Invasion System Shock: BYOO | TSC Invasion of GE-held Coruscant Superhex Objective Three

[St. Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Meliant Galen Tagge

ABOVE THE GLOBE
(FLEETING)
II

D U S T B O R N

G L A R E

ABOARD THE MV: HEART OF MAR'ZAMBUL, EXITING LUNAR ORBIT,
CORUSCANT, GALACTIC DEEP CORE (904 ABY)

'OHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!! Stakes are rising, but I'm still committing!'
'Relax, man. I'm glad you're still riding the wave, but now isn't the time for celebration.'
'I get it, man.... Oh, chit! Hold on a moment!'

<"All drudges, ready weapons systems - and follow the Heart!">
<"Drudge Four-Three will obey both commands, Ulusar!">
​

The need for their most-brazen manoeuvre had finally come, though it called for more complexity than either Keshigs had anticipated, but Dustborn would be given plenty reason to believe the right wingman had been appointed for the endeavour; and once more with the sudden comm-chatter command for the Drudges, and in recalling that this wasn't even for the first time that day, Farnum could only smile at his own good fortune. Though it would soon feel as though the Avatars were working through Lurdsillan, most-notably when he advised,'Better get in touch with Lord Meliant, by the way. Rest assured, he'll relent when he sees what we're doing.... They're looking at the ground, Farn.... Know what I mean?', balling his right hand into a fist to illustrate his point.

'Oh.... OH! You slimy fething-'

<"Dustborn to Command - we're on the way.... Now, take note on how they're all looking at the ground.... They're doing the one thing you don't do on the street, and now, all these expensive ships of theirs are gonna be the first to float into the Galaxy's greatest cheapshot. Standby for our next sitrep.">
​

Cresting the curved horizon, the daylight-gleaming outline would momentarily hide what transpired beyond, but when the orbit slingshot-propelled them even farther, the full picture materialised before them, through viewport and holographics alike. On one side, the fleet under DSE control were under fire, (along with a few others they could see at the time) bracing for boarding actions for which the Keshigs knew the Imperial ships had not prepared; but on the other, Holographic side of the approach, Farnum could see the mines and debris-barriers left behind by the adversaries who completely missed their fly-by manoeuvre, representing the only obstacles between the Mawite fleet and the aversion of an Imperial noose.

'Smart move readying all our weapons systems, by the way.... Now check this-'

<"ALL Drudges, follow my lead, to the letter.... Shoot where I shoot, move where I move - and be quick about it!">
<"Drudge Four-Three will obey these commands, Ulusar.">​

Many in Farnum's predicament would have played safe, going for one or the other and taking their chances beyond that, but for a man of his Nomadic disposition, there would be no stopping him from having his cake and eating it too. Lurdsillan would understand his mentor's thinking almost immediately, taking this as his cue to work the Heart's cannonry, and in letting Dustborn do what he did best, immediately set to target-allocation tasks in anticipation of Farnum's craziest move yet. It felt good to gain responsibility over more than one warship, and to earn a chance to lead an entire fleet (and with it's capital ship, no less) was no small thing for men of their Nomadic ilk, thus giving both Keshig Bannermen their chance to make it count.

To make it a day to remember.

'Alright, Brother. Its time.'
'Finally!'

<"Dustborn to Command, we are moving in now, but observe as we create just the right measure of mayhem on the way in. We urge the Imperial fleets to capitalise on this mayhem with the utmost aggression, as it will be a while before we can assist our allies in orbit again.">
​

'BRIIIIIING IIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!'

​

After multiple clashes together, it seemed as though they had learned an optimal working rhythm and perfected it together, even matching on matters of tempo and timing alike, and it would become more apparent than ever in the following moments. Committing into a deep, wide-curving turn toward their intended ground-facing poise, the Heart would groan under pressure whilst the side-cannonry thundered to one side, though fortunately, the lock-on mechanics would handle the rest as the thrusters screamed under the sudden demand for newfound momentum. However, the flagship was far from the only thing screaming, and certainly not with two Bannermen desperately trying to fight the gravitational pull of their own creation, practically squealing by then.

It might not have been much, but the strafing fire would provide enough volume in firepower to relieve the strain on the Imperial fleet, and when it came to be the Drudges' turn, the Keshig duo would find themselves dumbfounded that their orders had been followed to the letter. Granted, their first shots fired toward fleet and debris alike had been close enough to count as near-misses for the Heart, but beyond that initial speedbump to success, their accuracy would prove remarkable, though not even half as much as their emulation of Dustborn's wild piloting. The real mayhem, however, still awaited down below, and if it would take treating a destroyer like a starfighter to prevail, it seemed that the Khan already knew that Dustborn was the one who could dare to dream with it - and dare to test the Heart to it's utmost limits.

​

'Dear Avatars, witness these souls for the feat they are to endeavour.'
'PUNCH IT, FARN!!!!'

[TZING]
[WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH]
​

Rushing headlong into their descent, they would not need to wait long to pass the planet's overpowered equivalent of an energy-shielding array, and after that, the Bannermen knew exactly what they were expected to do next. What the front viewport revealed next would be nothing short of stunning, and from that moment onwards, Dustborn and Glare alike would be gifted with every shade of frightening beauty along the way; oblivious to the incoming gift of many lifetimes' worth of awe-inspiring wonder, visions that would remain in the forefront of their minds forevermore, and all to occur in the span of just a few short minutes.

'Lock-on systems are live, Farn! GIVE THE ORDER!!!!'
'Weapons free - fire at will!'

​

Like lifelong dancing partners, the minds of the Keshigs came to life in the nearest thing to corporeal synchonicity, letting pilot and gunner step and leap in tandem with each other, and all controlled with the highest-calibre weaponry the Maw could deploy by the turn of the century. Yet the Keshigs could feel it, and perhaps on a soul-deep level as the engined roared and rumbled the Heart into motion, shaking the ship like a Mustafaran earthquake as Dustborn defiantly screamed,'FOR THE KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!', with every ounce of strength his lungs could muster.

If their tolerance of diving gravitational-pull could hold out, the first part of the hit-and-run tactic would succeed without fault, but that was merely the easy part of the attack, and they were almost moving past that point by the time Dustborn began to make his calculations. Test though it was to his focus, his train-of-thought, and even his consciousness, Farnum had enough small morsels of self-preservation to pull up a little earlier than previously planned, and though it would still pain his head and torso greatly to attempt it, it still made sense to try for the sake of preserving his fleet. It also meant being unable to catch a glimpse of their bombardment progress on the way out, but this was an easy compromise for the Keshigs, as the main goal was always to hit the Covenant fleet - and to bug out in the hopes their adversaries would bite the bait.

​

'If my innards make it out - unscathed, it'll be a miracle!'
'Its only gonna get worse, Lurdsi! So hold on - TO YOUR SPLEEEEE-'

​

Dustborn would nearly black out twice on the pull-up motion's early shift in gravity, but then something seemed to awaken within him, granting Farnum with just enough focus to complete the lower curve of his ascent; though this reserve of endurance had not yet found Glare, as in the midst of this brazen, irreverent trjectory, the young Zabrak had blacked out before he could see the fruits of his mentor's piloting merits. However, the Nomad of the duo instinctively,"Looked back", by chancing a glance at the Zabrak's holo-monitor, worrying that perhaps this was one manoeuvre too far for the Drudges of the Maw, though this would almost-immediatel simmer when he saw several other orange blips holding formation behind the Heart's orange diamond-icon.

The last and final near-blackout would occur soon after, but in seeing that his trajectory was veering far off from the remaining mines and debris in orbit - it all seemed to matter a measly morsel to Dustborn by then.

