Invasion System Shock: Fear Control | TSC Invasion of GE-held Coruscant Superhex Objective Two

[Lucius Redmond]

Post 4
Angels of the Empire

Tags: Krasskorr the Maw korr The Maw Jas Katis Kesh Hevro Da'Razel Razel Arixa Pazela Arris Windrun @Vexerion Acier Moonbound Mercy Xan Atropus St. Thomas Barran Thomas Barren Alaric de Braose Reiner Ghadi Doctor Afic Otker DT-9197 Jordi Massad Ansisa Lysander von Ascania Varin Mortifer Kesh Hevro Hasuras Na-Gerra


The naval crewman, with naval's universally implimented, in the 3rd anyway, training standards, they immediatly began to fire and retreat. It was a fight they knew they couldn't win. From behind the chair Lucius tapped into his vessel's coms, sending a message echoing though the halls lf the Voidtreader. An incredibly painful message, but necessary, shouting over the wind and blasterfire. A ship was nothing without a bridge, and they wouldn't be taking it back from that behemoth or his fellows. "Scuttle. Repeat. Scuttle.". It filled him with coldness. As the thousands of crew responded to the message, sending it into a flurry of further activity as they prepped detonators on the ammunition dumps and the mechanics overclocked the ship's engines. With a dry throat, hoarse from the winds whipping around them. Lucius switched to the frequency connecting him with the Hysten and Victory. "Voidtreader is scuttling, get out of blast range and prepare to receive survivors." A brief silence, only a second or two followed before two "Aye aye's" could be heard crackling over the communicator.


Lucius and the crew fired and began pulling further back into the now open blastdoors as the reinforcements arrived, a bulwark of Naval Infantry, firing intensely into the now mostly abandoned bridge, over the bodies of friends and foes alike as they make a tactical retreat, keeping fire on them as the rest of the crew rushed to escape pods or otherwise aided in the scuttling. They destroyed the navigation controls on the way out, prompting the SD to lock into it's present course, drifting nicely into the enemy fleet. Not all would make it, but with the position of the Voidtreader, the proximity to enemy vessels, and the loss of the command bridge, it was the decision that needed to be made. The Hysten and Victory had already drifted to near respectable distances, not perfect, but enough to keep serious damage from hitting them as they gunned their engines in the opposite direction, firing into the masses of enemy vessels as escape pods and transports poured out of the SD, some towards the ground, others towards their sister ships, as thousands of men and women fled the now fallen vessel. Lucius threw had thrown himself into the command escape pod as they'd exited the bridge, feeling a disgust in his belly as a doomed master at arms saluted him through his pod's viewport during launch. He wanted to die with them. He didn't want to flee like this, but he knew his death would serve only the enemy and his vessel was already doomed. That was the true burden of the staff officer with a healthy psyche, the shouldering of the weight and faces of dead friends and crew would never leave. A thousand ghosts joined his mind as his pod twisted past plasma fire and into the nearby Hysten's hangar bay with a dozen other pods.

On board the Voidtreader the remaining Infantry and crew fought desperately against the super-human attackers, buying time best they could as the vessel many of them had called home for years driftes into the center of the enemy flotilla. Then, in a brilliant flash and deafening roar the stored munitions of the Voidtreader exploded in unison, sending blue jets of plasma and shrapnel into the enemy vessels and the field below, as the ash and fire had before them. The shockwave and echo would sound off for miles, the flames visible for hundreds of meters above their floating starting position. Those who hadn't made it out in time were evaporated along with those who'd volunteered to stay, a graveyard of heroes. Kindred spirits with the trillions of beings over the years that had given their hearts to a cause and found themselves called to fulfill their promise to it. Both a honor and curse, in equal measure. All would be a loss to those who that cared for them, and the echo of that rippled outward in the force.

Lucius was dragging himself out of the pod when the explosion rocked the Hysten, sending him falling to the deck. Both the Hysten and Victory continued battle as they took in survivors, turbolasers thundering along with the corvettes and frigates into the enemy, continuing their boarding and firing actions. The end of one vessel wasn't the end of the third itself.

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

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

Allies: St. Thomas Barran , Jordi Massad , Redmond , Lee Redmond, Vabaun Redmond , Kesh Hevro

Engaging: Xan Atropus , Vestra Tane, Hasuras Na-Gerra , Lysander von Ascania , Acier Moonbound

Theme

The city stirred at every level as Death's Hand quietly made their way across the ecumenopolis. People fleeing out of fear... soldiers scrambling to mount whatever defense was deemed necessary to keep the planet secure... and through it all, Khamul simply smiled. It had been too long since Death's Hand had a proper fight. Too many years spent hidden away on their homeworld of New Mandalore. But no more...

These Covenant whelps had awaken the mythosaur, and soon they would taste its wrath.

Khamul's comms crackled with the words of the Heathen Saint, prompting him to halt their march, if only for a moment.

<<Copy that, Bloodhound. We will be with you shortly.>>

His hand shot out, pointing toward the distant rallying point. His loyal warriors, comprised of what was once a smattering of different Mandalorian fringe groups, had now become a truly immaculate fighting force. Bred through the fires of battle on planet after planet, all weakness had been drawn from their ranks as salt from a wound. Death Watch, vagrants, Taung, and so many others... all united to answer the call of the Unchained. And now... their newly reformed ranks would once again wreck havoc upon those that dared to oppose their Mand'alor.

Their jetpacks ignited, carrying them into the sky in a sea of smoke and flame, taking them directly to the Heathen Saint and his gathered forces. As they ascended, their smoke and ire would blot out the skies above, their presence now known to all.

Khamul would be the first to land, his large, imposing figure approaching Thomas as the rest of his cadre landed behind him.

"It is a dark day, Thomas..."

He allowed himself a sinister chuckle.

"Just how we like it."

He took his place next to the man, looking across the gathered forces in anticipation of what may come next...

He could only hope it the day would be as bloody as it was dark.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

The ship's outer defenses kicked on not long after they had landed, firing down upon his men. Varin’s gaze shot toward the canon responsible. The massive turret had already gunned down a good bit of his men in the chaos as he reached out his hand with the force, a yell ripped from his throat as he felt its grasp around the base. A guttural growl erupted from him as the smoldering cloak burst into flame off his back. Sparks began to fly from the cracks as he reached his other hand out towards it gripping with the force as well. Slowly he pulled his hands apart, parting the metal slowly like a curtain.

