Junction Spilled Bacta | SO & HR & SC Junction of Janara III, Teyr, Empty Hex

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Verity Stuyveris | Dominique Vexx

"Get your fething hands off me," Aurelian snapped, shoving past a heavily armed CNTRLd trooper as the security detail ushered him onto the deck of the medical bay.

Minor scrapes, singed fabric, and a dark smear of dried blood beneath his nose were the only physical reminders of the scuffle on the bridge. Yet, despite the lack of severe injury, the Chancellors guards had practically detained him, escorting him straight into the medical ward under the polished lie of prioritizing his well-being. They wanted blood panels. They wanted neural telemetry on the artifact's lingering resonance.

Most of all, they wanted the King of Naboo quarantined before he could interfere further.

Pacing the narrow space like a caged predator, his patience wore razor-thin. Sibylla was still down on the burning surface of Thyferra, surrounded by Sith beasts and rising body counts, while he was trapped in orbit playing patient.

Roughly deposited onto a cot, he barely waited for the escort to step back before swinging his legs over the frame. A thin privacy curtain was the only barrier separating him from the adjacent bed. Reaching out, he yanked the fabric back with an aggressive, metal-ringed snap.

"Stuyveris!" he barked, completely ignoring the fact that she was currently holding a live comlink to her ear. "Do me a favor and use that line to get the Chancellor down here. I will not be contained like a laboratory rat while my people are on the ground."

​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound | Kitt Solo​

Eyelids fluttered open, they were heavy and swollen, straining against the raw, battered flesh surrounding them. Lorn was still breathing, a grim realization that felt like a statistical impossibility given the beating he had endured. Fresh agony flared along the side of his face with every subtle movement, the newly carved mark throbbing with a dark heat that punished him the moment he sought any lingering comfort in the Force. Destiny seemed content to leave him suspended in unending punishment.

Looking around through a blurred haze, he saw Acier's shoulder wedged beneath his arm, bearing his dead weight through the ash. Surrounding them were hollow, dejected faces, fields choked with black smoke, and a trail of silent corpses. They had lost everything here.

This was a total retreat.

"Is she dead?" Lorn grunted out the question through cracked lips, unable to support a single pound of his own body on his useless legs.

He needed an answer. The grueling trek, the fallen planet, the poison now festering in his flesh, and the crushing guilt of dragging Acier through hell all rested on that single outcome. If Srina had breathed her last in that refinery, then perhaps the trade had been worth the devastation. If the Sith Empress was gone, there was a glimmer of purpose buried beneath the ash.

Lorn stared up into the gray sky, awaiting the verdict from the young wolf who was carrying him out of the fire.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Objective: The Long March
Tags: Katarine Ryiah​

"Aiden..."

That voice. Aiden turned to see. Gods, how was that possible? He hadn't seen Kat in so long, what felt like years. The Jedi Knight held his hand up, signaling the Everlight to halt for the moment.

"Gather yourselves for a moment. Prepare whatever you need. We leave in a few minutes."

Aiden then turned, walking toward Kat. He raised his hand, a smile on his face. "Well, given the circumstances, this is a pleasant surprise." The Jedi Knight would've given her a hug, but given his state, it probably wasn't the best idea.

"How did you get here?" Aiden shook his head just as he asked the question. "I'm sorry, we can talk afterward. Right now, there are Jedi that need my help, our help." His expression grew more serious as he looked at her. "Are you with me?"

 

[Trextan Voidstalker]

TREXTAN

Choli Vyn

Trextan caught the earphones one-handed and jammed them on just as Choli slammed the switch.

The sonic hit Trextan like a physical blow even through the protection. He could feel it to his bones. Below them the troopers folded. Their weapons dropped and they clawing at their helmets. Trextan braced against the co-pilot console as the Sunfire lurched off the yard and clawed for height through the smoke.

"Pirates," she explained quickly, wrenching back on the controls as the Sunfire climbed hard through the smoke. "Long story."

"What?" went Trextan as he tore off his earphones.

A second volley sparked off the ventral plating. He took control of the autocanon and returned fire in short, controlled bursts. He barely aimed and just provided enough fire to keep heads down while she climbed.

He glanced at her. Sweat cut clean lines through the soot on her temples. Her hands were sure on the yoke. That crooked grin when she spotted Rogue Squadron on the display caused him to grin back despite the situation.

He brought a hand up to his face. His fingertips came away bloodied. He'd scratched his cheek on the way down. He realised he had a cut across his forearm too.

Being in Chloe's supervision had taken him out of the habit of carrying serious weapons. He was going to go back to wearing the armor weave vest from his old vanguard suit and the occluder hand cannon at his hip.

"I didn't want this again," he admitted, eyes still on the scopes. "Having to ride right through a warzone."

His hand tightened on the arm of his chair. He kept his eyes on the comm looking for anything over the open emergency channels.

 

[Choli Vyn]

Interacting with: Trextan Voidstalker
Armor- x x x x x | Gear x x x x x x x | Weapons x x x x x

Choli did not answer immediately, thinking about how he said he hadn't wanted to ride through a warzone.

Her slanted eyes slid toward him for a fleeting second, catching in the details she'd missed before. Fresh blood trickled down his temple through the grime covering his face, disappearing beneath dark curls tousled across his forehead and ears. He really needed a haircut again.

"Yeah, I know." Choli murmured, giving a slight grunt as another shudder swept the Sunfire. No, she also didn't want to do this again either. Their adolescence had been carved across one battlefield after another beneath the old Alliance. Somehow, they had survived it. Somehow, they had found something resembling a life afterward.

Then comm crackled.

[ Mayday, mayday! Any vessel receiving, we have wounded aboard- ]

Choli went still. The transmission dissolved beneath static before repeating, weaker this time. Her eyes dropped toward the scopes. A distress marker blinked several kilometers off their escape vector.

They could keep going. They should keep going.

Instead, those color-shifting eyes slowly shifted toward Trextan.

"Chit." Her fingers tightened around the controls.