​

 

[Raymond J. Senée]

TAGS
Yuri Maji Vara Rasha Lilianna L'lerim

SYSTEM SHOCK
(BYOO)
II

​

PROTECTORATE SAFEHOUSE, IMPERIAL CENTER,
CORUSCANT, DEEP CORE TERRITORIES (904 ABY)

[SSSsss]
[THUD]
'Aaaaand - linked.... An' worry not, we'll work t'clear the skies for that soon enough.'
​

'But considerin' what's eatin' you now, I know its not that - but I'll try my best, all the same, to make sure she doesn't see.', the young Tuath began, trailing off to open the Tihaar bottle in the understanding that his Mandalorian acquaintance would know the meaning of both. The objective Yuri had taken on to himself, willingly accepted though it was, could not be understated for it's difficulty, as there could be no doubt that the Warhound's opposition would be a problem. It was a monumental task that the attackers would be taking on at the time, and in assumption of the difficulty in cutting power to an entire sector, Brandon could only hope that the Covenant were unprepared as he continued,'But if you survive, as I hope you will, I know we can avert the heartache - an' all the grief implied.', though saboteurs were always prepared, even in 904 ABY.

He could feel the uncertainty, (and without a single use of the Force to do so) knowing that the same adrenal weight still rested on his own shoulders after years of adventure, and in sensing that need to help Yuri punch through that first ceiling of potential, had realised early on that the time had come to fully-invest in the young Warhound's future. All in plenty time to see Maji do the drinker's honours, so when Senée passed the bottle, he admitted,'I feel it too, Brother. It took time for me t'learn more about it, but I'll jus' pass the gist of it down the line.... That fear, that nor-adrenal rush - its fuel.', giving voice to his own fear whilst prodding at his own skull with the cheekiest of grins across his face.

'Alright, lads. Interceptor's fuelled.'
'Damn, time already?'
'Would've been sooner if you'd known how to pilot, Ray.'

'In that case, I'll wish you good luck now, just afore ye depart.', Brandon drawled, with eyes still firmly fixed on those of his new friend, nodding with respect for bravery of which Yuri did not know he was showing at the time. The Shistavanen warrior would learn the truth of his own valour later, and perhaps even on Terraris, but for the time-being, all that remained was to remind,'Callsign's,"Serval", an' though I'll be puttin' in work on the rescues, my ear is standing by.', before taking his expected swig from the ceremonial Tihaar bottle. Then once more, that prodding finger raised toward his head, only to tap sidelong against his own ear-lobe this time, but that grin remained, unshifting against the change.

'Give 'em Hell, Mr. Maji.'

 

[Severus Barran]

TAGS
Yuri Maji Vara Rasha Lilianna L'lerim

SYSTEM SHOCK
II

Y O U N G - L I O N

S H A M A N

​

PROTECTORATE SAFEHOUSE, IMPERIAL CENTER,
CORUSCANT, DEEP CORE TERRITORIES (904 ABY)

'...Am. I. Karking. Clear?'
'Well-'
[Ssss]
[THUD]
'About that - I don't suppose you're a believer in Destiny, are you? Well, before you answer-'
​

It was enough to instigate a cursory glance shared between Michael and himself, and when Severus returned his gaze to Vara's own, he would take a moment to better-frame his preface before eventually continuing,'Relax, we see you. Like, see you, as in, we see that fire within; and, yes, its real, just like that which rests within Yuri.... A real warrior resides in the soul, not in the Force, and in mine - I've already invested in your future.', though spoken in hushed tones so as not to be overheard through the wall. But despite that, there would be no mistaking that the very tone of that day was shifting with his own shift in demeanour, especially as he admitted,'Safest place, across the entire planet, is with us.... But I have but one warning to give.', shifting gaze uncomfortably to one side as he paused.

Thinking then of @ Lilianna L'lerim, of the sheer panic in her eyes when she saw him wearing his ISB-uniform disguise, and the anxiety attack that followed, a terror so profound that it rendered the poor girl unconscious. This was an encounter that changed the young Lion deeply, just as it had for his Novanian friend, having predicted at least some level of captive cruelty, but nothing so psychologically scarring that it prompted such a visceral response to the uniform alone. However, this was only somewhat easier to bear than the intercepted reports of poisons injected into @ Tancred L'lerim 's bloodstream, of the beatings and advanced-interrogation methods used against him; yet none could know quite how bad the young Saint's circumstances had become, or at least, not yet.

'What you learn by my side, on this day of days, it could change your very outlook on war, as a whole.... And if you accept my presence as a guardian, I must also apologise, both for my recency to tactical combat-strategy, and for what you might see along the way.'

​

Whether Barran wished it or not, he could not abide sitting idly by whilst another close friend was suffering, and by extention, nor could he of that friend's family, for that made them an extention of his own. Actively disregarding the fact that the Galaxy had become a brutal, bloody spot in the cosmos, and so brutal that it continually struck close to home for the leaders of the Protectorate, pushing it all to one side for the sake of belief in something better, caring against all hatred in the hearts of friend and foe alike. This ideal would doubtlessly be tested, but that Barran-like persistence had always been a wonder for others to behold, clinging to the young Lion's blood like tar, peristing against all-things dismay.

'The Galaxy grows darker by the day, but we'll watch your back.'

'Alright, lads. Interceptor's fuelled.'
Damn, time already?'
'Would've been sooner if you'd known how to pilot, Ray.'
​

Extending his right hand peacefully, working to play his part in sealing the deal officially, Severus dropped the rims of his sunglasses to look Vara in the eye, giving the occasion it's due sincerity for the sake of a brave new acquaintance. But it was in this moment that the true confidence began to return for the young Lion, along with all that belief in the path he chose, but when he queried,'Believer of Destiny yet?', and without a single drop of the previous discomfort to be seen, it would become apparent before long that more than the man himself was at work that night. Whether it was the Force, Ashla, or even just the mere resonating pulse from one soul to another, it all seemed to matter little and less to those who never understood the rushing-intensity of life on the edge, though Barran hoped it would come to matter for both Rasha and Maji alike.

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

Utu-Gar

The Blazing Chain Fleet "Wrath of Vahl"
Combined Vahlan and Hapan Armada

High Atmosphere Above Coruscant's Surface
​

Aboard the heavily modified Sabaoth-class destroyer Sunfire Judge stood Utu-Gar, First Captain amongst the Vahlans. At the battle of Atrisia it was he who led the assault upon the Imperial Star Destroyer Sovereign's Pride and took it by force of arms. The veteran captain was cunning and calm in the face of danger. Implacable as stone.

He could feel the presence of the Qhan lurking in the back of his mind. An unsettling sensation. Like standing too close to a fire. The pressure from the Qhan's will was nearly a physical thing. Directing him.

Why did Hasuras not trust the seers? What they had seen in the fires would come to pass. Victory was inevitable, for they were the Chosen of Vahl. And no twice-defeated remnants of a Maw Horde would stand before them.

The bulk of the pirate armada of the Covenant now hunkered beneath the planetary shield thanks to the free right of passage given to them by the Maw fleet, who for what ever reason had decided to make an orbit around the planet. Squadrons of starfighters and bombers now busied themselves engaging the planetary defenses.

On one side, the fleet under DSE control were under fire, (along with a few others they could see at the time) bracing for boarding actions for which the Keshigs knew the Imperial ships had not prepared; but on the other, Holographic side of the approach, Farnum could see the mines and debris-barriers left behind by the adversaries who completely missed their fly-by manoeuvre, representing the only obstacles between the Mawite fleet and the aversion of an Imperial noose.