The metallic scream of the turret roared across the sky as Varin’s mouthpiece opened up, a roar leaving his mouth as a massive trike of lightning barreled into the turret's inner workings. Fried and now dead, the gun fell silent. Varin looked at his platoon as he brought up his sword ready to cut open the hull. Suddenly his balance shifted, the ship was listing.

Varin yelled at his men.

“Scuttle!”

He quickly looked around as pods and ships left the star destroyer. He could see the ship next to them. The Victory. He pointed his sword towards the other enemy vessel.

“Move! I want that ship!”

The Nagai platoon ran towards the edge of the ship activating their packs flying towards the next ship. The falling vessel shook beneath his feet as some of his men had fallen off the side, their screams heard for only a moment before they were cut. He activated his comm.

<Gerra, the ship is falling! We are heading to The Victory now!>

His finger came off the comm as the ship rocked and screamed causing Varin to lose his footing. He fell off his feet to his back and began to slide.

“DAMN IT!”

Closer and closer he came to the edge before his gauntleted hand and armored fingers gripped into the metal with a screech. Spark spat around him before his arm jerked, holding his weight in place. He took a harsh breath as he looked down. He watched some of the other ships flying by.

“What would you do Lord Mortifer?”

He spoke to himself before he closed his eyes and let go.

Free falling. The sounds of combat around him, he kept his eyes closed for a moment longer before he opened them, the iris of his normal eye now a fiery crimson as he let out another yell before he landed on an imperial fighter class ship. He gripped the cockpits hull eyes glaring into the pilot.

“What the hell! He’s on me! He’s on me!”

Varin pulled out his mace and slammed it on the glass.

Once

Twice

Cracks developed as the pilot tried to reach for his blaster pistol in a panic. Varin let out another yell as the mace crushed the glass And his finger gripped the pilot's neck. The pilot screamed as the wind whipped around him. Varin did not say anything to him as the pilot screamed in his comms

“He broke it! He shattered the windshield! Hel-”

His comms fizzled dead as Varin threw him from the craft ripping him out of his belts and locks. He jammed his hand in the cockpit and began steering the ship towards The Victory. His aim was towards the wind shield of the star destroyer.

Allies: Hasuras Na-Gerra | Lysander von Ascania | Ansisa | Acier Moonbound | Xan Atropus | Arixa Pazela | Darth Amaymon

Foes: St. Thomas Barran | Kesh Hevro | Jas Katis | Jordi Massad | Tamna Korvan​

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

If you had not sinned so greatly,
Vahl would not have set a scourge like me upon you.

THE SKIES ABOVE THE ISB HEADQUARTERS
ABOARD THE DYING STAR DESTROYER "VOIDTREADER"

Varin Mortifer Lucius Redmond
​

The blaster bolt pinged off the gleaming golden chestplate Gerra wore. He glanced down at the charr left behind, then back up, but the enemy commander was already pulling behind the blast door.

If Gerra had any doubts as to the actions of his enemy within the Star Destroyer, the words blaring over the loudspeaker dispelled them. They were scuttling the ship.

So be it.

Another notch upon his belt.

They destroyed the navigation controls on the way out, prompting the SD to lock into it's present course, drifting nicely into the enemy fleet.

The enemy destroyed all their navigational controls on abandoning their vessel. And what's more, Gerra had come to the ISB Head Quarters with the Scorn alone.

The bulk of the fleet was distant and busy engaging the forces of the Maw. He could feel them in his mind, the threads of battle coordination thinly managed, his attention diverted by this combat.

"This vessel is useless to us. Seek another."

Gerra and his Vahlan pirates leaped out of the bridge and back onto the hull.

The beleaguered Scorn, scarce a two hundred meter long vessel, shot nearly to pieces and vastly outnumbered by the enemy guns - surviving only this long on account of its cloaking, had disgorged its entire complement of shuttles, starfighters, and bombers. Set upon by both the Hysten and the Victory, it could not survive long.

<Gerra, the ship is falling! We are heading to The Victory now!>

"Then it falls. I shall take the other."

One of the Vahlan shuttles swooped low, ramp lowering, and Gerra and a cohort of Vahlan warriors leaped into it - the rest would have to find their own way down.

"Don't lower the ramp," Gerra roared, pointing with this sword, "To that ship."

He pointed to where he felt the enemy had fled and the shuttle at once bore them toward the Hysten.

Behind them, the Voidtreader barely reached the outer pickets of the gathered Blazing Chain ships before detonating, taking a handful of pirate freighters and a Nova-class cruiser with it.

The air was alight with laser cannons and missiles and spraying debris. As they passed the Scorn a round from a hypervelocity cannon on the surface smote it betwixt bows and a great explosion bloomed within the destroyer. It listed to one side, leaking enormous columns of black smoke.

As they neared the Hysten a sudden spurt of quadlaser fire punched through their shield and tore into the right wing, sending them on a collision course. Gerra leaped free, more than a dozen of his warriors following his lead, as the shuttle went spinning into a barely guided landing that left debris streaked across the hull of the Hysten. Clambering and scraping across the hull, Gerra made his way to the bridge viewport, heart brimming with unsated blood lust and fury. He was the wildfire. And it had but one trick: burn.

He smote upon the transparisteel of this bridge's viewport with his fist, gauntlet smashing once, twice.

"KEEP RUNNING, DOGS.

YOU WILL JUST DIE TIRED." ​

Glass cracked. Metal buckled.

And for the second time that day, Gerra boarded the bridge of an Imperial Star Destroyer.

 

[Yuri Maji]

CORUSCANT | IMPERIAL CENTER
ALLIES: GE | IMPAF | Severus Barran | Raymond J. Senée | Vara Rasha
ENEMIES: TSC | Acier Moonbound | Gillem
ENGAGING: Acier Moonbound | Gillem
GEAR: In bio

OOC NOTE: Reposting due to a miscommunication regarding objective 1. Changing location to Objective 2.

MY FIRE​

'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.'

'But if you survive, as I hope you will, I know we can avert the heartache - an' all the grief implied.'

Yuri glared at the man with annoyance, he knew exactly what the Tuath was implying, but he didn’t say anything in argument. The bottle of tihaar was snatched for a long swig before Yuri gave it back to its owner. He was going to need the liquid courage for this mess… ironically, not for the fighting ahead.