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

LOCATION

HRNS GRACE OF THEED

MEDBAY

AFTER

♫ GUNPOWDER — MARTIN PHIPPS

x

x

A perfectly-coiffed blonde head swiveled at the sound of the curtain being snatched back and pulled open. By then, the medics had slipped the blouse from her injured shoulder, and Verity was momentarily aware that the only thing protecting her modesty then was a medic standing on her left side, beyond which Aurelian was barking, and a confection of lingerie from a high-end Druckenwell boutique. Still, she spared herself the blushes. Verity's flesh -- however pristine -- could offer Veruna nothing in the way of fame or power, so she suspected he couldn't be less interested.

"Luc?" she said into the comlink.

"That's him, isn't it?"

"Correct. Call you back." She disconnected and offered Aurelian a withering gaze while the medics leaned over her, doing their work. Luckily, they were working on her torso, so she could still let him see the full measure of contempt in her eyes. "If I had my way, the Chancellor would be halfway back to Naboo by now, and the artifact with her." She studied Aurelian; he looked awful, but... perhaps only a little more awful than normal.

The medics fiddled with her, applied some sort of medicated compress to her shoulder and another to her side, then withdrew with instructions to rest. Verity watched them disappear behind the curtain, then immediately sat up and slowly, haltingly worked her arm into the sleeve, then stood and tucked her comlink into her trousers pocket. She approached the partition and reached past Aurelian to draw the curtain closed again. As much as she was looking forward to dragging Aurelian Veruna across the shattered glass of public opinion for what he'd done, she didn't think broadcasting it in the middle of a military vessel was the right choice.

She, at least, had some sense, some decorum, some grasp of operational security.

Verity began to do up the buttons on her blouse. When she spoke, her voice was low enough that they wouldn't be overheard. She had to stand close so her voice didn't carry. She thought, absurdly, of how it would look if an orderly pulled the curtain to Aurelian's little cot area open and saw them there. Surely the rumors of their torrid affair would only die when Aurelian did. "I wouldn't take you for a laboratory rat, Veruna. They at least serve a useful purpose. Regardless, you're fortunate to be here and not the brig after what you pulled. Or the morgue. But your consistency is impressive, at least. Why don't you change the habit of a lifetime and allow those who know better to handle things on the surface?"

She finished with the buttons and carefully began to tuck the blouse in. The pain in her shoulder made things somewhat difficult. "If you have information that can materially assist Republic efforts on the surface, tell me and I'll make certain it reaches Dominique. But unlike you, I respect her position too much to call her up and make demands, or worse, drag her down here so you can do a reprise of whatever the hell your little fit was up there." Verity nodded upwards, vaguely, toward the bridge. She half-turned to massage her side as a deep breath caused a spike of pain.

"You look like shit, by the way," she added conversationally -- almost pleasantly. Verity studied him for another moment, the scorn and mockery fading to something that would make them both more uncomfortable: genuine concern. "What the hell actually happened to you up there?"

x

x

WITH

Aurelian Veruna • Dominique Vexx

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Sibylla Abrantes //:

Sibylla began to fire, the conversation a perfect distraction that let the woman snap back to her senses. This was a far less painful way of doing it, though if she continued to babble on, Quinn would have to slap her. As much as she would have loved to, it would have been counterproductive to their plans.

The communicator was snatched and attached back to the Noble's side. A small chuckle escaped Quinn's throat as it hid the rattled pattern of her breathing. At least there would be something hilarious to talk about in the netherworld… or wherever this Shiraya would take Sibylla in the afterlife. Quinn mused over her own little jabs and thought herself quite clever, but Sibylla was probably right about it all being due to blood loss.

Any other day, Quinn would heavily disagree and promptly start an argument to prove herself right.

Today wasn't that day, and right now wasn't the time.

She looked down, feeling a bit woozy. Maybe it would be better if she ran off into the horde, giving the brunette woman a chance to run. A Jedi would do that, right? Someone noble and with justice fueling their veins would sacrifice themselves for a fair maiden. Quinn looked up at the thought, seeing the sweat gather on the woman's face, her hair somewhat disheveled.

Maybe at some point Sibylla was a fair maiden, but in the Echani's eyes she was probably a 9 to her own 10.

Yeah, this was all delusion and blood loss.

"Go get them, Sibylla, you got this!" she promptly cheered the woman on. As she realized that woozy feeling was the force beginning to stitch her mind together, bringing everything back to where it belonged. Quinn sighed, relieved that either the person with the device was smeared or became dust where they stood — or Sibylla had more value to the person, and they released it.

Either way, Quinn needed a moment to search for her people and heal herself. She focused, stumbling back slightly, feigning still injured.

Her mind reeled over everyone she knew and cared for. Mercy was not herself; she could feel it. Usually, the thrill of battle echoed in their connection; she relished it, welcomed every form of it. But this… this was different. Quinn reached through, trying to add something to soothe or help focus — but the Titan… She was an untamable beast.

Because of this, Quinn frantically searched for her Mother — the only reason Mercy would be like this would be because something had happened to Srina Talon . Quinn breathed shallowly as she found her, weak, but still alive. Panic lit every nerve in the Echani; she felt her own emotions bubbling to the surface: anger, frustration—fear. All of it suddenly had a focus, and that focus was her defense against the incoming horde.

Quinn had allowed Sibylla to keep breathing solely because of the relationship they so hilariously called a friendship. Even if it was that.

Hatred burned underneath the surface of her skin; she wanted to drive her spear cleanly through Sibylla, but what would that accomplish? Her eyes looked away as the woman continued to plink away at the horde that was encroaching on them. Killing Sibylla would just put more blood on her hands, and if Srina died, that blood wouldn't bring her back.

Quinn began to use the Force, stitching the burnt flesh closed. It wasn't warm or kind like the light side of the Force, but at least with the fleshweaving, she wasn't going to die. The pain was temporary, but for most, death was permanent.

As she exhaled softly, she looked up. The horde was drawing closer, and she didn't know how much more bite that blaster had. She would need to act soon, but there were a few more points she needed to reach.

"You got this, Sib; you're my only hope…" She chuckled, stupid words of encouragement.

Pausing, she remembered. "EMP… they're weak to the EMP; if they get too close, just do what you did last time…" Her master can screech at her later — if she survived.