It might not have been much, but the strafing fire would provide enough volume in firepower to relieve the strain on the Imperial fleet, and when it came to be the Drudges' turn, the Keshig duo would find themselves dumbfounded that their orders had been followed to the letter. Granted, their first shots fired toward fleet and debris alike had been close enough to count as near-misses for the Heart, but beyond that initial speedbump to success, their accuracy would prove remarkable, though not even half as much as their emulation of Dustborn's wild piloting

The First Captain's eyes narrowed as the Maw fleet came back around the planet and started opening fire both on his fleet and on the mines and conner nets. They seemed to be charging straight through, blundering forward like a blind and infuriated Reek with no greater stratagem. The conner nets and mines seemed to have no effect on them but as the Maw ships moved, they fired.

Utu-Gar did not know who was the first to laugh. Perhaps one of the crew at the sensor systems. But it was infectious. And in seconds the entire bridge crew of the Sunfire Judge was laughing.

Laughing as the hailstorm of hellfire from the Maw fleet rained down and pummeled against their own planetary shield in blossoms of red and blue.

The laughter subsided as the enemy vessels passed through the shield and the two forces exchanged volleys of turbolaser fire, missiles, and railcannons that tore apart atmosphere in a deluge of criss-crossing contrails and bright flashes that left afterimages in the eyes of the beholders.

But the enemy ships were limited in how many could pass through at once and still be in range of their weapons envelope. Not so the Vahlan and Hapan pirates, who unloaded devastating volleys.

Blindlingly bright explosions rocked the atmosphere a Blazing Chain corvette detonated, colliding into a freighter that it took down with it. Others listed aimlessly, engines sputtering. Still more spewed smoke but continued the fight.

Then the strangest thing of all happened. The enemy vessels, pointing directly downward, started to turn back up and make back out into open space, back past the planetary shield.

If their tolerance of diving gravitational-pull could hold out, the first part of the hit-and-run tactic would succeed without fault, but that was merely the easy part of the attack, and they were almost moving past that point by the time Dustborn began to make his calculations. Test though it was to his focus, his train-of-thought, and even his consciousness, Farnum had enough small morsels of self-preservation to pull up a little earlier than previously planned, and though it would still pain his head and torso greatly to attempt it, it still made sense to try for the sake of preserving his fleet. It also meant being unable to catch a glimpse of their bombardment progress on the way out, but this was an easy compromise for the Keshigs, as the main goal was always to hit the Covenant fleet - and to bug out in the hopes their adversaries would bite the bait.

​

Space let ships maneuver freely, unhindered by air resistance and gravity. Not so the atmosphere. Capital ships behaved sluggishly in such an environment and the antics of Dustborn and Glare, treating thousand meter long capital ships like dive bombers, exposed them to sustained enemy fire as they sought to pull back up and away from the conflict and lead the Vahlans and Hapans on a merry chase back out into space.

Brazen. But folly.

As Dustborn and Glare pulled their ship away, Utu-Gar's fleet let volley after volley rip into their bellies. Utu-Gar did not know the damage assessments yet, but time would tell.

Utu-Gar stared at the tactical display for a moment, then barked out another laugh and pointed.

"Think us newborn lambs to follow their flock blindly? See that, Irtul? They seek to use tactics we have refined for centuries against us. But they must be captained by fools."

The Vahlans did not take the bait. And the price for seeking to dangle meat in front of a tuk'ata would be the hunter's own hand.

St. Thomas Barran

 

[Tyrant 4]

ATMOSPHERE OVER CORUSCANT

"Amidst the blue skies, a link from past to future. The sheltering wings of the protector..."

Engaging: Hall Mannarra
Wingman: Tyrant 1
​

Cypher left thoughts of capital ship combat to the admirals and captains, focusing in as point defense cannons burst around her and alarms wailed inside her cockpit.

Tyrant 1 soared past her, his flying looking effortless. Weightless. Like a dance.

<How does he do that?> she muttered.

As Emperor took out more Anti-Air emplacements, priorities shifted. <Get me a target Ar-Nine.>

A reticle appeared on her display and she banked left and down.

It looks like some sort of armored vehicle. Cypher locked her S-foils into attack position and accelerated toward the tank. She squeezed the trigger and her laser cannon chattered, red lancets bursting down, chewing up everything in a line toward the tank. Then she buzzed past. She placed a palm on her cockpit glass and turned her head, trying to glance back as her B-wing soared up and away.

<Did I hit it?>

​

 

[Kirie]

Tag: Madrona A’Mia | Anet Raine | Makko Dres | Lina Ovmar | Nilira Vornix | OPEN

"Kirie," she whispered, "I don't think now is time to fl--"

Kirie flushed brightly and gave Anet the barest shake of her head. That was not what was happening. Luckily, the girl had figured out what was going on pretty quick.

In the distance, there was a crash like a meteor, signifying the arrival of Mercy and the great Sith that accompanied her, each a legend in their own right. She caught sight of Arris, and then a familiar flash of white hair she thought might have belonged to Quinn. Kirie's eyes widened in surprise and her stomach flipped, an unexpected wave of grief and loneliness threatening to overwhelm her. Only the wide expanse of the palace grounds separated them, but they might as well have been on different planets. Even as she watched the ensuing battle swallowed the group and she could not make out any distinct figures.

Kirie returned her attention to the problem at hand. Just as Kirie had anticipated, all of the Covenant's leaders were occupied.

'Listen, Anet, this is going to be my last mission.' Kirie's fingers drummed out the words, and she absorbed the range of expressions as the group noticed their clasped hands. Embarassing, but not something she'd have to deal with much longer. An astute observer may have noticed that Kirie seemed to be carrying more supplies than would be needed for a mission like this. Her satchel, the bags on her belt, and even the voluminous pockets of her skirt were full of items. That morning she had spent hours packing and repacking to fit as much on her body as she could without it being too noticeable. So far, nobody had said anything.

Perhaps, if any of their field trip even made it off Coruscant, they would whisper to each other about how Kirie had always seemed suspicious, how they'd noticed her overstuffed pockets and read the grim determination on her face, how they'd known the moment they'd seen her she couldn't cut it.

Her hands continued to trace symbols into Anet's palm, short staccato sentences. Her skin was soft, but calloused in places in a way that surprised her. Kirie would not have picked Anet for manual work.

'I'm leaving.' Kirie signed. 'When there's a distraction, or a chance to sneak off. The Covenant are monsters, and I won't let them warp me anymore.'

Kirie heard Neriah speak and she nodded sagely as if in agreement, though she hadn't actually caught the words.

'It has to be now. They won't be able to come after me here. I can disappear into the lower levels.' She had thought about it for a long time after Arris had told her the Covenant’s plans. Logically, she was sure the Sith had no hope taking a jewel like Coruscant. Secretly, she feared they would manage it. Either way, the aftermath of the battle would bring fear and panic that she could use to slip away. In her heart Kirie knew they would not let her leave of her own volition. It had to be this way.

Kirie looked fixedly at Anet, her eyes pleading. Still her hand etched out silent touch-signs.

'Anet, you should come with me. I'm going to ask Neriah too.'

​

 

[Anet Raine]

TREE HEIST
Kirie Madrona A’Mia Makko Dres Nilira Vornix Lina Ovmar | OPEN

She felt it immediately in the Force; something was wrong. Anet's heart pounded rapidly in her chest. She felt faint. Her hands grew numb. In a way, it dulled Kirie's signs against her palm, as if the brunette's voice came through a glass jar.

'Listen, Anet, this is going to be my last mission.' Kirie's fingers drummed out the words, and she absorbed the range of expressions as the group noticed their clasped hands.