Despite his annoyance and anger, the whole situation still spun in Yuri’s head. The Emperor was obvious, ISB headquarters as well. But these Sith weren’t like the Sith in the southern reaches of the galaxy, and they didn’t have the fanatical hordes of the Mawites from decades ago.

There had to be something else…

Yuri prepared to leave, but Raymond called his attention back before the Hound could go.

'Callsign's,"Serval", an' though I'll be puttin' in work on the rescues, my ear is standing by.'

”Callsign’s ‘Vandal’... Don’t worry about me. Worry about what the hell you guys’ comrades and the Sith are planning.” He warned, turning to leave the group to their own mission. A shake of the shoulder was given to Sev as Yuri passed, but he paused for a beat as he passed Vara.

For a brief moment, his eyes softened with concern, with fear for her. But it hardened just as quickly as he raised a finger in warning to her. No words came to mind, at least none that felt fitting.

Once outside, the Hound slid his helmet on, checked his guns and activated his jetpack to blast off into the torrential skies of Coruscant.

The Hound was wholly underequipped for a fight like this, luckily he had his Basilisk flying overhead to scan the carnage and keep the odd fighter off his tail. But all of his big guns were with his freighter on the other side of the district.

No, he had to make do with what he had. The biggest issue was the last bit that tugged at his mind. What the hell were the Sith planning? How would they bleed the Imperial beast? There were no grand weapons on display, or overwhelming hordes to burn the planet.

He needed to figure it out, but until then he had to try and keep the people safe and help his friends as much as he could. As he zipped around the skylanes in search of something out of place, he spotted a strange engagement in the distance.

A Sith gunship pursued by an Imperial fighter. What made the sight incredibly strange was the appearance of a lightsaber slashing through the fighter. A blue lightsaber… What could the odds be?

Yuri moved closer just as the stranger leapt from the fighter’s falling wreckage to land on an airspeeder trying to flee the scene. Sure enough, he recognized the figure perched atop the rear of the speeder. With a growl he trailed after the speeder and let his HUD line up before he closed in. He didn’t have much in the way of long range equipment that was non-lethal… but he did have an idea.

Dropping low beneath the speeder, Yuri caught up and zoomed up to pass the speeder and fired his grappling line at the kid to yank him off in the ascent. Not wasting any time, he closed in to pursue the kid.

 

[Hasuras Na-Amoun]

​

Location: Federal District - Imperial Palace - Control Room
Attn: Hasuras Na-Gerra
CC: Lucius Redmond Khamul Kryze St. Thomas Barran Mercy Srina Talon Arris Windrun

Planetary Shield Generator: Online | Imperial Palace: Breached - Under Siege | Hypervelocity Cannons: Holding Fire​

Meliant's attention had once again returned to the Scorn, which still lingered like a vulture over the Imperial Security Bureau. He leaned forward over the holo-table when a hypervelocity round struck it, and the phantom vessel began to list perilously.

Capital ships were crashing all throughout the Federal District. Redmond had scuttled his, and another had fallen quite near the Imperial Palace.

And yet…

"I no longer sense him aboard," Meliant muttered. "He is…"

Guided by the Force, Meliant pointed at the new star destroyer Gerra had boarded. The profile and cloaked status of the sabaoth made it difficult to get a kill shot. But an Imperial Star Destroyer.

"There. Reorient. Target the bridge."

The volley fire of the hypervelocity cannons suddenly ceased. They rotated in their emplacements, slowly coming around to put their new target in their sights.

As Meliant observed, a shadow fell over him. He felt it weigh on his back like a mountain of cold iron. Oh, how he had attempted to ignore the false memory of his father. It seemed that would no longer work.

"How many years ago now, Amoun," Hasuras na-Hasparon's voice was like the soft, distant fire of mass drivers, "Did you flee my host? A decade or more. And yet a treacherous, dissembling thing you remain."

"Please, please, fuck off."

Hasparon only laughed at him. "When I first learned of your apostasy, your desertion, I assembled a mighty fleet. I intended to sail to the dusty worlds of those tomb knights. I would have pulled their temples apart, brick by brick, emptied the coffins and crushed the bones of their revered. How your actions dishonored me…"

Meliant, or Amoun, really, was tightly gripping the edges of the table, watching intently as the hypervelocity cannons continued their slow grind into their new firing positions.

"Empty threats," he snapped back. "Why not then? Why didn't you?"

He was not looking at Hasparon, but he still heard the smile in his voice when he answered, "For your brother. Gerra."

Something icy twisted at Amoun's hollow core. Unfamiliar. Undesired.

"What?"

"He said I ought to let you win your spurs. An ill-spirited dog like you must be given a long leash, that it may struggle and starve on its own. Then it will return home, more appreciative of its master."

Amoun had nothing to say to that for some time. "He was always your favorite."

"Perhaps he might not have been, if you had bothered to contend." Hasparon scoffed. "Gerra gave me wise counsel. But he spoke from sentiment. I would have done better to ignore him."

There was a brief pause. Amoun could sense his father casting his molten gaze about the room, taking in the little industries of the creatures therein.

"It would have averted another disgraceful treachery. It would have averted this impending one, too, that you have made yourself architect of."

The hypervelocity cannons came to a halt. They adjusted their angles slowly, settling their scopes on the star destroyer. Something churned in Amoun's guts. Guts he did not have and had not possessed for quite some time.

What manner of sensation was this? Some emotion other than cruel spite and lust? He felt again like he would vomit, but that was impossible. There would be no relief without action. Amoun struck the table with his fist in frustration and rattled the whole thing.

"Order the cannons to hold their fire."

Anything to make it go away. Make it stop. The command center staff complied. The cannons did not fire. There was silence for a while, but Hasparon was not finished.

"Ah. Feeble and irresolute, even in your hatred. You have, and have only ever had, the jealous ambition of a slave."

The tearing at Amoun's guts had subsided for now. "There never was any pleasing you."

"Not in your manner. No."

The weight of Hasparon's presence slowly drained from the room, and he was heard no more. Amoun groaned silently to himself and cycled the view of the holo-table to the palace interior.

Sith Covenant forces were raging within. His own soldiers were finally being engaged as the ranks of the cultists and royal guard dwindled. There were still a few pockets of them, waiting or hiding in defiance. They would be dealt with.

Mercy and her allies were carving a terrible path.

The time would soon be hard at hand.