The wound was almost closed as she felt Eira Dyn … and Arris Windrun . The former seemed to be wallowing in her own pull of pity and frustration. Quinn, doing her best, sent reassurance, letting the girl know that she was safe and that she needed to be safe as well. Arris was far, weak, but far. She could sense the distance with the blood trail she had left on the underside of the cyborg's tongue. Odd place for it, but it was necessary. Arris seemed okay, but Quinn shifted uncomfortably, knowing that the woman had seemingly left her for a second time in the middle of a war.

Beyond any of those she was connected to, she couldn't sense her guard, 312. Panic once more settled in as she tried to rationalize the feeling. The trooper was often equipped with void items that kept her presence protected from the Force. But it would flicker in and out; right now, it was steady. There was no flicker, no sense of life, and Quinn felt her chest tighten further.

Like Srina, CT-312 was a constant. A constant that grounded her, and she didn't realize it until now. 312 shielded her from the Jedi, shielded her from the Black Sun; she was the one Quinn asked for after the situation on the Outbound Flight.

She was the one who was supposed to save her from this hellhole.

Quinn needed to find her.

"So who was on the other line, Sibylla?" Her lips curled slightly. "Dating a high-ranking official?" she sighed softly, almost whimsical as the daydream of a Lady Velvet scandal played out. "Maybe the King himself... gross."

Alas, they were in hell, not a romantasy novel.

The sewing of the flesh stung again, bringing Quinn's mind back to reality. She felt a bit better physically; mentally, she was a wreck. Conversation would help distract, both for her and Sibylla's sake.

A small incantation was whispered under the Echani's breath; the blood that clung to her hand became something more. Unknown to many, the Echani had roots in Dathomirian magic. Her Mother, the woman who brought her into this galaxy, was the daughter of a Clan Mother, a woman strong in her own right. The skill came easily, dreadfully so, and Quinn took this opportunity to mark her so-called ally. Reaching out, her hand rested, brushing gently as her pinky finger tapped just once, a drop of her blood against Sibylla's hand. It was small and unremarkable, but it would burn.

Quinn hoped the woman would be too distracted.

"I can take care of the rest; it seems whoever was on that comm would like to see you alive." Her hand forced Sibylla's down. "For some reason, when guns are pointed in my direction, I get shot, so please stand back and hide or something."

She stepped forward, seeing the horde now further gather; they were an endless sea of potential for the Echani. Remembering something from before, she called over her shoulder towards the Voice of the Houses.

"As for your god, I will drag her into whatever I please. She is not here, nor is she powerful enough to descend from her mythical throne and save you."

Quinn huffed, unimpressed.

"You are stuck with me. Fortunately for you, unlike your precious god, I actually possess the power to deliver you from this nightmare."

It was smug, perhaps even needlessly theatrical, but Quinn enjoyed every word of it. More importantly, it soothed the vicious wound her pride had suffered when she'd been so helpless only moments before.

Quinn's final words hung in the air as it grew dry and heavy, every trace of moisture stripped from the lingering haze. Every ounce of energy gathered into a single point above the massive horde. The sky ripped open, and a bolt as bright and immense as a Coruscanti skyscraper tore through the ceiling, blasting into the blighted walkers. Their silhouettes vanished in the glare. Quinn moved forward as the lightning dissipated, static still snapping through the charged air.

Golden ribbons began to bleed from the woman once more, cascading down her frame and spilling across the floor. Ghastly gilded vines rose in their wake, snaking around each of the figures, tightening as they writhed. Once more, their souls were consumed by the Echani. Their screams rattled through the Force, thinning into silence as they were lost to the horror of what she was.

In the distance, the war droid continued its rampage. Each thunderous footfall shook the floor, followed by a lighter pattering that sounded almost like rain. Smaller droids swarmed around its massive legs, picking off the dead and clearing a path towards the Echani.

They drew closer, their shapes emerging through the haze. Unknown to Quinn, 312 was completing her objective.

"Sibylla, please verify that we have an exit from this room..."

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique stood on the bridge with her right arm hanging at her side as she stared down at the projections. She blinked several times and shook her head in an effort to clear both. A scorch mark had seared itself along her back where the violet edge had struck as she tackled Aurelian.

"Chancellor, the Representatives are being treated in Medical. You need to--"

Her left hand shot out and grabbed hold of the front of the man's uniform. "I don't need to lie down, what I need," Dominique stopped for a solitary second before the riled edge to her voice was lost, "is to get our people out of that warzone," she finished in a more collected and dignified tone as she released their uniform.

How had it all gone so wrong? What more did they need to do? Were extreme measures all that would work? Did they need to destroy all life on some Sith-held world to demonstrate their resolve? That seemed to be the only thing the Sith themselves knew how to do. Destroy on a planetary level. The amount of lives and infrastructure loss was sickening. And all she could do was stand there and listen to one report after the other of people being cut off from evacuation camps, and navigating narrow safety corridors to get into orbit.

And, of course, everyone on the bridge couldn't have their Chancellor slamming her hand on the console and screaming like some barbaric Sith Lord.

Her golden eyes rose to look over at the Commodore before they fell back to the fleet distribution organized by the Director. "Have a Denon Response Fleet jump in and support Corridor Epsilon, Hotel, and Union. Drop additional defense platforms down onto the surface to deter Sith advancement."

"Ma'am, the Press is requesting time."

Make one declaration and suddenly they thought you had all the time in the world. "Have Media Relations feed them the current narrative. Remind them we are working the situation, and at present the Sith invasion has been constrained to Thyferra. Remind them we have sufficient medical supplies and there is no need to panic."

Orders given, Dominique took a moment to clench her teeth. Her shoulder burned. Her head ached. She felt like she could collapse at any second, but there wasn't time for self-indulgence. Not with both Verity and Aurelian off the bridge. Whom else could she entrust to manage the situation? Tiberius and Damos were military men. Well adept at their job, but there needed to be a strategic layer monitoring the situation to support them. They had enough on their plate responding to Sith forces.

Verity Stuyveris | Aurelian Veruna
FYI Tiberius Rath | Damos Rennar​

 

[Mercy]

Location: Thyferra
Tag: Srina Talon

The exchange had been tense between Acier Moonbound and herself.

A person for a person.