Had Anet noticed any of the signs? Why would she? Kirie was her friend. They were going to achieve great things together; rise to the top of the Sith together. Embrace their lives for what they truly were - a reflection of the universe. Everything beautiful... all things ugly... The pain, the hate, the vulnerable moments. Everything.

'I'm leaving.' Kirie signed. 'When there's a distraction, or a chance to sneak off. The Covenant are monsters, and I won't let them warp me anymore.'

The scholar's eyes went wide. The fear turned to a sense of betrayal, and it made her sick.

For a moment, she leaned her weight against Kirie before righting herself again. It might have interrupted a word or two, but she caught the rest of the woman's plan in gist.

Anet's head turned slowly to match Kirie's pleading gaze. Her cheeks twitched as her mouth quivered somewhere between teeth clenching and a frown, and thin tears streaked down the grooves along her nose.

'Anet, you should come with me. I'm going to ask Neriah too.'

She didn't want to hear any of it. "No more!" She thought to herself, a scream unmustered - except by how her hand squeezed around Kirie's. Not quite possessive... afraid to let go.

Her other came up, fingers splayed, until her palm rested against where she expected Kirie's heart. It didn't matter if she couldn't feel the acolyte's beat; it was what she wanted her to feel that mattered. Perhaps Kirie was trained, equipped, or in some way had the willpower to resist. Otherwise, Anet poured all her distrust and heartbreak into the Force. A ripple not meant to harm, but touch the woman's mind with every fleeting desire and emotion she could no longer contain.

"Stay," she whispered. A pathetic, broken plea rendered hoarse by a tight throat. "You have a gift..."

Her head snapped to the others. By Chaos, she didn't want them to know of Kirie's plan! They would kill her! Or if not them, then another acolyte, a knight, some lord, one of the Triumvirs - it didn't matter. Why did Kirie want to leave?! In a fit of anger, Anet removed her palm and instead latched onto the woman's shackle and held up her wrist. She didn't care about making a scene anymore.

"This!" Eyes never left Kirie's. "We're here to break this!" She couldn't help but spit it.

 

[Vara Rasha]

CORUSCANT | IMPERIAL CENTER
ALLIES: Fellow Vod | GE | IMPAF | Yuri Maji | Severus Barran | Raymond J. Senée
ENEMIES: Covies | Anyone Who Stands Before Me | TBD

Exfiltration​

'About that - I don't suppose you're a believer in Destiny, are you? Well, before you answer-'​

The harpy took a sharp pause.

Her seething anger was barely kept restrained. A series of quite the colorful selection of profanities and slurs hand picked for the occasion was killed in her throat for the sake of hearing where this human was going with his this.

'Relax, we see you. Like, see you, as in, we see that fire within; and, yes, its real, just like that which rests within Yuri.... A real warrior resides in the soul, not in the Force, and in mine - I've already invested in your future.', though spoken in hushed tones so as not to be overheard through the wall. But despite that, there would be no mistaking that the very tone of that day was shifting with his own shift in demeanour, especially as he admitted,'Safest place, across the entire planet, is with us.... But I have but one warning to give.', shifting gaze uncomfortably to one side as he paused.

Vara’s crimson squinted. A healthy dose of suspicion glowered from them as she kept her eyes unflinchingly on the young man’s. The mention of the ‘safest’ place on this planet to be along their side drew a scoff out of her. “SAFEST place-..” A snarl, her retort left incomplete, yet the notion she desired to voice out unmistakable.

Did he even listen to her, like he suggested? See her, like he said?

The obstinate Foundling was just about to be done with him and this lot and storm out to go after Yuri -where ever he was now- to be of use to him in some way rather than waste time with this, but what the Young Lion had to say in the following breath had her reconsider her next step.

'What you learn by my side, on this day of days, it could change your very outlook on war, as a whole.... And if you accept my presence as a guardian, I must also apologise, both for my recency to tactical combat-strategy, and for what you might see along the way.'​

Vara took a moment to process his words. In the same breath, her shoulders loosened, her head bowed forward as she drew a sharp inhale through her snout. Her eyes shifted to the streams of tactical information the holomap showed to all those in the room. The imperial comms they eavesdropped buzzed with new activity. Nameless voices barked sharp orders, reports read hastily. Information exchanged with brevity.

In the same moment, the two other humans confirmed their readiness in between a quick exchange of banter between one another as they returned. A human, and an Arkanian. The woman shot a gaze at the two, their faces previously unfamiliar, before settling back upon Severus’ shades.

'Believer of Destiny yet?'​

Eventually, she came around after a brief moment of consideration.

The vehement storm in her core had calmed enough to speak without sounding like a riled up spacer with an attitude and a severe lack of solid caf. “‘Kay-..” The harpy murmured after a breath; the foundling drew herself up, her arms crossed over her chestplate. Suspicion continued to linger in her eyes for a moment, before she went to hold out her hand. “Comrades,” Her voice rolled from her core at a low growl. “Not guardians.” Vara corrected him.

A middle ground she would be pleased to reach with him, should the human agree.

It would become clear to Severus that the harpy had a problem with the framing he chose to use in his words. As much as her training and upbringing as a Foundling was far from even reaching halfway, she had her uses, as the Young Lion and his lot would come to recognize.

In a breath, her hand worked up past the Young Lion’s hand he had extended to her in his gesture of sealing this deal, and went on to strongly clasp him by the forearm. She pulled him closer, and leaned forward at the same time. Her snout inches away from Severus’ right ear. “...You’re gonna have to run me through the briefing again while we’re enroute,” Her private confession came at a begrudging tone, almost like an apology.

The woman rose back to her length as they broke away from the physical manifestation of their reached common understanding. The harpy took a glance at the other two as she drew on to her multiple grenade launcher from over her shoulder. “C’mon. Daylight’s burnin’.”

“Let’s get this done.”​

​

 

[Hall Mannarra]

THE GALACTIC EMPIRE
LOCATION: Coruscant | Several Klicks Out The Imperial Center
DATE: -DATA CORRUPTED-
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: Detect & Overrun Enemy Landing Sites | QRF
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: N/A
ALLIES: THE GALACTIC EMPIRE | N/A [OPEN]
HOSTILES: COVIES | Tyrant 1 | Tyrant 4 [DIRECTLY ENGAGING]
UNKNOWNS: Yuri Maji | Severus Barran | Raymond J. Senée | Vara Rasha | Open For More
GEAR: In Bio

An Ace Reborn​

The ground under them trembled before the might of their armor.

The mechanical, high pitched squeal of their roadwheels entwined inseparably with the heavy grind of their tracks on the roads; the noise of their advance rang sharp in the streets, carried from one block to the other as the column continued its advance, yet to be impeded by their enemy.

Enroute to a checkpoint as they were, the Lieutenant’s command net was yet to flare up with a buzz of activity in his sector. It was almost peaceful, like they were on an exercise maneuver, even as the shrieks of their anti-aircraft guns grew louder, as they tore the very skies above them.

But the young man could sense it.

A distinct buzz, at the back of his head. A tingle he was well acquainted with. His piercing light blue gaze reached a new sharpness as he glared from one corner of the street to the other, expecting treason under every rock. What’s this now? A wordless interrogative rang in his mind. His glance sharpened at the sight of unfortunate souls leaving their homes and shops in a hurry, urgently making for the opposite direction of the column’s advance. <”Crew,”> The Lieutenant’s voice rang sharp in the intercom. <”Button up,”>

Their acknowledgement to his command came wordless, as Aldrich, situated not far from the commander’s hatch, grabbed hold of his loader’s hatch, and pulled it over him as he went to disappear into the fighting compartment.

