not those undead beings that had driven a weapon into the Knight; it had been the deceased before Jake. A Sith Warrior whom had attempted an ambush. The fight was quick but Jake had been just a bit too slow. His blade managed to disarm the Siths lightsaber. His blade managed to punch through the body of his adversary. Yet the Sith managed to get one last shot in.
He had kept his promise. The dark passenger had remained subdued. He engaged a Sith without utilizing the dark side. If anything, that was a win for the Knight. If he fell, if he became one with the force, at least Jake would face the afterlife knowing he died within the light. He only had one woman to thank for that.
His leg's couldn't hold his frame up any longer. Finally Daniels fell to his knees. One hand remained over the knife while the other fell feebly to his side. The dark passenger within eerily still. Jake glanced down at his hand, now covered in dark blood and let out a soft groan. His vision blurred. Finally a light-infantryman noticed Jakes plight.
"Sir!" Jake fell backwards just as two soldiers rushed to his aid. One took a look at the wound while the other took a defensive position over the Knight.
"Soldier." Jake said with a tired voice, "Status report."
"Clean up is in process. Only a few unknowns remain, otherwise this local is secure. Troops have begun setting up a perimeter. We now have clear access to the LZ to get civilians off world." The soldier replied. He took a look at the second who made a circular motion with a finger. "We need to evac you Sir."
Jake let out a small cough, "Here." Daniels hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out the note for [member="Valae Kitra"]. "If anything happens you make sure she gets this."
The soldier took the now bloody note and slipped it inside a breast pocket. Grabbing a radio off his hip, the order went out, "This is Unit 18. We are in need of emergency evac. We have injured civilians and a critically injured Jedi."
'Standby Unit 18. Locking onto your trackers. Transport will be inbound in five minutes.'
Location: Suburbs, Capital City Objective: Capture the Jedi alive Allies: TSE Enemies: The Silver Jedi, [member="Marek S'hadar"] Equipment: Armor, Ligthsaber
Once more the two engaged into a deadlock. Slash after slash, neither gave ground to the other. Vitor's speed seemed to give him an advantage against the well armored Jedi but his vigorous attacks also gave the light sided warrior openings.
The Force told him of the danger but he was not quick enough to repel it.
The terrible blast of telekinetic energy sent him flying backwards into the leftovers of the destroyed balcony. Only his earlier alert was able to save him engulfing him in telekinetic barrier. He was never good at those but it saved him from breaking every single bone on his back by crashing into a pile of duracrete.
It still hurt and Vitor's rise was slower. He usually was not one for useless chatter but the need to recuperate prevailed. It also gave him the chance to restore his psyche from the tendrils of metaphysical darkness that radiated from Ananta.
"Same goes to you, Jedi." The Sith Lord uttered brushing a hand across the dripping blood from his head. Why did the Jedi always think what they were doing was right?
His head felt as if it weighted twice as much as it usually did.
Vitor gathered his breath and if the Jedi was not on the offensive this time, he would exert more power to his Force speed darting in a blur of speed towards the Jedi Master and engaging him in close quarter combat.
If he could get into a deadlock again, the Sith Lord would attempt to bring his cortosis vambraces to meet the Jedi's blade in the middle of their slashing. Would that even come closely to success, he'd attempt to slice the man's arm off should his saber ever be deactivated by his cortosis vambraces.
Location: Staging Area, Corva Sector > Mirial System Objective: Neutralize Sith Armada, cleanse Capital of Sith magics, meet a certain Dark Lord on the ground. Allies: SJO, Mirialan Separatists/Rebels, Dominion Remnant ([member="Setzi Lunelle"]) Opposition: TSE, Mirialan Death Cultists Directly Engaging: [member="Darth Carnifex"] (Up for a duel on the ground if you're not occupied.)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RixBD-3YGoQ
"..so you're saying you have no idea where the rancor came from?" Arisa asked the Commander Pyke over holo-call, trying to make sense of how a one and a half ton warbeast had been snuck onto his ship without notice.
The Zabrak could only offer a shrug in genuine confusion. "No ma'am, we're just as surprised as you on our end. I have crews scouring the hangars for additional unsanctioned materiale."
"Please do," she said with a nod.