Lorn Reingard for Srina Talon and the promise she would not go hunting for Judah Lesan on top of that. A deal that was better than anyone ever got from her. By all rights Lorn should have lost his head, it would have been just, right, it would have satisfied her desire for blood. But Srina had lived... and she had asked for the encounter to end in something other than death.

Maybe it was so Acier would still be able to look at his aunt as his aunt.

Mercy wasn't sure.

But Acier had kept Srina alive, while Mercy came back to herself. That was enough to give him his mentor back. Scarred, hurt and wounded, but alive.

More than anything anyone got out of her when the battle raged that deeply.

"Do not…", she trailed off, gathering enough air to finish. "…Look so angry."

Mercy blinked back into existence. Metaphorically speaking. She had drifted off while holding her sestra. Looking at the way the ventilators did their job. The soft buzz of them calming her, somewhat.

"That is just my face, Srina." Mercy said confused, looking down at the Echani, stroking some of her hair away. "It always looks like this, as far as I know."

Then she leaned in to kiss her forehead. A gesture that Srina herself enjoyed to do every once in a while.

"I am still here."

That cracked a smile to her lips and Mercy nodded.

"Yes, you are a tough one." She grunted as the armor began to slowly draw back into her, until Warform was gone inside of her again. The insistent noises and sensations ceased to dominate her. Instead Mercy could focus on Srina's breathing. "You keep almost dying on my watch, you know."

Mercy said quietly even as she felt Quinn Varanin reach out to them. She tried to reach out in return. An all is well sign. Or as well as it could be. You as well?

"Coruscant, now this." She didn't count Humbarine when she herself had almost died. That didn't matter.

Again a lull in her speech as she thought back to what it had felt like. The void of the Force, the grief overwhelming. Mercy had never felt grief before.

It was a disgusting emotion.

Her hand moved up and wrapped around the Titan's neck. Her fury had been like nothing the white-haired woman had ever seen. Twined with grief…It was pure.

"Are you here?"

A blink and Mercy smiled, leaning in to rub her nose against hers.

"Yes, my sweet. I am here. But you need more help than me right now. Here." And Mercy, using her teeth would bite open her palm again... to allow Srina to recover faster.

They had started today like this, it was only apt that they'd also end it like this.

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

"Never Hide Your Heart"
​

Objective: The Long March
Tag: Aiden Porte

“Of course I am with you. Just tell me what you need.”

Katarine tried to smile confidently, but war zones like these were exactly the types of things she tried to avoid as a Jedi. Her mutation made the darkside influence her in peculiar ways. It was like kryptonite and she knew that if they ran across the Sith she might be less than useless.

On the other hand though she could feel the darkness surrounding them and she was still on her feet. The planet wasn’t spinning. In fact the only presence she felt completely was Darth Carnifex .

This knowledge shoukd have been positive but it made her feel contaminated. She had solved one problem by replacing it with a more dangerous one.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord leaned forward to watch the small seer work, neither interrupting nor intruding upon her diligent labors. Carnifex placed great stock in His many oracles, heeding the words born from the smoke of prophecy. Their visions had served Him greatly, yielding advantage far more often than calamity. With their strength added to His, He'd been able to twist all manner of events to His designs. This battle was merely one of them, envisioned through the mirrored sanguine pools of a bled wrist.

Even now, the Republic fought tenaciously to save as many as they could. Even as the jaws of the Sith clamped down hard, they refused to give in to it. They thrashed as hard as they were able, punching and clawing at the beast that had them by the jugular. It was a desperate scramble, anyone with eyes could see that, but it was not haphazard or uncoordinated. Even when withdrawing, the Republic still held fast to discipline and fraternity. A vexing combination, perhaps, but an expected one.

"You have done well, my little seer." Then, to the deck commandant, "Intensify the hunt. Push the Republic to the breaking point, I want to see how they adapt." Such an order was accepted without question, without hesitation. Every level of Kainate command, from top to bottom, existed to carry out the Eternal Father's will. From the lowest slave-soldier to the most capable commander, all were but tools deftly wielded in the hands of their immortal God.

So it would be done, but Carnifex was not yet satisfied. He looked to the communications officer, who fell to their knees in abject prostration. "Beam an unencrypted signal to the Grace of Theed, inform them that I wish to speak with Chancellor Vexx." As He commanded, so it was done. The Grace of Theed would receive an open communication from the Yaldabaoth, reading:

His Supreme Excellency, Undying Sovereign and Master of the Endless Dark, Darth Carnifex - Lord of All Lords, cordially welcomes Supreme Chancellor Dominique Vexx to an open dialogue. He extends this opportunity with the greatest sincerity, and greatly desires to see His offer reciprocated with proportional haste.​

Chasianna | Dominique Vexx ​

 

[Dominique Vexx]

"Unencrypted?" Dominique tore her eyes away from the projection to stare at the Communication Officer. The damn audacity of a Sith's propaganda effort. Sever communications, edit footage in real time and broadcast it, make an entire story up based on nothing... multiple reports of them or factions like them and their dogged pursuit of manipulation.

"Send back to them via the same method, 'The Chancellor of the High Republic, presently engaged with hostile Sith forces, is open to establishing a dialogue once those Forces cease combat operations in orbit around or the atmosphere of Thyferra.'" The man chose now to try and engage her in 'civil' discourse? He'd have to do more than ask politely while active combat was on-going. She only humored the notion because dialogue was one way to end such combat activities, but there'd still need to be a serious gesture of good faith. Unencrypted communication wasn't the best start.

It wasn't so much to ask they stop trying to actively kill the person they were trying to talk to, was it? She had even been exceedingly generous in not to requiring a complete cease fire prior to establishing dialogue.

Darth Carnifex​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Verity Stuyveris

The heavy silence of the two guards guarding his cot spoke volumes, their stoic visages masking what was clearly awkward surprise. Snapping that curtain back had exposed a far more unbuttoned Senator Stuyveris than intended, though Aurelian barely registered the breach of etiquette beyond a flick of mild disgust. The sight of her practical, unglamorous undergarments merely confirmed his long-held suspicion that her rigid personality extended to her wardrobe.