Hall instinctively shrank his posture further into his hatch in the same breath, his one good hand grabbed hold of the rim, as he lingered to look out the open commander’s hatch; the unimpeded visibility was more preferable in this moment, than what his panoramic periscope had offered.

The distinct, faint buzz at the back of his skull sharpened, like the onset of a debilitating migraine.

A warning.

A curtain befell the sharpness of his gaze amidst a shift in his focus. The tank ace began to listen out for what he could not see with his eyes. And at first, his hearing did not pick out the heralds of the threat from over the metallic clatter of their tracks, and the powerful growl of their motor. But the signs were there. Before long, he picked out an incoming loud whine. The roar of an engine not of their own; the monotonous pattern of anti-air rose up sharply.

The droning pain at the back of his mind screamed to take immediate action..!

The young commandant’s eyes grew large in realization in the same breath. Haste in his motion, he reached out for the toggle to his throat microphone, alerting his unit. <“AIR ALERT!”>

In the same moment, dust and earth erupted in columns from the ferrocrete roads, chunks and debris flung in all directions as glowing red lancets began to tear their way towards ‘221’. <”WOLFGANG! RIGHT STICK!”> The tank lurched and pivoted towards the right; understanding the assignment, and seeing the incoming strafing run from his driver’s viewport, the young driver brought them quickly out of harm's way. Pocks of craters marked where they would have ended up as the dust swallowed the armor in the same breath the aerial attacker whizzed past them in the skies.

The Mantellska’s in the column wasted no time to engage while on the move with the rest of the armor; acquiring lock on and with active tracking engaged, their cannons tore the air with a shriek in a long winded salvo to clip its wings while the enemy B-wing rose back to the skies from the gun run.

Thinking quickly, the young man reached for his radio; ::”Column! Deploy smoke! Disperse! Continue advance to the rally point! Offer NO easy targets!:: The Lieutenant’s sharp bark of commands were met with immediate action. The streets bellowed impenetrable white smoke before long, as the column split into multiple smaller groups. At the same time, the Mantellska’s sharp retaliation came to an abrupt punctuation. Swiftly moving to reposition separately for a better firing solution, the anti-air crew killed their radar on the move to prevent their enemy from carrying out SEAD operations so freely against them.

Hall knew continuing while packed in a single line was asking for a mass casualty event. That simply would not do. And as risky as dispersing was in its own right, where every smaller element had to find its own path towards the rally point, one silver lining to their problems were that they were still in friendly territory. They did not have the fear of taking contact from enemy infantry.

And their anti-air net could still be of use.

The tank ace’s eyes squinted in an attempt to block out the dust set to irritate his retina. <”Wolfgang, take a side road!”> Hall’s command rang sharp in the intercom.

<”Roger!”>

The turret ring whined sharply as the main gun swept the street from left to right, as Schultz stared through his gunner’s sights. The crew felt their bodies shifting to the side as the driver brought them around. <”Karkin’ hell…”>

The tank ace’s jaw clenched. A million possibilities played out in his mind as his gaze looked to the skies in search of the silhouette of this winged interloper. They expected to be met with enemy air, but not this soon. Even less so in a sector so strongly knit with their air defense net.

Either these were the luckiest and dumbest jet jockeys in the air, or someone in charge of their air defense had made a big mistake.

But the fact of the matter hardly mattered now.

They had to find a way to shoot them down, or deter them long enough for their air defense to take them out!

He could feel his knuckles turn ivory white under the black leather glove as he held a firm grasp on the sill of his hatch. <”We’ve got to keep their guns on us,”> Hall began sharply. <”We will present them a natural target. Gather your courage everyone! Wolfgang!”> The tank ace addressed his driver. <”Turn left from here,”>

With another pivot, the armored beast turned like an elegant ballerina, headed for an exit towards the main road, several hundred yards up from the convoy’s air ambush site. His eyes continued to search the skies as he spoke. <”Continue your advance,”>

<“Copy!”>

<“Schultz, ready yourself.”> The young gunner would feel a brief nudge of the boot poke into his armor’s backplate.

<“Aye, commandant! Ready!”>

<“Aldrich, get ready to load VT fuze. Deploy smoke on my mark,”>

<”Ready, LT!”>

<”There!”> His eyes finally met the enemy. In the distance, turning for another run. <“Wolfgang! Halt, full left pivot! Swing the front around!”> his excitement showed in the heated tone of his voice, as much as the tank ace’s experience kept the intense pressure in check. With a shudder, the tank staggered to a halt in a forward lurch, and pivoted to the left a heartbeat later.

The turret’s hydraulics protested sharply in a whine as Schultz brought the gun around at the same time. His eyes widened at the sight of the airframe in his sights. <”Gunner, HEAT, fixed-wing!”> Hall shouted the gunnery order; the type of which he thought he’d never give out. <”ON,”> his confirmation of target came swiftly upon Schultz bringing the smoothbore to bear.

<”Fire, fire VT fuze!”>

<”ON THE WAY!”>

The gunbreech recoiled back with a strong muffled THUMP. The spent shell clattered on the floor of the fighting compartment. In the same breath, the loader fetched the designated round and went to feed it into the gunbreech as Schultz watched the fin stabilized HEAT round arch in the air. Fallen short of the B-wing, the tracer was swallowed by the horizon of buildings in the gunner’s sights.

<”VT FUZE, UUUP!”> Aldrich barked over the intercom in the same moment he closed the breech shut with the new shell fed.

<”Short! Re-laze!>” The ace’s sensing and order in the same breath bit sharp in his gunner’s ear as Hall took his grasp to the handle of his hatch, bringing it down half closed as the aircraft’s whine drew nearer. <”Wolfgang! Reverse on my mark!”> His orderly whites shone as the man cringed in anticipation for an incoming hit began to entrench itself in his core. Watching wide eyed as the airframe grew larger. <”Steady… Steadyyyy…”>

…THERE!

<”NOW! SEND IT!”>

<”ON THE WAY!”>

The breech lurched rearward once again as the main gun bellowed fire. The dust rose from the rubble strewn ground in the same heartbeat of the smoothbore’s gun rapport; his breath caught in his core, Schultz watched the shell pierce the skies as it shot towards the B-wing, expecting to see a brief flash of orange upon its sensitive fuze detecting proximity to the enemy.

 

[Rixa]

ORBITAL APPROACH | CORUSCANT SUPERHEX | WAYWARD STAR

The stars twisted and snapped as the Wayward Star dropped from hyperspace, its hull shuddering with the stress of reversion. Metal groaned. Something sparked. Nothing caught fire this time.

"All systems nominal," Voro Kesh muttered through his cigarra. Smoke curled into the cabin. "Nominal for this deathtrap, anyway."

They had stolen a hypertuned Vanir freighter for piracy. They were not the right engineers to keep it safe.

Rixa leaned forward in the pilot’s seat, boots kicked up on the console. She stared out the forward viewport, watching the battle unfold in streaks of fire and pinwheels of debris.

"Scan the fleet edges," she said. "We're not here for a capital brawl."

"Tell that to the Hapan we just grazed," Sial snapped from the rear panel, rerouting coolant through the starboard coils. "Remind me again why we’re threading a needle between warships?"

The Wayward dipped low, banking past the golden crescent of a Hapan Battle Dragon. Its shields flared as a warning shot fizzled wide.

"Because I like to make an entrance," Rixa said. She grinned, even if no one could see it.

Below, the chaos of battle was spreading. The Maw fleet twisted through space like a pack of jackals, while Covenant pirates poured toward the planet’s surface. Imperial ships tightened formation, but there were stragglers: cutters, frigates, anything slower to turn.