PREVIOUS POST | NEXT POST​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Coruscant - Imperial City

Equipment:
Acolyte Robes | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm | RazBohan high-encryption comlink | MicroThrust computer spike

OPP: Yuri Maji
COMMS: Arris Windrun​

There was the feeling again. The Force tugged and vibrated aggressively - a warning. Then, he felt something catch him across the torso and in seconds, he was lurched into the sky again.

Ace let out a short, irritated breath as the ascent snapped his body hard. He twisted just enough to see who was on the other end of the line, jetpack flaring as the figure reeled him in with practiced efficiency.

"You've got to be kidding me."

That same Mandalorian from Nar Shaddaa. Apparently he seemed to have a knack for getting in the way. Annoyance flared as the line dragged him higher.

That grappling line was sure to be resistant to lightsabers. He'd spent enough time around Mandalorians to know better than to fight their tools head on. Roon had been long weeks of pain, recovery, and learning. But he'd learned enough about his own people that a single Mandalorian wouldn't trouble him.

Ace brought his lightsaber to life in a snap-hiss of blue and slashed for the line, sparks skittering uselessly as the blade glanced off instead of cutting through. However, the strike managed to loosen the line enough for Ace to free himself.

For half a second there was nothing but air and gravity, and he thrust both hands forward. The Force detonated outward telekinetic blast, a concussive wave hurled straight up, tearing through the skylane and toward Yuri. Speeders rocked violently, one craft spun sideways, another clipped a divider and showered sparks as it scraped along the lane. Coruscant's skyways dissolved into sudden, chaotic motion

He knew it wouldn't stop Yuri, not for long, but it'd buy him some time. The wind swallowed Ace again as he fell. He rolled his body, eyes scanning fast, calculating lanes and movement until he spotted a speeder bike. Automated patrol droid at the controls.

Ace angled himself, timing the drop to the second, then hit the bike hard, boots slamming into the chassis as he ripped the droid free in one smooth motion and sent it tumbling into the traffic below.

He swung into the saddle and punched the throttle. The speeder bike screamed forward, diving toward the ISB headquarters as Ace stabilized it. He didn't look back. He knew Yuri would follow. Like a dog with a bone.

Ace flicked his wrist and brought his comm online as the skyline blurred past.

"Windrun." He said calmly, irritation threading his voice. "There's gonna be a delay. Ran into an old problem. Annoyance at best."​

 

[Vexorion]

​

[]

Edmund Kemper - SKYND

​

Location: The Undercity (Exited) - Sub. District 6 - Imperial City, Coruscant
Tag: St. Thomas Barran ... Redmond ... Others

Bianca moved like a storm in human form, her lightsaber igniting with a shriek that cut through the night air and drew the gaze of those who still dared to watch. She was the aggressor, her every step a challenge, her strikes driven by a desperate fury that made the very ground seem to tremble. She took the fight to Vexorion with relentless intensity, pressing him, testing him, as if she could carve her truth into his defense.

Vexorion met her on the street with a calm that felt almost ceremonial, his blade a steady line of shadow against her burning light. He played defense with a patient grace, deflecting her blows with an ease that suggested he had already foreseen each one, his movements precise and unhurried. In the way he held his ground, there was a strange pride; pride in the fact that she did listen, having paid attention to his words and his warnings.

Her aggression, once wild and unfocused, had sharpened into something disciplined, and he was pleased by the evidence of her growth.

Their duel drew the night in tight circles around them, the clang of their blades echoing off the stone and metal of the city like a funeral bell. Bianca's strikes grew more desperate as she searched for a weakness, her breath ragged, her mind consumed by the need to end it. Vexorion remained unbroken, a dark statue in motion, waiting for her to expose herself.

And when she finally did, when her attention wavered for a heartbeat, he struck. Not with the lightsaber she expected, but with one of his hidden lightsaber daggers that flashed from his sleeve like a fang from the dark. Before she could react, his tail, coiled like a living chain, wrapped around her leg, yanking her off balance and pulling her into the fatal arc of his blade.

She fell with a gasp, the world tilting as the light of her saber flickered and died, and the street seemed to close in around them, swallowing the sound of her final breath. Vexorion knelt beside her, the night pressing in like a shroud, and removed his mask briefly to reveal the hideous features he had kept hidden from the world; scarred flesh, hollow eyes, a face that seemed carved from pain.

Not for horror effects, but she earned the right to see the cat behind the mask.

His voice was low and solemn as he offered a prayer, a twisted act of atonement for the one he had killed: his student, his only possible friend. He spoke it as if it were both confession and absolution, and as Bianca's eyes faded, he whispered the cruel final truth, "Sleep peacefully little Sith."

​

Spoiler: Loadout

Weapons

• Whisperer {Lightsaber}
• Lightsaber Daggers
• TC-13 "Skulkers"

Ship

• The Apparition

Droids

• TC-66 "Stalkers"

 

[Darth Amaymon]

​

FEAR CONTROL
LOCATION: Coruscant
OBJECTIVE II: ISB HEADQUATERS

​

How many times had he witnessed Coruscant change like the seasons? It felt innumerable. While the Sith Covenant descended in waves with its forces apon the upper skyline of Coruscants wretched hive of imperial activity, there was one that stayed behind, uncharacteristic for those that knew of the Lord of Hatred and that was exactly the problem.

Forgotten. Invoked only in myth and legends. Since the time of his recorded death, the majority of the known galaxy had done well to all but erase his history. This was especially true of the Imperials. Much like the Sith of recent years their Empires had grown far too rigid and what did not flex would break with time and pressure. How much more would that same influence, no, the same pattern flow into the lives of its citizens and inhabitants. How much had its tentacles gained a strangle hold on the Sith as well.

The time had come and pressure was surmounting. A sulfuric gaze was downcast toward the chaos below, adjacent to a juggernaut adorned in alchemical armor that shined like obsidian. Apon the titans back rested a sith sword of immense stature, one perhaps to large to be carried by a standard humanoid and irradiated volatile energies. With a swift draw the Rancidus Edge was drawn and its wretched powers bolted into the behemoth wielding it. Surging through the being that was Darth Amaymon like a violent gale.

Then leaning forward gravity took the Lord of Hatred. Falling into the battle from the hangar of his a Covenant corvette like some sort of mad god! Grunts and groans sounded aloud in attempts to restrain the collective Dark Rage that was inflicted apon him. Its embrace was a rapture that could not be fought off for long. Perception became a blur of motion and sensory. The battlefield below rose up to meet him and with a forceful exertion of the force, a telekinetic blast slowed his fall enough to cause the Lord of Hatred to fissure the duracrete below. Lifting off from one knee and rising to his full height, a practical nine foot tall armored monstrosity, he blitzed into action! Bull rushing into the front lines and cleaving through swathes of stormtroopers! By no means was his assualt directly toward the ISB Headquaters subtle, Amaymons very presence invited challenge and would evoke greater force used.