"She can keep that cursed rock for all I care," Aurelian growled as Verity yanked the curtain shut between them, his voice muffled slightly by the hanging fabric. "I just want her dogs off my heels."

A sigh escaped him as he crossed his arms, leaning back against the bulkhead like a sullen youth forced into isolation. Pulling the curtain a second time would only invite another round of point-scoring, and he had neither the energy nor the desire to spar with her.

"You don't understand, Verity," he muttered toward the cloth barrier, his tone shifting from outrage to a desperate edge. "I have to get down to the surface."

Her sharp retort cut straight through the partition, mocking his disheveled appearance and asking what, exactly, had transpired while he held the obsidian sphere.

Aurelian opened his mouth to spit back an insult, but the words withered in his throat.

Images flashed behind his eyes with sickening clarity: the empty, sun-choked streets of Theed, the suffocating eclipse, his dead father's cruel smirk, and Sibylla's terrified eyes as a blade pressed against her throat. The lingering phantom of the void's cold pull shuddered through his bones, leaving a hollow, lingering terror that no amount of royal bravado could mask. The arrogance he usually wore like armor felt thin, brittle, and utterly fake.

Sinking back onto the edge of the cot, he rested his elbows on his knees, staring down at his bruised hands.

"I don't know," he finally admitted, his voice dropping an octave. "Nothing good."

He trailed off, watching a drop of dark blood drip from his nose onto his boot. Swallowing hard to clear the tightness in his throat, he leaned his head back against the wall and offered a weak, familiar smirk toward the curtain.

"Why didn't you pull me off the damn thing sooner?" he deflected, forcing a flick of his trademark charm back into his tone to cover the crack in his composure. "I thought you cared about my health, Senator."

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Thyferra

Equipment:
Vanguard Robes | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

Ace kept walking. He didn't know how the hell he was supposed to get all of them out of this. The evacuation beacon was still somewhere ahead, barely visible through columns of smoke that rolled across the ruined landscape. Every few seconds the sky flashed as something burned through the atmosphere above them, too distant to tell whether it belonged to the Republic or the Sith.

Didn't matter anymore.

Behind him came the uneven footsteps of those he'd picked up along the way. Soldiers, refinery workers, Vratix. The wounded helping the wounded because there weren't enough able bodies left to go around. Somewhere farther west, another explosion rolled across the scorched fields.

Ace tightened his hold around Lorn and kept moving, then he felt the older man stir against him. Lorn's head shifted weakly, presumably taking in what remained of Thyferra around them. Ace didn't check. His eyes remained forward, picking a route through rubble and debris.

When Lorn spoke, Ace went quiet, jaw tensing. For several seconds there was nothing but the crunch of Ace's boots against ash and Lorn's dragging behind them. Srina's blood was probably still dried beneath Ace's fingernails. He could still remember her hand squeezing his. The wet hitch of every breath. Mercy taking her away.

"No." The word came cold, and he offered nothing else.

Static suddenly crackled from the communicator built into his bracer. Ace blinked. It was Kitt. Looked like miracles were still happening on Thyferra. He stopped, shifting Lorn's weight against himself until he could secure the Jedi more firmly with his prosthetic arm. His ribs immediately protested the adjustment. Ace grimaced, freeing his other hand and bringing the communicator closer.

"Lorn's with me. Hurt badly."

His gaze lifted. Through the haze he could just make out the silhouette of a ship descending toward the beacon, landing gear breaking through layers of dirty gray smoke.

Ace looked over his shoulder. The two Republic soldiers were still there. One leaned heavily against the other, barely keeping weight off an injured leg. The refinery workers followed behind them, faces streaked with soot, one helping the wounded Vratix forward. Others had joined somewhere along the way. Ace didn't even remember when.

Beyond them, Thyferra burned. Black smoke swallowed entire stretches of horizon. Alazhi fields that had once rolled across the landscape were reduced to scorched earth and glowing embers. Broken vehicles and machinery littered the retreat behind them, interspersed with bodies nobody had been able to stop for.

Ace looked back toward the descending ship. "It's not just us that need extraction. You got space?"

Lorn Reingard | Kitt Solo​

 

[Rin Taal]

Whatever had swallowed the presence of the living world had taken something Rin had relied upon for most of her life, and the silence where Muad should have been remained an ache she could not afford to examine too closely. She had already tried reaching for him and found nothing, and trying every few seconds again would not change that. It could, however, distract her long enough for someone standing in front of her to be hurt. The absence of the Force did not change what needed to be done, so Rin fell back upon the things she had learned long before she understood how to deliberately call upon it. She had her eyes, her ears, her hands, and more than a century of experience getting people safely from one place to another.

The evacuation shuttles had turned the plaza into organized chaos. Hundreds of frightened people could not simply be pointed toward four open ramps and expected to sort themselves out, especially with children, wounded, and families terrified of being separated in the crush. Rin moved along the nearest line, checking faces and injuries as she went, directing those able to walk toward one shuttle while making certain the wounded were given priority aboard another. She could no longer reach through the Force to sense which injuries were worse than they appeared, but she was still a healer. Fingers found pulses, golden eyes watched breathing, and years of practical medicine told her who could wait and who could not. "Keep the center clear for the wounded. Families stay together unless a medic tells you otherwise."

A man attempted to turn back against the flow, panic breaking through his explanation until Rin followed his gaze and spotted a little girl several meters behind him. "I see her. Stay here." She slipped through the crowd, collected the child, and brought her back without needing anything supernatural to accomplish it. There was no time to linger over the relief on either face. Another woman needed help climbing the ramp, while an elderly man had dropped a bag and was attempting to fight his way backward for it until Rin firmly informed him that whatever was inside could be replaced and he could not. Somewhere beyond the plaza came the unmistakable sound of fighting, and every instinct she possessed measured the distance between that violence and the people still waiting to board. The silence inside her remained, and Muad remained absent, but Rin kept moving.

One shuttle finally sealed and lifted away beneath the fighters protecting the evacuation zone. Its repulsors sent grit and ash swirling across the plaza, forcing Rin to turn her face away while her pointed ears flattened against her hair. She looked back the moment the air cleared and counted the remaining lines almost automatically. There were still too many people, but fewer than there had been, and right now that was what mattered. One person aboard became ten, ten became fifty, and eventually several hundred frightened strangers would become several hundred people who had escaped Thyferra alive. Rin had promised them she would find the road out, and she intended to keep that promise whether the Force helped her or not.