Rixa tapped the edge of the nav display.

"That one. Frigate class. Sitting just outside the main screen. Big enough to be worth stealing. Small enough to get sloppy."

"You planning to ask nicely?" Voro asked dryly.

"Nope."

She stood, holstered her revolver, and clipped her sword to her hip. The glint in her eyes was the same madness that had carried them through fifty jumps and a dozen botched raids.

In the hold they had two squads of elite sith covenant troopers. The task was simple. Use them to steal a ship and get to keep the ship. Payday was the prize they stole.

"Prep the drones. Let’s knock."

Ready to board herself, she cast her gaze across the scanners. It was chaos, between the imperial fighter screen and maw vessels.

She laughed.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Objective Three
Coruscant

Approaching​

The Imperial Palace
Tags: Madrona A’Mia Anet Raine Kirie Makko Dres Nilira Vornix
"Tree Heist"
Objective: Steal This Tree​

Lina chuckled as A'Mia's exclamation, the swearing seemed so unnatural coming from her lips, but her dear friend was anything if not adaptive and within seconds they had a new plan. "Nothing like a little bit of remodelling to start the day."

Neriah obeyed her professor's instructions, moving just behind the A'Mia as she took off but Kirie and Anet were, as she had already determined, distracted. Emotion swelled between the pair of them, tears stained Anet's face and Lina let out a sigh. Of all the places to have a domestic…

When Anet raised Kirie's arm, drawing far more attention than needed, Lina moved, closing her hands over both of their wrists simultaneously and pulling them apart before carefully placing her arms over their shoulders in what might be considered a friendly gesture.

"While I hate to interrupt," she said softly, looking from one to the other. "We have a tree to steal, and if you hinder that task in any way I will see to it that you spend the next five years of your lives in a particular pocket of the Netherworld where you get to relive your worst nightmare over and over again."

She graced them with a sweet smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "So, if you ladies value your lives and your sanity, I suggest that you park whatever this is and move."

The final word thrummed in the force as the darkside swelled in Lina, turning sharp emerald eyes into deep voids of obsidian as she shoved them both forward.

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

OOC: 36+ Hours Elapsed Since Last Opposition

Utu-Gar

The Blazing Chain Fleet "Wrath of Vahl"
Combined Vahlan and Hapan Armada

High Atmosphere Above Coruscant's Surface
​

The suffering of the Core is not yet made complete.

Within the atmosphere of the planet, the Wrath of Vahl began to realize Meliant 's worst fears.

Whilst the battle dragons kept alert for the return of the enemy ships, other cruisers and destroyers and wings of bombers turned their attentions upon the cityscape below. And though they took fire from below, they returned it tenfold.

Lo.

Watch as they saturate the surface with turbolaser fire.

Indiscriminate.
​

Merciless.​

No pretense of morality in their actions. No righteousness save that of the cleansing flame. A sacrifice they wrought unto Vahl, goddess of destruction.

Skyscrapers melted and toppled. Thousands of tons of permacrete and durasteel collapsed upon hardened positions, burying the enemy in flaming rubble rather than rooting them out. Smoke rose in mighty plumes across the cityscape.

Utu-Gar watched and was glad. When the smoke died and the embers burned low, they would pillage whatever remained.

But in the distance, a new threat grew.

Bolts of crimson and obsidian lightning slammed into the city, striking the palace spires and skittering across the dense, boiling plumes of the storm. Each impact sent ripples through the Force, the air thick with pressure and dread, as if Coruscant itself were being weighed and found wanting.

A growing storm expanded from above the palace, engulfing all in black clouds and crimson lightning.

Utu-Gar ground his teeth together, pondering how to deal with this new threat.

St. Thomas Barran

 

[Tyrant 4]

ATMOSPHERE OVER CORUSCANT

"Amidst the blue skies, a link from past to future. The sheltering wings of the protector..."

Engaging: Hall Mannarra
Wingman: Tyrant 1
​

<A miss?>

Ar-Nine whistled an affirmative.

Cypher muttered a curse as she banked around. Suddenly, Ar-Nine squawked an alert. Cypher's yellow eyes snapped to her PK-8f Threat Analysis Grid. <What am I looking at?>

Ar-Nine beeped.

<They what? You're joking.>

Just then the PK-8f went crazy again and her fighter rocked beneath an impact, power indicator on her Slayn & Korpil shield generators dropping by almost a quarter.

<No way,> Cypher grunted, pulling hard in a tight maneuver that took her between two skyscrapers, then straight vertical to one, using it as cover so she could gain altitude.

She couldn't believe they'd made that shot. Absurd. That showed she was getting sloppy. Needed to concentrate. Be more like Emperor. Speaking of...

<Tyrant 1, you done mopping up that AA?>

Then she accelerated her B-wing up and over the skyscraper, pivoting around until she came back in on the enemy armor at a steep angle of attack. She flicked a switch, arming the torpedoes. Ar-Four lit up the tank in her HUD, synching a solid targeting solution. Cypher squeezed the trigger and launched a proton torpedo, then pulled up sharply again and began BFMs.

Suddenly, the sky began to pool black, a storm coming out of nowhere. And it was full of red lightning.

<What the hell?>

 

[Artam Macek]

​

Objective: Shoot Down Enemy Fighters
Location: Fighter Formation Protecting Coruscant l Assisting
Engaging: (Random NPC B-Wing at first) l Tyrant 1 l Tyrant 4

MIGHTY WINGS​

He descended out of the darkness of the night- a jet-black TIE fighter formation screeching overhead. He pulled up on the throttle, rolling just feet away from a skyscraper. He identified enemy fighters, marking them with foe IFF tags. They'd get pinged the same way they would if someone was lasing them anything from a counter-battery. B-Wings, for the most part.

They were celebrating a target-rich environment.

So was Artam.

Silent death peeled off, a B-wing coming into his sights at a forty-five degree. He breathed twice, then inhaled once, and fired. Green bolts screeched against the shields, and sent it out of formation- only breaking their posture, but not getting a kill. He however- flew his TIE right inbetween their formation, twin ion engines sending a healthy amount of vibration, danger, and if they weren't expecting it, hopefully something to the effect of a curse or slur being uttered.

He went just on the edge of the shield, and pulled back on the throttle. TIE fighters- his, a TIE interceptor-like model, jagged and harshly built for one purpose only:

Killing enemy fighters.

Artam turned his head, the throttle pulled harshly back in his hands. He rolled his TIE upside down against the planetary shield, his own shield projecting just inches away from it. He breathed heavy against the G-force put on him planet-side. But didn't falter, and didn't waiver. He positioned himself to re-engage the enemy B-wings from above once more.

He appeared, fast, silently, and deadly. And he was here to fight, protect his troops on the battlefield. Perhaps, a deity heard one of his comrade's cries.

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

TAGS
I'm not so sure my boiz will be needing these any more lol

ABOVE THE GLOBE
(FLEETING)
III

D U S T B O R N

G L A R E

ABOARD THE MV: HEART OF MAR'ZAMBUL, EXITING PLANETARY ORBIT,
CORUSCANT, GALACTIC DEEP CORE (904 ABY)

'W-whut happened?'
'Wake the feth up, Glare! We've got work to do!'
'Wait - I.... I'm alive?'
'HEAD IN THE FETHING GAME, BROTHER!!!! THE HEART IS SCREECHING AT US!!!!'
​

Dustborn was not wrong either, as it became evident before long that there would be problems to solve after they snapped out of their gravity-induced stupors, and though the latter of two concerns would surely take less time than the former, it surely seemed to be the more difficult task with equilibrium and lucidity still slow in returning to their heads by then. It was to their mutually-extensive good fortune that Farnum had tested himself this way before, and far too many times for the Nomad's liking, thus would always be the first to open his eyes after the gravity-pressure petered out, and the first-available operator to run diagnostics on the Heart.