Aside from the hiccup that had come in the form of an insubordinate and treacherous Ranger, thus far the advance group had performed admirably in the face of greater than expected resistance from the Sith congregation and their Mirialan quislings. Now it was just up to her to complete the last phase of the operation and secure a foothold across the entire globe, while also neutralizing the mutant/zombie threat once and for all.
She was just about to end the call with Pyke when she could hear some yelling on his end about new contacts. He looked away from the camera, then back at her frowning.
"Problems?"
"A large mass of hyperspatial anomalies were detected at the edge of the system. On tachyon sensors, we're picking up an enemy armada."
"Armada?" Through her neural link, Arisa directly pinged Nightin Gale for updates, then made a small O face as she confirmed there was indeed a massive fleet crawling toward Mirial. Assuming this was all from the Sith, then it would be about the single largest fleet she had ever seen committed to a single theater, enough vessels to lock down whole sectors with ease.
"Ma'am, a message from one of the Jedi strike teams in the capital," one of her comms officers reported.
"Ah...put it up."
In a pleasant surprise, she found the communication to be Setzi, her newest apprentice. The woman had come a long way from troubled beginnings, shaping up to be a fine Jedi.
Setzi Lunelle said:
“Master [SIZE=9pt]Yune, there’s been a powerful sorcery attack on the capital, a manifestation of the darkside[/SIZE] of the Force that’s flowing over the building and streets engulfing everything in its path. If it affects the rebels and those we’re trying to evacuate, we may have problems getting them mobilized or even… upright. It knocked me right to the ground, and I was able to hold on with my own defensive maneuver. But I’m concerned and looking for guidance.”
Though her words were steady, inside she felt purposeless and insecure. Nothing I’m saying makes sense right now and Master Yune will think I’m a [SIZE=9pt]fool,[/SIZE] if I could only just… just…
And Setzi caught herself. The waves of darkness were calling to her, allowing her to be coaxed into such a morose and distressed mood. She squinted her eyes until they watered and shook her head.
“Perhaps a more coordinated response from the Jedi can be achieved?"
"The Sith finally show their true colors attacking civilians as they grow desperate." she mused aloud as she prepared to make a transmission. "Setzi? This is Arisa. Thank you for the sitrep, we were just about to microjump into the system. I'll have more Jedi with me, but until we enter Mirial airspace, I'll need all available Jedi on the ground to disrupt the source of this disturbance. Sit tight, I'll be there in a few minutes."
She switched channels to General Howle, the commanding officer of the main fleet in her stead. "I know I'm about to ask a tall order here, but I need you to keep that armada pinned down until reinforcements arrive."
"More than doable. By the time I'm done with them, there won't be anything but scraps for Admiral King."
"Good luck. Kappa (shield carrier), stay back with the carrier groups for now, it's too dangerous to deploy over the capital while the Sith work their sorcery. Delta group reposition for anti-ship operations. Now everyone, move out!"
One by one, the ships began to blink out of view as they slipped into hyperspace. Two large formations, once on an intercept course for the Sith armada, and the other destined for the surface of Mirial. Along the way, Arisa relocated to the hangar, clad in armor. Her place in this fight would be on the ground, where she would undoubtedly find the ringleaders of the massacre in progress within the capital. The liberation of Mirial would begin by taking them all down in one final push.
A few minutes by precision microjump, and then the pair of Destroyer groups were now on top of the Sith Armada, quite literally as they reverted almost perpendicular in relation to the Sith vessels' plane of travel at long range. This was done purposely to minimize exposure to enemy fire - few guns could achieve the firing arcs necessary to respond to such a high angle of attack.
The Destroyers and their escorts reverted with their ECMs systems already active to begin jamming and spoofing enemy vessels right out the gate, hitting them both heavy interference and false readings to trick their sensors. ECM drones were deployed en masse to exacerbate the effect and artificially balloon the size of the relatively small battlegroup with false signatures of corvettes and frigates.
In their opening attack, the Akula and Okami targeted the dorsal shield generators and primary sensor/comm clusters of the three largest ships of the Sith Armada (Imperators, Plague) with solar ionization cannons. Capable of bypassing shields, the cannons could burn right through the relatively delicate shield generators and sensor/comm nodes with little trouble and leave the ships crippled for more severe punishment. The supercarrier at the heart of the formation was also hammered with continuous salvos of high caliber vibro-flechettes fired from heavy HVC batteries.