ENGAGING: Vabaun Redmond Lucius Redmond @Whoever else • ALLIES: Acier Moonbound Varin Mortifer Hasuras Na-Gerra Xan Atropus Lysander von Ascania Ansisa ​

 

[Ansisa]

Tag: Direct: Hasuras Na-Gerra Lysander von Ascania Varin Mortifer

TSC: Acier Moonbound Xan Atropus Vestra Tane Darth Amaymon
Arixa Pazela


GE: Jordi Massad St. Thomas Barran Tamna Korvan Kesh Hevro Jas Katis ​

As the ground drew closer, the air began to tighten with shrapnel from shattered drop pods, slugs from anti air emplacements peppered the sky. Smoke and fire billowed in the wind, the very air she breathed was toxic. A flash of muzzles forced her to draw her lightsaber, revealing her presence once more. the crimson blade blurred casting aside the bolts that came her way.

Ansisa slammed into the duracrete, the shock rippling up her legs before she pushed it back down, forcing the energy forward. Duracrete rippled unnaturally, cracking and splitting before the blast erupted outwards, screams followed it, mines thrown into the air raining back onto those who had lain them. Crimson eyes set on the main entrance set behind enemy lines and she clicked her tongue in annoyance.

A step forward and she was no longer there, appearing instead beside Lysander, her blade flashing once to cast another bolt aside.

"Give me two Acolytes, I can bring them behind their lines."

It wasn't a request.

​

 

[Ivory]

DIRECT ALLIES: Lysander von Ascania | Ansisa | Darth Amaymon

OTHER ALLIES: Hasuras Na-Gerra | Varin Mortifer | Acier Moonbound | Xan Atropus | Arixa Pazela

Ivory landed near the others and was about to respond to Ansisa when a giant hulking monster dropped near them.

She knew, factually, that Amaymon was on their side.

But facts had little bearing to the slight shiver running down her spine as the Sith dashed away. Smashing into the defense structures and trenches that split the area in front of the ISB HQ into separate zones. The monster (sentient, she knew, again factually) slapped and smashed stormtroopers and other army personnel aside as if they were mere playthings.

"Look at him go." Ivory said quietly, eyes widened just a fraction before she blinked and glanced towards Ansisa.

"You think we need stealth after that?" Pointing towards the red monster that had left them an obvious path forward. "Well, I don't mind, take any two you wish."

Gesturing towards the gaggle of acolytes that had joined them.

Some had to puke their guts out- either from fear or maybe from the initial drop. Ivory wasn't sure which, but it told her this particular crop of Acolytes had little of what true Sith needed. "Well, I am going to take advantage, friends, see you on the other side." Then she pulled her sword out. The side of it was dark, any light that was still around seemingly vanishing into the obsidian material.

She was about to follow Amaymon but then-

Some of the previously sapped electricity suddenly surged back into a couple of key towers which were very visible from the ISB HQ. Numerous billboards and advert screens flared to life once more, all of them flashing a variety of a few hand selected images. These images depicted the unquestionable brutality of Imperial forces against civilians.

High upon dozens of skyscrapers there was now a rotating display of Imperial sins against citizenry, fabricated or otherwise. Who could really tell in the heat of it all? Riffraff had also taken the liberty of co-opting a very popular youth resistance logo which watermarked a few of the images. Over various crackling loudspeakers, PA systems, and public broadcast stations, one simple message rang out in the voice of many, repeated over and over:

"RISE UP! RESIST!"​

Ivory whistled as she saw the handiwork of their team in the other levels of Coruscant. Over and over again, the footage confirmed something that many civilians on Coruscant already knew: the Sith were evil, but they were at least honest about it. The Imperials on the other hand constantly tried to pretend they were better than the feral animals they were.

Some would disregard it, of course. They'd pick up arms and they'd fight against the Sith incursion. Evil was evil after all. But there would be many... who would doubt.

Why get in the middle of this conflict? If either side was horrible, terrible, then wasn't it best to simply... stay home? Stay with your family. Enjoy your peace and safety.

Then there would be a hardened core of loyalists. Who had been waiting since the days of the One Sith's rule over Coruscant. Who were pulling knives and hammers out of their cabinets. And who hungered for a return to the old days of the Dark Lord. That was the core this footage and the accompanying message wished to reach. Get them up on their feet, promise them... that their masters were back and that all they needed to do was kill and slaughter any Imperial outside.

She shook her head and finally her frame blurred out of sight. Sprinting after the damage done by Amaymon. Her sword swished out, every once in a while, stabbing a soldier when it seemed they were getting in her way.

It was easy now- Ivory didn't need to circumvent any defenses. Amaymon had paved the way for them. It wouldn't be enough to allow the Covenant forces pour through... yet.

But as Ivory reached the other side, past the fortifications, and slipped against the wall of the ISB HQ, she knew that would change.

They'd win the day.

Now she only had to wait for Lysander and the others to arrive, so they could breach the building proper.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

The nagai platoon began making their way towards the star destroyer known as The Victory, their packs carrying them with decent speed. Varin, now rogue flying a fighter class ship, was faster. Once again leading the charge where he was supposed to be with his platoon. His grip tightened on the flight sticks, a creak straining from the ship itself as it smoked and smoldered around him. The intensity of his body heat scalding the metal, blackening the paint. A yell left his throat as he neared the view port of the massive ship. Avoiding the deck for now, he had plans for that.

"Then it falls. I shall take the other."

Varin toggled his comms once again.

"As you wish."

The ship was getting dangerously close as Varin hunched forward, the wind whipping past him trying to knock him off, trying to alter the course of a force of nature, barreling to the impendingly doomed ship. These soldiers had no idea what was coming for them. They were but cattle unaware that a meat grinder was within their sights.

Cannons fired in his direction, some of the projectiles slamming into the ship knocking out its thruster. His glaring gaze fell to the turbine behind him, sputtering, smoking, dying. A harsh low grunt left him as he stretched his hand towards the destroyer, using the force almost like a lash he gripped the hull and slung himself toward the ship bay, tearing into the opening in a smoking fiery inferno, his armored boots carved through the metal floor spitting up sparks as he slid across towards a handful of maintenance crew.