By the time Glare had snapped out from his own stupor, the situation did not look favourable, and certainly not when Dustborn finally got his eyes on the diagnostic results, flashing with colours from the entire warning-spectrum. Shields were downed to recharge for the battle's next barrages, one of the forward-thrusters was totalled, along with most of it's inner-workings. Made worse by wide-reaching cracks from the warping of the shockwave impacts on the upper-decks, and to make matters worse, multiple life-support systems had been shutting down to speed up the shield-generator reboot process, of which, this was usually one of many that Farnum would have cancelled.

That is, if he had been conscious enough to see it at the time.

​

The Mawsworn fleet had taken quite a few losses in the midst of their great gamble, with more than a few perishing to the Crucifix-IIs on the back line, as there would be difficulties in maintaining trajectories with damage to thrusters, engines and the like; even detached stabilizing wings were enough to suffer obliteration by the front-loaded armour plating, suffering to their own supporting destroyers in the midst of their daring, though-tight bombing formation. The Heart's slipstream would only cover so much space for utilisation, and with just the smallest margin of error to go on, this is where the Drudges of the Maw would begin to place their lives in the Hands of Fate, as there was only so much their ilk could achieve under such circumstances.

​

'Feth! The damn shields won't be online for a while yet, even after the gravity conk-out.'
'Just - use orbit again, Brother.'

​

'Not that I have any other option, or at least, none at the moment.... Merry-go-round, it is.', the Nomad quipped in response, sensing that there really was nothing else for it, and seeing the scattering escape-pods on the Holoprojector certainly compounded that fact. But there was no time, no resources, and not enough functionality to act on their behalf, thus the Keshigs, seeking a Tamgga seal apiece, would follow Nomadic intuition in keeping their fleet (more-or-less) intact by the time the fighting was done. Thus, with all the latest developments considered, Farnum knew that patience would carry them that day, even dedicating himself as he declared,'We're not gonna make the mistake of staying static. Not today, not ever.... HIT-AND-RUN, ALL THE KARKING WAY!!!!', setting engines back into motion once more.

'We only get one chance to get this wrong, Farn! What we do, we do in earnest from here on out.'
'Agreed.... Now, man those fethin' weapons-systems! We have some foes to aggravate up here.'

Off they went, and with all the remaining Drudges still following the previous directive, the fleet would continue to operate under the assumption they were following the Heart's lead, still very much relevant in the fleet battle's second phase. Firing wherever their Capital Ship was firing, moving wherever the speartip was moving, and before they knew it, the fleet was finally back on the orbital merry-go-round, dancing with warships as one would with cavalry. For any and all from the Maw's Nomadic caste, such endeavours were the stuff of fantasy, never once considering that two of their own were doing that very same thing their kin could only dream about, living out these aspirations so that the next generation could make their imaginings a reality someday.

​

 

[Severus Barran]

TAGS
Vara Rasha Lilianna L'lerim

SYSTEM SHOCK
III

Y O U N G - L I O N

S H A M A N

​

LENNA TOWERS, IMPERIAL CENTER,
CORUSCANT, DEEP CORE TERRITORIES (904 ABY)

<"Alright, we're ready.">
'Keep an eye on his tac-signals, lots can be said with the hands.... OPSIL until we're in.'
​

Kneeling in the dark, the rescue-squad was suddenly facing an inundation of wind, thunder and rain, Force-Storms of the sort that could only indicate the work of Sith, though none with the young Lion could say for certain which side was responsible. A truth of which Severus knew he would uncover after exfil, though he could not help but look up to the skies above with curiosity, though fortunately his gaze would turn to Raymond eventually, pulling the rims of his sunglasses to rest on his nose in ancipitation of the tactics the Tuath had in mind. Then after sharing a nod of readiness, Serval proceeded to suggest frags in the lower and upper windows on the nearest side's ground and first floors, stating he would breach the door as the others followed in as his second wave of sudden assault.

Then came the signals Barran had been waiting for-

WAIT
WAIT
STAND BY
FRAGS FIRST
THROW - HARD
ON THREE

ONE
TWO
THREE​

'Alright....'

​

As Vara leaped out over their cover, Raymond sprinted out to match her pace, drawing his father's Wasp in one hand, and an old Fragarach pistol in the other. However, what surprised the Protectorate knights was the quickness with which Rasha flung both grenades, seemingly thrown in targeted, domino-falling flow, but none had time to appreciate it; as the Dantooinan would be jumping over cover next, and as soon as the projectiles smashed through their respective windows, this would be the Tuath's cue to lead the muscle and sinew of their first objective. Then after a moment or two, the shattered windows' remnants would be send scattering onto the street, with both explosions detonating just as they had been cast, and in the effort to brace for the sounds of destruction, his own father's Mountainsong had been drawn at the ready by the time the street lit up with a double-flash.

[B-BOOM]
[THUD]
[SPLINTER]​

'Good luck, comrade.'
'HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-'
'Let the games begin.'

​

Chancing one, last-moment breach of operational silence, seeing that it would not matter very much by the time the grenades fulfilled their purpose, the young Lion would herald in their first operation together with friendly encouragement, working to bring the best out of the Harpy as they approached the cusp of mayhem together. After that, Severus and Vara surged into the boot-stomped breach provided by Raymond, running in to join the fray whilst Serval shot and carved a path upstairs for them, stepping beyond the point of no-return with all the vigor expected of their fighting-prime years; beyond every remaining doubt of their merit under fire, beyond all remaining,"Greenhorn", allegations, and both were fully cognicent to the truth that there never had been an option to turn back.

Advancing as their own embodiments of yesteryear's bravest heroes.

 

[Raymond J. Senée]

TAGS
Vara Rasha Lilianna L'lerim

SYSTEM SHOCK
(BYOO)
III

​

CONDOMINIUM BLACKSITE, IMPERIAL CENTER,
CORUSCANT, DEEP CORE TERRITORIES (904 ABY)

'CONTACT-'
'HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!'
'HOLD HIM BACK!!!!'
​

Mayhem had finally erupted, and for the first time in almost a year, Senée could finally let loose again in it's midst, surging forward with a ferocity of which he thought was sure to have become rusty by then. But fortunately for makeshift trio, this would become a matter of,"Absence makes the heart grow fonder.", within moments, and though it would take a moment for his peers to see it for themselves, there would be no doubt as to what kind of man Raymond was. Slicing through armour as if it was mere putty against his Songsteel rapier, even rolling shoulders, ducking and evading incoming vibro-bayonets on the way in, Lilianna's captors would soon see that not even stray blaster trails could stop the Tuath from carving a path for his support.

'WE GOT MORE INBOUND!!!! FIND SOME COVER!!!!'

Slashing, shooting and headbutting through every last assailant who dared to stand in his way, even Raymond himself understood why so many thought it to be nought but unbridled, bloodthirsty abandon, but many who were powerful enough to perceive his best work would see something else entirely. Not that had any bearing on the task at hand, but this would come into play later that day, and in sensing such an event was likely to pass, Serval knew he would need to take it a little easier on their second objective. Even bellowing,'MOVE UP, YOU TWO!!!! GET STUCK IIIIIIN!!!!', so as to assure himself a little break from the priority-pointman role by the time they had gotten Lilianna out, both Severus and Vara would follow up with a severity of their own, beholden to the obligation of forcing a rout.

'We got six flights o' stairs t'climb! LOOK LIVELY!!!!'