Empion mines were released behind the Destroyer groups, setting a trap for any additional reinforcements that may get the bright idea to flank them with a precision jump like they had with the Sith. More importantly, it would keep the nearby Armada from jumping away deeper into the system. Currently chugging away by sublight engines, it would take the Sith vessels years to reach Mirial by that method. It was fortunate for coalition forces that the Sith had decided to forgo simply jumping straight over Mirial, giving Arisa's assault group a head start to finish wiping out the remaining Sith units on the ground.
For now, the Destroyer groups held maintained their distance, plinking away at the battlecruisers and super-carrier defenses while pitching forward to settle behind Armada for the next phase of the attack. They would put their small size and superior speed to use by simply outmaneuvering opponents to isolate individual formations one by one for destruction. Numbers counted for naught, as the Sith would soon find out.
Allies: TSE
Enemies: SJO, [member="Yuroic Xeraic"], [member="Sigrid Forsberg"]
Gear: Simulacrum Body + armour (in sig), bolter, sonic blaster, Forcebreakers, 2x glowsticks.
Treating NPC stuff as background noise.
By the time reinforcements arrived, the beleaguered Rangers were probably not doing that well, for they would have been caught inside a cauldron. In addition to Enyo's Eisenkrieger cyborgs and droids, they also faced regular Sith grunts. The latter were in a different chain of command than the cyborg's, but they did their job all the same.
Some soldiers had fled the battlefield due to being spooked by the Waves of Darkness - and in a number of cases had been summarily executed by droids that served as blocking squads. Totalitarianism at its finest.
But those with true faith and conviction remained and fought. The strong prevailed, the weak were ground beneath their boot. Darwinian selection weeded out the unworthy. It was a cruel, vulgar and barbaric code. It was also honest. Unlike the false peace promised by the Jedi, who, all too often, in their pursuit of what they considered to be the greater good, caused great harm through incompetence, arrogance and negligence.
Enyo was not caught entirely off-guard when the Berserkers made their approach. She was alerted by one of the Wasp recon droids that had been deployed in the city outskirts a long time ago. The transmission occured just as she cut down a Ranger, cleaving him from shoulder to belly with her burning blade. Purely electronic communication redirected her forces. The bulk of the cyborgs would face the intruders. The Sith soldiers would be alerted as well and act accordingly.
Then suddenly mortars howled, belching ion rounds. The cyborg sought cover as artillery roared. A score of her mechanical servitors were caught in the initial bombardment. Some would be put out of commission, others would survive. Their cybernetics were hardened to resist ion attacks to a degree.
Her will manifested a telekinetic wind as she traced the trajectory of ion grenades coming for her. The strong wind blasted them away, redirecting the attack. "Instruct the Sith to launch a bombing run on those mortars," she transmitted to Neda. She got an affirmative in response. She did not waste time with banter or ask how the Zabrak was doing. She was functional and that alone mattered.
When the Valkyri moved to engage, they would be greeted with a hailstorm of heavy weapons fire. Their intervention would probably allow several Rangers to escape and evac their wounded. Indeed, it was probably what Jedi Xeraic needed to survive.
It would not, however, change the outcome of the larger battle for the planet. At least from Enyo's perspective. With the zombie threat driven away from the city via preternatural rituals, the Sith could throw all their troops against the Silver incursion. The offensive was too little, too late, and too piecemeal. Especially with the Sith fleet appearing in space.
As Enyo searched for targets, she found her quarry when her eyes fell upon a heavily armoured Valkyri warrior hopping over buildings. Presumably the cyborg would not know that the opponent in question was a native of Midvinter. Anyhow, Sigrid was in her sights.
Ironically, Enyo had visited the ice planet way back. During her visit, she'd run into the Valkyri warrior [member="Ylva Wolfsbane"]. They'd had a great time causing violence together. These days, the bloodthirsty berserker was one of her lieutenants.
Regardless, she raised her Mark One Bolter and opened fire, unleashing precise salvoes of explosive bolts towards the Viking warrior woman. Armed at launch, the warheads exploded on impact, had a long range and blast radius. Machine precision, photoreceptors, motion trackers and sensors helped her follow the movements of her prospective quarry and supported her aim.