"Next group, move!" She waved them forward before stepping aside to help a limping woman whose arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a younger man. "Don't rush the ramp. There's room. Keep moving, and you'll both get there." The words had barely left her when the universe seemed to breathe again. One heartbeat held nothing but smoke, engines, frightened voices, and the terrible hollow silence she had been refusing to acknowledge. The next brought life rushing back into Rin with such suddenness that her step faltered. The Force flooded through Thyferra again, countless living presences igniting around her at once, almost overwhelming after their absence.

Rin did not waste even that heartbeat searching for Muad. She already knew where to reach, and her awareness crossed the distance between them with an urgency she made no attempt to temper. Somewhere within that impossible connection, she encountered another presence moving toward her at the same instant. Muad was reaching for her, but Rin met him instead of waiting for his touch to find her first. Perhaps neither of them truly reached first. The distinction ceased to matter the moment the dyad closed between them again, and the terrible emptiness disappeared.

Relief struck hard enough to steal her breath. Alive. Beneath whatever violence surrounded him and whatever pain his body carried, Muad was there. Rin wrapped her presence around his with enough force that there could be no mistaking what his disappearance had done to her. Fear escaped before she could contain it, followed quickly by relief, affection, and something fiercer born during those awful minutes when she had been forced to consider a world in which the silence might never end. Then his words reached her through the connection, telling her to get as many people off Thyferra as she could, not to wait for him, and promising that this was not where their road ended.

Rin's hand went unconsciously to the necklace against her chest. The future it had revealed returned with painful clarity: Muad, herself, a home, and children some deepest part of her had wanted long before she had been ready to admit it. His promise that he intended to see that future should have been enough to soften her completely. Instead, it came attached to an instruction that she leave without him, and her golden eyes narrowed as stubborn certainty rose beneath the relief still pouring through their bond.

No.

There was no hesitation in the answer, nor any real anger. Rin turned toward the next group waiting to board and motioned them forward, continuing to work even as she held Muad firmly within her awareness. She was not abandoning the people who had trusted her. Every last person she could put aboard those shuttles was getting off Thyferra first, and on that point she and Muad were in complete agreement. It was everything afterward that he was probably going to have a problem with.

"Keep them moving. Fill every seat and use the standing restraints if the crew allows it." Rin helped another wounded civilian toward the ramp while her attention remained partly turned inward. I'm getting them out. She let him feel the certainty beneath the words before her fingers tightened around the necklace. But I'm not leaving without you. I don't care how easy you think slipping off this planet alone will be, and I don't care how many times you tell me not to wait.

There was no desperate plea for him to abandon whatever he was doing and come running to her. Rin knew Muad far too well to expect that, and she would have resented anyone making the same demand of her while lives still depended upon her. He had people to protect. So did she. That did not mean either of them got to decide alone when the other should walk away. When her people were safe, she was coming for him, and the warmth she sent through the dyad softened without surrendering any of that certainty. You said this isn't where our road ends. So you can complain about me coming to find you when we're both somewhere else.

A faint smile touched Rin's lips despite the burning world around her as she released the necklace and returned both hands to the work before her. Another shuttle was filling, and another line was shortening. Somewhere across Thyferra, Muad was alive, and the Force had returned the one thing she had desperately needed to know. That was enough for now. She would finish what she had promised these people, get every soul she could aboard those ships, and then she was going to find him, no matter what Muad Dib had to say about it.

Muad Dib

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: Halm, Forward Operating Base
​

After insisting she was fine once she cleansed the poison from her body, and admittedly took a well-deserved nap on the Warspite, she had requested Fiolette to go to Halm instead of home. The Commonwealth's Fifth Fleet operating base was there, and she could accomplish several things there. She wanted an update on the progress of the battle, she wanted to start analysis of her helmet's readings and her own notes about what she had seen on the Grace of Theed, and she wanted to start getting damage assessments for Thyferra and what the costs would be to reconstruct there.

Sitting at the holotable, surrounded by Commonwealth officers and analysts, she was getting up-to-date reports from the battle from both the Sith forces and the Commonwealth fleet led by Rowyna Galeway . It seemed the battle had turned in their favor, and the Republic was in the midst of evacuating. The reports from the surface were staggering, hence why she had elected to sit down rather than stand at the holotable displaying Thyferra. Gerwald Lechner 's plan for the battle had worked, but the costs... oh the costs. Half of the planet had either been torched, bombed, infected with any number of the bioweapons they had brought, or otherwise ruined in some manner. Population losses were hitting eight figures at least, and that was just what was identifiable from confirmed deaths, reanimations, and evacuation shuttles escaping and analyzing how many people a ship could hold. She would not be surprised if that number would tick higher and higher.

And the credit costs...

Alazhi paddies completely wiped out or infected, refineries and laboratories destroyed or inoperable. There were still a few standing, and they absolutely needed to be secured. She was not particularly thrilled that she couldn't deploy her own personal forces to secure them, or the Commonwealth ground troops that would be part of the Fifth, but once the battle concluded completely... Thyferra would pass from Gerwald's oversight to her's. She would make sure of that.

Still, she needed eyes there... and eyes she would have. Closing her own, she would release the flock of familiars to begin making her presence known once again on Thyferra. One would alight upon Gerwald's shoulder, another would appear from Darth Carnifex 's shadow to sit upon his shoulder, one would form near Srina Talon and Mercy , hovering near the Echani Empress with its amethyst eyes and a thought drifting from it asking if either needed assistance, and one would appear out of Quinn Varanin 's shadow, so her apprentice would know that she could respond to any request she needed.

The one on Gerwald's shoulder would be offering him a look that would mirror its master's on her thoughts about the battle.