He drew his sword in one quick motion, the blade carved through the first man, a spray of crimson blinding the other two as his free hand gripped one face, using the momentum he slammed, with full force, the engineers head into the metallic wall with a wet crunch. His twitching body fell to the floor as he slowly turned to the final man, pointing his sword to him.

“You…”

He stepped closer, the man backing up to draw his blaster pistol. Varin’s hand stretched out flexing his fist crushing every bone in the man’s hand. The scream that left his throat reached every wall in the shipping bay, the blaster sparked and crumpled to the floor.

“You will be of use to me.”

A short time later the Nagai platoon finally breached the shipping bay doors, taking positions as Varin walked towards them with their hostage now turned guide.

“Keep him alive. He will be helping us with our mission.”

The nagai soldier looked at Varin and gave him a nod.

“Whats the next step, sir?”

Varin looked towards the doors that lead deeper into the ship.

“We claim the ship. We claim its defenses, and force them to fire on their own. We will be targeting the ISB headquarters.”

He opened up his comms to Na-Gerra, Lysander and Ansisa.

<This is Varin. I have breached The Victory. Lysander, Ansisa; how long do you need to reach what you can from the base?>

He waited for their reply as the Nagai force began setting up breach equipment and heavier weapons.

“Perhaps I am cut out for piracy.”

He smirked to himself.

Allies: Hasuras Na-Gerra | Lysander von Ascania | Ansisa | Acier Moonbound | Xan Atropus | Arixa Pazela | Darth Amaymon

Foes: St. Thomas Barran | Kesh Hevro | Jas Katis | Jordi Massad | Tamna Korvan​

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

If you had not sinned so greatly,
Vahl would not have set a scourge like me upon you.

THE SKIES ABOVE THE ISB HEADQUARTERS
ABOARD THE STAR DESTROYER "HYSTEN"

Varin Mortifer Ansisa Lysander von Ascania

Enemies: Khamul Kryze | St. Thomas Barran
​

The fighting aboard the Hysten is ferocious and brutal, but the imperials are armed only with their faith. And the Vahlan Sith wielded the Dark Side of Vahl itself. Through force of arms, though not without losses, the pirates took control of the bridge of the Star Destroyer, then systematically began to shut off life support whilst deploying all manner of vile tactics.

They gassed those within the Star Destroyer with nerve agents, tossing the chemical grenades into the air recyclers so that it flooded the ship. Leaving the imperials to choke to death on their own spittle.

There would be some who survived, managing to acquire respirators or flush the gas away. They would be dealt with.

The survivors from the limping, half-sundered Scorn made their way aboard the Hysten in droves. Gerra's first task was acquiring tactical control over the Star Destroyer's gun batteries and he expected them to come online in short order.

Amid the corpses and carnage, Gerra stood upon the bridge of the Hysten and closed his eyes, fully giving himself over to the Battle Coordination he began earlier. His senses quested out across the battlefield in all of its dimensions, both above and below. He could feel the combat between fleets as it drew toward its inevitable midway, eliciting a sneer and a spark of annoyance from the warlord.

His attention delved deep beneath the surface, where he felt the workings of the Covenant's agents. Their efforts blared over loudspeakers even now.

Over various crackling loudspeakers, PA systems, and public broadcast stations, one simple message rang out in the voice of many, repeated over and over:

"RISE UP! RESIST!"​

Attention rising up to just below the Star Destroyers Hysten and Victory, he could feel the powerful presences of the Khan of the Maw and another, whom he had felt before at the Conclave. Yet still they waited, not yet engaging Lysander or Ansisa as those two sought to carry out the Covenant's objective and obtain the data from within the ISB Headquarters. So too did he feel the presence of the powerful warrior Darth Amaymon , who was as yet fresh and unopposed by the enemy.

Varin's voice came across the communications line. Rather than replying in kind, Gerra answered through the Force. His mind touching each of the three warriors who were once aboard his ship.

"And I have the Hysten. Their resolve will soon crumble. Watch."

Suddenly, an oppressive presence sought to intrude upon his mind and those of all his warriors. Gerra's attention whipped to the palace.

Above, the Imperial lines solidified. The wavering soldiers didn't find courage; they found a paralyzing, fanatical dread that forced them forward. They fought like automatons, driven by the suffocating presence of their Galactic Emperor manifested in their minds.

Before he found the source of the intrusion, the sky overhead became suddenly black as pitch and threaded with crimson lightning. A gathering Force Storm. Gerra pressed upon the minds of his ship captains to move out of reach of the growing storm lest they be caught within it.

Who wielded this power? He stretched out in his mind's eye, searching across the battleground of the palace. The oppressive presence that had sought to intrude upon his mind gave way, inch by inch, as he felt Quinn Varanin somehow feasting upon it. Ahh. He could sense her now. The new Queen of Eshan. She ran wild with raw power in the Force.

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.

And the Star-Arm strengthened that power, wielding the storm to her own ends, ever canny.

Then the second, bolts of crimson obsidian-flecked lightning slammed into the palace spires. Each impact sent ripples through the Force, the air thick with pressure and dread, as if Coruscant itself were being weighed and found wanting.

Still, the imperials fought on for their emperor. Savage and unrelenting at the seat of his power.

His flank belonged to Krasskorr the Maw Krasskorr the Maw and the Dark Side Elite, and he surrendered no thought to doubt. The Saurton would clash with Srina Talon Srina Talon would meet her winter with his own brand of savagery, and the Elite would ensure the line did not crumble.

But Gerra felt the might of the Empress of the Sith and of the Iron Tyrant called Carnifex. Those two could not be resisted, implacable in their assault. The very palace might crumble beneath their efforts.

Cold detonated outward in a violent surge, the temperature collapsing so fast that the foundation of the Imperial Palace gave an audible crack.

Where had that intrusion into his thoughts come from? Who sought to wield such power against him and his? He searched closer still within the palace, presence roving through the hallways until he came across a forlorn Sith... and his brother.

Eurydice slumped against the corridor's wall while clutching her head.

Gerra's voice boomed in the minds of both. Hasuras Na-Amoun .

"Hasuras na-Amoun. Brother. When will the lost wolf return? When will thy ember became the roaring flame?"