Location: Miria High as a Kite
Objective: Preparing to Kill Sith
Allies: SJ
Enemies: Sith [member="The Slave"]
A slight smile drew across his lips as he heard the squad confirm that they were secure in the buildings, having been left alone by the Sith who was currently after them. They were still in extreme danger, but if they managed to get that far it meant the Sith was in fact going after his target. Himself. He would not describe it as a trap, so much as setting the playing field itself. Dusaro had no fancy traps in mind, no idea to outsmart this Sith. But he did plan on coming out on top. The fact that even in this state he was still thinking about victory and spared no thoughts for defeat either spoke to his resolve, ego or perhaps both.
To Dusaro, there was no Karma in this battle. It was only a battle. A very dangerous battle with all the odds stacked against him for sure, but even with that said it was simply a battle. There was only himself and the enemy, masked and hidden as the enemy might be. It was the simplest form of conflict.
As he walked through the smoky haze, Dusaro focused on the force and his mind. He was enraged, but it was not controlling him. His steps were even, his pace consistent and smooth while his right arm which was clad in a elbow length leather glove lightly held his lightsaber. Feeling emotion had never been something Dusaro had been trained against. Giving into it was and the Padawan had not yet gone over that particular edge. Taking a slow breath, he tried to focus on memories. He knew that was a way of dealing with mental attacks, forcing them out with strong memories. It was a brute force method, but he was not exactly in a situation where he had the ability to use finesse. While he was working on this, he tossed his jetpack off and to the side, he wouldn't be able to use it with his vision like this. By the time he managed to eek out even the most basic of force sense, it was only in time to get a single feeling. Shift left. So he shifted left, in time to dodge one pellet from the shattergun, while a second nastily grazed his thigh and the third placed itself into the side of his hamstrings just missing the bone, the fast and viciously damaging pellet exiting out the other side.
The pain drew a short howl of pain as his left hand rested on the knee of the shot leg and fell from his own weight, nearly bringing himself down to a knee. His connection that he had worked on building instantly vanished as it was replaced by extreme pain and agony. But in the back of his mind past the pain, this was not a loss to the him. Rather his main thought was 'found you'. Forcing himself up on his good leg, he pivoted on it to face behind himself and quickly drew his own shattergun, firing back down the direction the shot had come from while forcing his leg to work as he slowly hobbled back in the direction the shot had come from. They were blind shots, with even the first and most 'accurate' shot having almost no chance to hit. But right now, he didn't have any other ideas of where the enemy was so he went with what he had, crap as it was. Now that he had direction how ever, he was not without a plan. He only had to wait and see what the Sith would do next, that part was still ever the same.
Location: Mirial, Capital City
Allies: SJO - [member="Kaiza Pawaro"]
Opposition: [member="Jartris Entumaa"]
Liuna was too wrapped in fear to even see Kaiza’s armored form go flying into a wall. Above them, the strange storm continued to rage. The world around her began to melt away as she retreated into her mind. Her eyes slowly rolled up and saw only darkness.
Suddenly, she was at her family home in Ciba. The roof and walls of the dwelling were old and rotten with age. Her heart pounded. Somehow, she knew this was not real, but it did look very real. Liuna felt frightened, like a small child again. Tears were streamed down her face. There were bodies wrapped in linen in the front yard – three. Without looking, she knew the corpses would be her mother and brothers.
Though she did not want to move, her feet were compelled to move. Her hands reached out automatically and began to peel back the linen. “<No, please…>” she begged uselessly, unable to stop. Fingers slid across the rough fabric, feeling the facial features of her mother beneath it. Liuna shook her head furiously, but her hands began to pull back the linen. “<I don’t want to see.>” The words escaped in a soundless whisper.
Her mother’s hollow eyes stared up at Liuna, her face twisted in horror. She could feel that her mother’s last moments had been full of pain and despair – just like her own would be. Liuna had not been able to save any of them. There was no hope left. Before her eyes, the corpse began to move. Screaming now, she tried to move… but she was rooted to the spot. Cold hands were wrapping around her neck…
Liuna gasped for breath.
Opening her eyes, she could suddenly see the streets of the capital again. There was light. The Mirialan woman felt that she was now pulled into an embrace, and shifted her head slightly to see Kaiza. And the darkness seemed to wane; little did she know that the storm was being battled by the Jedi. But Liuna felt warmer now. Maybe she would make it out of this alive, and maybe her people would be freed from this darkness as well. She felt… hope.