 

[Ivalyn Yvarro]

IY

IVALYN YVARRO

OUTSIDE SOBEKNEFERU

HALM

MORNING • 907 ABY

♫ IMPERIAL ARRIVAL - KEVIN KINERI

x

✦

The forward operating base outside of Sobekneferu had been assembled with the functional urgency that military necessity always produced, prefabricated command modules set in rough formation, sensor arrays on temporary mounts still being calibrated, the particular organized chaos of a logistics operation that had not yet fully decided whether it intended to be temporary or permanent. Supply lines moved through the gaps between modules with the tight efficiency of people who had learned not to waste steps. The smell of the place was characteristic, hot metal, something hotter from the field kitchens two modules over, the faint ozone trace of equipment recently powered up and still warming.

Behind the base, Sobekneferu rose in the middle distance, and it was difficult not to notice it. The pyramids and obelisks broke the horizon in the particular way of things that had been standing long enough to stop apologizing for themselves, stone that had watched centuries of political arrangements rise and fall and had formed no strong opinions about any of them. Halm's sky stayed clear more often than not, and this afternoon was no exception, a deep blue above, the kind that flattered the ancient stonework without trying to. The Tiyi River wound behind the city's southern edge, catching the late afternoon sun and returning it in long bright ribbons, the light moving on the water in a way that made the whole scene look more peaceful than the contents of any briefing Ivalyn had read in the past forty-eight hours suggested it had any right to be.

She had set foot on Halm less than an hour ago. The Margrave had settled into the landing zone with its characteristic quiet, and the Janissary had fallen in on either side of her without needing to be arranged, flanking her as she moved between the modules. They had been doing this long enough to know the pace she set and the space she preferred around her, close enough to be present, far enough not to crowd the thinking she was doing while she walked.

She was doing a great deal of thinking.

Lady Raaf had arrived shortly after the Margrave, which Ivalyn had noted and filed without comment. Fiolette could have taken Taeli anywhere in the aftermath of Thyferra, anywhere the Dark Councilor needed or wanted to be. That she had chosen the Commonwealth's primary staging grounds on Halm, rather than a dozen other destinations available to a member of the Dark Council moving freely in the wake of a significant Sith victory, was not incidental.

Although.

She paused at the entrance to the main command module, letting her gaze move across the organized activity of the base for a moment, analysts at their stations, officers reviewing the stream of reports still coming in from Thyferra, the particular quality of focus that descended on a room when the numbers being processed were too large to make immediate emotional sense of.

The reports out of Thyferra had provided their own answer, or at least the beginning of one. The scale of the damage. The Alazhi paddies. The population figures that the analysts had already noted with careful understatement would likely continue to climb. The credit projections that followed from all of it occupying their own column in the ledger she kept in her head, the one that was growing considerably heavier than it had been before the battle began.

The Commonwealth's thirty-seven refugees in Sobekneferu's eastern sector were a small number against that scale. She was aware of this. She held it alongside everything else and moved toward the entrance.

The Janissary took their positions without instruction. This was a room she was walking into alone. "Lady Raaf," Ivalyn called out, "I'd say it's a pleasure to see you, but I suspect circumstances that be have brought you here for reasons other than tourism, although I hear Ma'atkare and New Heliopolis are great this time of year."

✦

x

TAG

Taeli Raaf

Template stolen from Helena Cross

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Quinn Varanin

Go get them, Sibylla, you got this!

"Very helpful, Quinn!" Sibylla fired again, green bolts punching through the advancing dead as she gave ground. A curse broke her lips as she flexed her hands around the grip; the blaster was running hot in her hand and there were still too many of them.

Use EMP!

"Right!" Sibylla recalled how successful it had been earlier with a grimace. Her free hand tore the remaining pearl earring from her ear, and with a twist of her fingers she armed the concealed EMP and stun charges. Within seconds, the tiny pearl began to pulse against her palm.

"Shiraya forgive me, I rather liked these." Sibylla hurled it towards the horde, the tiered earring vanishing beneath the charging, twisted remains of those people who were unfortunate to be infected by the plagues distributed by the Sith.

The loud whomp of the blast sent blue-white energy ripping across the corridor. The technobeasts bodies seemed to seize mid-stride, their cybernetics sparking as the first ranks crashed into those behind them. Sibylla threw an arm across her face as the pulse washed over her shield, blue white light flickering over her for a moment. And just as she was about to start shooting again, the brunette felt Quinn's hand with a faint stinging pain force her blaster down.

"What are you -- "

Lightning tore through the corridor, causing Sibylla to recoil as the ceiling vanished beneath ripples of incandescent light. The blast swallowed the horde, thunder hammering through her bones before those horrible golden ribbons began spilling from Quinn again.

Words left Sibylla, for she had witnessed this once already. But even then, that did not make watching it again any easier. The dead writhed and someone.. no something, screamed beneath their screams, the pale shapes wrenching from ruined bodies before the arcs of gold dragged them inexorably toward Quinn. Once again, Sibylla's stomach rolled in nausea as they disappeared into her.

The Force was back... which meant someone had shut the artifact down.

Aurelian.

Sibylla's relief barely lasted a heartbeat, because once again the fear for his safety, for others, loomed over her. Why had he not called again? If Aurelian had received that transmission, he would have been relentless about establishing contact -- especially after hearing Quinn on the other end. He did not trust Quinn. He made that perfectly clear. Aurelian was not the sort who would have quietly accepted that Sibylla was trapped groundside with her.

Damnit, something was wrong. Before Sibylla could dwell on it, Quinn's smug proclamation about possessing the power to deliver her from this nightmare reached her. Sibylla instead rolled her eyes.

Had she had the time, she'd have told Quinn she had been possessed by a Goddess before, Shiraya herself.

But that would have opened up a can of Giju worms that Sibylla didn't want to answer. The sort that kept her also from letting Quinn know just yet that the comm call she had picked up went to Aurelian.

"Yes, congratulations, very impressive." The sarcasm did little to settle what she had just witnessed. There would be time later to reckon with what Quinn could do, what Sibylla had watched her consume, and how easily the same woman had condemned thousands of living people to death.

And it was that last part that had not changed, and in that mindset, Sibylla's expression hardened, and she turned to flick a glance at the blonde.

"Rescind the extermination order, Quinn! The Force has been brought back!" She was taking no chances with anyone else's life. Another distant crash shook the corridor, accompanied by the unmistakable thunder of something enormous approaching. Sibylla checked her blaster and glanced toward the nearest exit.