​

​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Armor | Helm | Sword
​

Allies: Ivory Ansisa Darth Amaymon Hasuras Na-Gerra Xan Atropus Arixa Pazela Acier Moonbound
Foe: St. Thomas Barran Kesh Hevro Jas Katis Jordi Massad Tamna Korvan

Open

There were acolytes, knights, and one that could even be labeled as a crimson behemoth, an entity of death.. truly. In that moment, the distinctions between them felt meaningless. For they shared one purpose in a way that unified them.. rather than fracturing them with different priorities. From the outside, one might believe Lysander was cavorting with killers, but such was the way of life in the Covenant lately.. a waltz of death and power.

As his hands continued lifting, fingers spread, elbows bent just enough to keep the joint from locking. Beneath the helm, he breathed through the nose slowly, as the fire prepared to answer. Heat bloomed along the palms. The Dark began to rise with it, ever eager and indulgent, but he kept it leashed for a moment longer.

Then the fire answered, flames rolling outward in waves. They skimmed the ground, and climbed into the trenches like liquid daylight, devouring shadow by shadow. And through the thunder of mortars and the heavy blasters, screams cut through the air. The Dark purred in agreement.

[[Those babysitting our key terminals, sit tight, eyes up. Engineers or worse'll be showin up soon enough to get their grimy mitts on 'em. Can't let that fly, got it? Anyone outside ISB Headquarters, you're about t' get a show.]]

Acknowledged.

Upon the Chiss' sudden command, his jaw tightened, but emerald rings underneath the visor slid away regardless, already choosing.

His body turned slightly. “..You,” Lysander barked. “And you.”

One had just deflected a bolt by turning his red saber, stepping backward; the other, having just vanquished his foe, also drew closer. He angled back to Ansisa. “Bring them back alive,” came dryly. “I hate paperwork.”

Chances were the ones higher up didn’t even know their names, nor cared to.

From there, he glanced toward Ivory as she arrived. “I’ll be there shortly,” the voice carried smoothly. “After this little.. cleanup.”

It wasn’t that he distrusted the other acolytes. Well, that thought didn’t survive long. He didn’t trust all of them.. experience had taught him better than faith. Best to make sure the work was done and nothing rose from behind.

The comms cackled again, this time with a familiar voice, as he returned to the trenches, scanning for whatever may be left.

<This is Varin. I have breached The Victory. Lysander, Ansisa; how long do you need to reach what you can from the base?>

<Brother. We'll need a little more time. I'll call it once we've taken what we need.. just wait for my signal.>

The skies above Coruscant collapsed into darkness. Clouds folded in on themselves, spiraling into a vast, roiling wound in the atmosphere as thunder tore through the city like a scream. Lightning churned within the storm's core — not white, but bruised red and void-black — illuminating shapes that should not have existed.

So this was the next escalation. Coruscant was far different from the world he had known in his Padawan years.

The dying heavens tore themselves open, red and black lightning crawling through the wounds. Fingers of his dominant hand found the hilt of Nightstar, curling around the weapon with fondness. Drawing it free, it became clear that any outsider wishing to enter the ISB HQ from this point forward, would have to pass through Lysander first.

<Keep the channel open and feed me updates from inside. I'll adapt as needed.>

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Coruscant - Imperial City

Equipment:
Acolyte Robes | Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm | RazBohan high-encryption comlink | MicroThrust computer spike

OPP: Yuri Maji​

COMMS: Arris Windrun​

The speeder bike screamed as Ace banked hard through the collapsing lanes, traffic thinning the closer he got to the Federal District. He risked a glance over his shoulder and there was nothing. No jetpack plume. No Mandalorian silhouette cutting through the chaos.​

​

He was sure Yuri hadn't disengaged permanently. But for now, the hunt had paused, and that meant one thing. Time.​

​

The sky ahead answered first. Darkness folded in on itself above Coruscant's skyline, clouds spiraling inward like a wound being torn open. Thunder rolled, a scream of pressure that rattled his teeth. Lightning churned within the storm's heart, an unnatural red and void black, illuminating shapes that twisted and vanished.​

​

Ace slowed instinctively, eyes tracking the phenomenon as the Force crawled uneasily along his spine. Someone ( Quinn Varanin ) was pulling hard, crushing Coruscant from above.​

​

The ISB Headquarters came into view beneath the storm's shadow. The outer defenses were already in shambles. Trenches torn open. Barricades shattered and half-melted. Imperial lines still held in places, but it was desperate now... patchwork resistance.​

​

Ace ditched the bike hard, letting it skid and spark into cover as he dropped the last few meters to the ground. Blaster fire stitched the air immediately, red bolts snapping past his shoulders as stormtroopers scrambled to react.​

​

He ignited his lightsaber and stepped forward into the fire. The first wave didn't stand a chance. Ace cut through them with vicious efficiency, blade carving wide, brutal arcs that sent armor and bodies flying. He didn't finesse it. Didn't bother conserving motion​

​

Anger surged, every frustration he'd been holding back since Tapani, igniting all at once. And the Dark side answered eagerly. He hurled it outward in concussive bursts, ripping troopers off their feet, slamming them into walls, crushing cover meant to protect them.​

​

A raised barricade folded inward under invisible pressure, buckling like cheap metal before detonating in a cloud of shrapnel. Ace moved through it like a storm of his own, jaw clenched, eyes cold. He was thinking about the Empire's first attack on Coruscant, Atrisia and the Death Star, Chandrila. Then the Covenant and its massacre through Tapani.​

​

It fueled his rage. His hate. Him.​

 

[Ivory]

DIRECT ALLIES: Lysander von Ascania | Ansisa | Darth Amaymon

OTHER ALLIES: Hasuras Na-Gerra | Varin Mortifer | Acier Moonbound | Xan Atropus | Arixa Pazela

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.

Before Ivory could enter the headquarters dread rose inside of her. The bile stenched her teeth, horror took her by the throat and she carefully looked up to the sky, which was all wrong now. Crimson, as if the air itself was bleeding, flecked with obsidian nightmare. It didn't take long before lightning began to rain down and it didn't take a genius to see how much effect it was having on... everything.

Ships in the air were being hit, shields bursting and leaving themselves open to counter-fire.

Suddenly Ivory was very happy they had left the warships above for the relative safety of the ground. Relative being the key word because as she turned back around to face the front entrance a large explosion rocked her from behind. One of the lightning bolts had hit a crate of ammunition, causing fire and shooting bullets to fly all across its immediate area.