​

Most of the armed response had been depopulated within, and with Severus and Vara working back to back to push that offence further, they would be moments away from the stairwell by the time their obstructions routed deeper into the apartment complex. Likely hoping the attackers would not need to venture deeper into the building, they all knew, deep down, that these Protectorate assailants had their particular target-area in mind, and were all informed of the increased chances of a rescue attempt that day; but there was nothing these captors could do about the sudden change in direction, hoping, in the spirit of self-preservation, that the rumours were true about the sixth floor, and that the tier-1 operators they were told about were still up there.

Holding the sixth floor as they would a presidential suite.

​

'FIGHT FOR ALL YOU'RE WORTH - FOR THAT IS WHAT YOUR ENEMIES WILL REMEMBER!!!!'

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

Utu-Gar

The Blazing Chain Fleet "Wrath of Vahl"
Combined Vahlan and Hapan Armada

High Atmosphere Above Coruscant's Surface

Engaging St. Thomas Barran
​

A corvette that did not heed Utu-Gar's warnings drifted too close to the Force Storm below, which had blanketed the entire area around the Imperial Palace. Utu-Gar grimaced as the corvette was torn asunder by the raw energies and lightning of the maelstrom.

"First Captain, the enemy is still drawing back into orbit."

Utu-Gar nodded. "Good."

Past the planetary shield, they would not be able to target the Vahlan and Hapan fleet, which - even with the Force Storm obscuring great swathes of the ecumenopolis below - still pounded the imperial defenses with their cannons.

Off they went, and with all the remaining Drudges still following the previous directive, the fleet would continue to operate under the assumption they were following the Heart's lead, still very much relevant in the fleet battle's second phase. Firing wherever their Capital Ship was firing, moving wherever the speartip was moving, and before they knew it, the fleet was finally back on the orbital merry-go-round, dancing with warships as one would with cavalry

The bulk of the Covenant fleet was in high atmosphere, not tangling with the enemy warships. As they retreated, the Battle Dragons lobbed parting shots their way. The enemy ships appeared intent on repeating yet another orbital circuit.

"Irtul, do you know what they say about trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome?"

"Stubbornness, First Captain?"

"No. Insanity."

 

[Yorunarr of Karidim]

TAGS
Yuri Maji Vara Rasha Lilianna L'lerim

SYSTEM SHOCK
(BYOO)
I

G O D S E E R

D R U I D

​

ISB Prison Entrance, Imperial Center,
Coruscant, Deep Core Territories (904 ABY)

<"So how are you feeling about the ascent with Tancred?">
<"Been checking on the Holo-projector every now and again, should be fine.">
<"You sure, young Druid?">
<"Wildest blips, Mawite. Their moves, placing them far and wide for each pass.">
<"Windows of opportunity, is that what it's come to? Ah, never mind. Godseer out!">
​

Approaching the outer gate with eyebrow raised, the ousted Priest-King of Novania was more than intrigued by what he would find on approach, though the implications were more than reason enough to be on his guard, as the small venture into this ISB Blacksite was sure to have threats hiding in unseen corners. But unfortunately, this would need to take secondary precedence after the meat of his investigation, as it seemed that the blacksite's commander had been putting up a fight in desperate defence of the perimeter, finding far more Covenant corpses than those of Imperial affiliation strewn around the gatehouse; a lion's defence of the sort was not to be scoffed at, but with the prison's hidden horrors considered, inward commendation would stand no chance to a quashing hush of common sense.

'Ah!'

Like a despot's final hours of dominance.
Its uncanny, and more than a little revealing.

What, I wonder, have the ISB hidden within?
​

With more reason than ever to clench teeth, the old Novanian growled as he opened the gate and left the dead behind, as it was then that all his thoughts were invaded with worries for Tancred's survival, followed by a murderous intent for anyone and anything standing in his way. The intent itself was a foul feeling for Yorunarr, as it would rise like bile in his throat, forcing him to swallow his own saliva, almost as if by way of knee-jerk instinct. But the old Shaman welcomed this fuel all the same, as it gave strength to his limbs, grip-control over his hands, and an indomitability that made many a Sith flinch in his prime - that which conquered every foe who dared to stand in his way.

'CHIT!!! CONTACT SOUTH!!!!'

[PYOOooo-]
[CRACK]​

'Where is he?!'

As the old Novanian stepped around the dead, he would find himself suddenly under fire before he could even open out the durasteel gate, but when he opened up, the shooter would be seen retreating farther into the compound at a sprint. Baulking for a moment wordlessly in response, Yorunarr could only shrug it off as he ventured deeper, pushing the entrance doors inward in earnest, and just in the hopes he could blot out the disdain for every ounce of focus he could muster. There were more, and among those were elements far more involved than their scattering subordinates, it was all needed for the coordinators, reserved for those he wanted to scream in agony. The first of whom, strangely enough, had chosen to wield a vibrosword - against Yorunarr's very own Raindancer.

'WHERE IS HE?!?!'
'The Shaman Cometh! Hahaha! I have been waiting for this day, Karidim.... For months, in fact.'

The gaoler would be met with silence, completely unaware that seeing bared steel was all that the old Novanian needed to proceed with murderous intent, and the refusal to answer had certainly further-solidify that intent; after that, and for daring to address the mentor of the very youth the opponent's subordinates had been tormenting, only wild abandon could be offered. Yet, to the officer's credit, he seemed quite fearless, not that such things mattered in single combat, and especially not when finishing blows obliterated all hope of favourable outcome on contact. Thus Yorunarr's opponent, as much as the Godseer was trying to give the agent credit, was doomed from the start, fated for death from the moment he leaned into a fighting stance.

'COMMENCE!!!!'

​

 

[Makko Dres]

TREE HEIST

Makko did not react outwardly when the plan changed.

If anything, the sudden pivot only confirmed what he had already suspected: this mission had been assembled with enthusiasm rather than certainty. That was not a criticism. Madrona A’Mia was many things—brilliant, strange, terrifying in her own quiet way—but Makko did not believe rigid was one of them. She adapted as living things do, bending rather than breaking, and expected her students to do the same.

So Makko adjusted.

He followed when she moved, lengthening his stride to keep pace as they skirted the temple's perimeter. The structure loomed overhead, unfamiliar and wrong, its newer surfaces carrying none of the gravity one would expect from a place so steeped in history. Beneath it all, though… yes. He felt it too. Something old. Rooted. Waiting.

The sounds of battle rolled across the grounds behind them, distant but immense, like thunder heard through layers of stone. Makko did not turn to look. His attention stayed with the group, locked on the walls and walkways. His focus wavered though as emotions flared.

Not his own, someone else’s. Someone on the team.

Makko's gaze flicked briefly toward the disturbance: Kirie and Anet Raine . He was curious but did not linger on it, only noted it and moved on. Attachments had a way of surfacing at the worst times, and the Covenant did not seem the sort handle such things with kindness.

Makko exhaled slowly and refocused.

This was the path forward, both literally and otherwise. Follow the mission. Execute cleanly. Be useful. He had learned, painfully, that success was the only currency that bought leniency. Every completed task put another degree of separation between him and the worst possible futures: chains, pits, obedience enforced by pain rather than expectation. If he proved himself here and helped A'Mia achieve her strange goal, then perhaps his Master's attention would drift elsewhere. Perhaps he would be trusted to act without constant oversight. Perhaps, one day, he would be allowed to choose more than his next step.

For now, that step carried him onward, silent and watchful, into the shadow of the stolen temple and toward the ancient life buried beneath it.

Tags: Anet Raine | Kirie | Madrona A’Mia | Nilira Vornix​