The sudden appearance of a shadowy, bird-like figure by Quinn's shoulder seemed to pass Sibylla's attention as perhaps just a figment of the chaos around her as she tried to drag the woman forward now that the path had been cleared. The scent of burnt flesh, acrid smoke, and metallic coppery tang seemed to coat everything, and Sibylla swore that if Quinn hadn't interrupted with her commentary, she just might have hurled them.

"And yes, I am looking for a way out. My diplomatic shuttle was docked up ahead. We can find a way out and work towards managing this mess."

Preferably before you start sounding any more like Aurelian Veruna , Sibylla mused. Although, considering how infuriatingly alike the two of them could apparently be, Sibylla was beginning to wonder what exactly that said about her.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Had He the desire to, He might have laughed. Instead, only the thinnest of smiles broke His otherwise placid countenance, the faint curling of the edges of His mouth and the subtle parting of lips to reveal a faint glimmer of teeth.

He raised one hand, visible to all on the command bridge, and the entirety of the Kainate fleet paused as one. The Axioms' cannons fell silent, and the swarms of Glaivewings disengaged pursuit, holding within sensor range but out of reach of the enemy guns. With this single gesture, the Dark Lord brought His entire force to heel instantaneously.

The Grace of Theed would then receive another unencrypted message, a single phrase that was as simple as it was direct:

Then let us speak.​

Chasianna | Dominique Vexx ​

 

[Srina Talon]

LOCATION: Thyferra [Refinery]
SITH ALLIES: Mercy

"That is just my face, Srina." Mercy said confused, looking down at the Echani, stroking some of her hair away. "It always looks like this, as far as I know."

Srina laughed softly, but it sounded all wrong. What should have been a velvet chuckle instead sounded like her throat had been rubbed raw with sandpaper. It took her a long moment to find the strength to reply, but when she did, the giantess was already pressing lips to her forehead. “No…It’s not.”, the murmur rose, recognizing the desire to provide some sort of reassurance or comfort. It would surprise anyone who knew the Covenant Sith Lord…

To know that there was gentleness behind the beast.

The pale Echani let her eyes close once more, feeling the Warform slip away, rather than seeing the exoskeleton disappear. Mercy was oddly quiet. Usually, in the wake of a victory, there was some sort of boisterous gesture, like thrones made of debris and bones. Rewards to those who served the Star-Arm and all that it entailed. Praise, to the Sith’ari.

“I have no choice…”, regarding being tough, to standing tall, even when all the galaxy wished that she would fall down and stay down. That same shudder ran through her body unbidden, the chill overwhelming, despite her affinity for the cold. This was different. She had to fight twice as hard as any of the Dark Lords in the Sith Order because of what she was. Mortal. Breakable—A woman in a seat that was most often occupied by men. It was something they could both relate to on different levels. “Death is…”

She breathed in, deeper now, struggling…But managing. It was a wound that would have put most people down for weeks. It had taken every trick, every bit of focus, every bit of blood that Mercy had spared her before the fight just to keep her heart beating.

“Inevitable. All things end…But dying in service to my children, to those I care for…”

A nose against her own, affectionate, in a way that told her the giantess was far more bothered than she wanted to admit. “That…Is worth dying for.”

There were several stark differences between herself and many other Sith, but none more apparent than her ability to do terrible, awful things while carrying equal passion for those she had chosen. There was no love stronger or more crushing than what the Blackwall Empress brought to bear because it drove her every action.

It was possessive, cold, and absolute.

Her eyes drifted down when Mercy opened her palm again, spilling copper, and the draw toward it was immediate. It was a solution. It would get her on her feet and put her back in the fight without making every breath she inhaled a self-help exercise in waterboarding. It would spread through her warm, take away her pain, and make everything as it should be. Srina was not pleased to have been shot in the damned neck by a wounded Jedi with piss-poor aim—But it was her burden. It was the price to be paid for stealing minutes to speak to Acier Moonbound in a warzone. To try…

To try not to lose him.

“Save your strength, Sestra…”

A familiar presence brushed against her, her sweet child, and Quinn Varanin would feel the presence of her mother settle on her mind like cool rain. She was injured, clearly. Srina could feel the strain in her, the pain, but she was alive. Reaching for Mercy…Reaching for them. The blood-soaked woman returned the pulse through the Force. It would carry a myriad of things. Pride, relief, and all measure of what an Empress could not say.

Her eyes turned back to Mercy, still watching that offered hand. Her throat burned, the muscles aching while skin pulled. “They seem to be retreating…But one of us at full strength is still better than both of us at half.”

The reports had all been consistent with Republic positions confirmed collapsed. Soldiers were scattering toward evacuation points, but it was a slog. There were so many wounded that it made extraction from Thyferra exceedingly difficult. The Sith would take no quarter, her children, would offer no sanctuary—Unless there was something incredibly worthwhile in it for them. The promise of bringing pain to the Light…

The call was too strong.

But Srina had lived far too long, had fought in too many wars, to assume that a “tactical retreat” meant destruction. They could very well rally for one last strike. “They are like locusts, Sestra.”

“Scatter them, burn their nests, crush them…And somehow they return.”

She paused when her lungs rebelled, and she coughed hard against Mercy before the fit eventually passed. Her hand stayed around the neck of the Titan while she leaned in, clammy, in a cold sweat, her forehead pressed against the woman’s throat. The flame-haired woman was at least warm in the frigid refinery. There were other dangers outside of the Jedi to contend with, creatures of their own design, and the Empress hadn’t forgotten.

Like many Sith tools of the trade…Biological warfare was a double-edged sword. A raven of shadow, familiar, landed near, and the silvery woman reached a hand toward it before pulling the creature into her chest. The Lady of Secrets ( Taeli Raaf ) had spoken. The battle in space was won at cost, but she still thought to render aid. The Echani kept it close.

“We have…Gotten in their way. Stolen their precious bacta…But we have not broken them.”

Yet.

That was the operative word. Yet. This was an opening salvo in which conquering this world had been momentarily waylaid by her nephew. She would burn the Republic down around him whilst not harming a hair on his head. The Jedi had made her bleed…

Srina would return the favor.