The front entrance was... fortified, to say the least. It could withstand a lot of damage, she could see that clearly. But there was not a wall... that the Force didn't have a solution for.

Ivory set into a run, a sprint, bull-rushing straight towards the door.

For a moment it would have looked like she had been trying to imitate Amaymon. Which was hilarious considering she wasn't anywhere near his size and most likely would have broken her skull open from the reinforced durasteel.

Right as she hit the door? She disappeared.

But rather than be atomized, Ivory ended up on the other side with blade drawn. Having phased through the door, she managed to get through several layers of reinforced durasteel and other heavy materials, before ending back into the sweet release of fresh air. She rolled straight into Force Stealth, praying that any automated defenses were focused on the outside.

She reached out through the Force, tapping Lysander von Ascania 's mind.

I am in. Ivory murmured quietly, not seeing the irony in making fun of Ansisa 's desire to use stealth, while using stealth now herself. You coming or what, Blondie?

 

[Jordi Massad]

TAGS
Alaric de Braose Reiner Ghadi Doctor Afic Otker DT-9197

(OOC Note - I only become useful for the PvP when the attackers get into the building lol)

SYSTEM SHOCK
(COUNTER-INSURGENCY)
II

S C I M I T A R

F R O S T

​

ISB Headquarters, Imperial Center,
Coruscant, Galactic Deep Core (904 ABY)

'Busy out there now.'
'Tougher than the Covenant initially thought, and this is enough for now, yes?'
'Enough for me, anyways.'​

Sharing a little chuckle together, the old Kandaran would talk away with his Corellian-born subordinate whilst the battle raged on outside, looking through detached sniper-optics as if they were mere telescopes, though they were fortunate that neither scope was detached from any weapon within reach. Found in a little box beside the rifle-container, it only seemed right to share one with Agent Frost, as he was every part as curious as Agent Scimitar, especially when the landings were spotted across the city. Studying the designs and weaponry of the dropships, appreciating expensive ordnance as anyone would before going back to watching tank-duels and infantry scuffles, it would become quite apparent to their kill-team bodyguards that no such panic would find the men they were send to protect, a blessing impending from the moment they first shook hands that day.

'I understand what you were trying to tell me, Sir.... You're right.'
'So you learn too, I must admit that I like this development. A blessing it is when a teacher needn't speak twice.'

​

To those who would glare upon Massad's holographic blip, it would appear as though he was doing nothing in the slightest, but while the battle raged around the Headquarters, and raging elsewhere, the old Kandaran was also chatting away with his subordinates on their encrypted comm-link. An otherwise-innocuous way of handling themselves, if it was not for the particulars of that chatter, and with operators seemingly flitting to and fro, none would seem to consider that it was for grander affairs than the mere changing of vantage-points. Tier-1 elements were slyly switching directions and walking off for different tasks entirely, and for as long as the battle raged far beyond their interior-sector's reach, no interruptions would find them, nor would it stop the dialogue that pertained to Jordi's many why's.

Explaining his previous,"TARKIN HAS FALLEN", order, though only after goading verbal prods from the other end of the line, the old Kandaran had gone on to reveal (though only after verifying their clearance levels) who gave the order, and most of all, and in greatest detail, why the order was given. Revealing all the greatest mysteries of that fated day on Bastion, all that it would mean in future decades, especially with the mention of,"Clean Slates", brought to the forefront of the discussion, it would become apparent before long that Massad was being perfectly candid. Not even wasting a breath, pause or moment to recount, and as it was plain for all to see, Jordi could remember every last detail, and in such vivid detail that it would have felt like mere days had passed since.

<"Sir, archives are rigged.">
<"How, though?">
<"Outer walls of the entire sector are going to fall upon them.">
<"Simple solution - if not, a little bland, but it gets the job done.">
<"Yes, sir.... So.... Approved?">
<"Yes, now get back up here. You're missing a show like no other. Scimitar out.">
​

This was Scimitar's last-remaing currency of authoritative control, and he was willing to spend generously, thus the playing pieces would become all the easier coordinate in the impending struggle, as such were the way of things for the last line of retreat. As they were all well aware of what opening doors would mean when the time came, and this was why they were still somewhat comfortable with their lot, avoiding any sudden moves, minimizing their silhouettes as the expected stragglers still seemed to hold out somewhere beyond. However, the desperate Imperial troopers would be the least of their worries, as the breaking lines beyond would merely serve as harbingers for the madness that followed, giving credence to the chance that energy conservation was the reason for relaxing at the ISB's breaking-pint.

Alas, the ISB still had one particular card to play on the brink of collapse, and they were still very much lying in wait, standing by for the one, tide-turning order.

​

'Just you keep that card up your sleeve, Frost.'
'Heh! If anything can keep me from giving that other order, its this. But I do like to tease, and tease we shall.'
'Thats what I like to hear, Frost. There could be hope for you yet, my young friend.'

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

unsure why a BYOO automatically posted here, but nvm.

dud post lol

 

[Delvin jeth]

Kesh Hevro

Delvin had his senses on alert as he walked towards the data archive he was aware of the movements of those around him. He sensed danger but this wasn't the normal rabble of stormtroopers and it wasn't covenant aligned either it was then that the arkanian sensed and saw the troopers open fire. He quickly erected a force barrier to block the incoming fire from the high velocity fire his lit red blade in his left as his right was risen to summon the barrier.

He saw their heat signatures due to his arkanian sight. He didn't see the sonic blast coming as the barrier he erected didn't fully protect from where the blast originated as he was knocked off balance. His ears ringing. He felt dizzy he was enraged more at his own incompetence than anything else as one round grazed his leg and another grazed his right arm as the barrier fell momentarily

In what was a very rare moment for delvin he let his rage and pain take control of him as a unleashed a volley of lightning that fried circuitry and made armor glow red hot. At the moment he didn't care for the data he retaliated and did so harshly as he charged the survivors of his lightning attack.

 

[Yuri Maji]

CORUSCANT | SKYLANES
ALLIES: GE | IMPAF | Severus Barran | Raymond J. Senée | Vara Rasha
ENEMIES: TSC | Acier Moonbound
ENGAGING: Acier Moonbound
GEAR: In bio

THEME​

Yuri managed to ensnare Ace in his ascent, but before he could do anything further to break the kid’s advance, his lightsaber ignited and smacked against the Hound’s grappling line. It immediately loosened and he continued to plummet. Yuri pursued, the line retracting back into his vambrace, and the Hound instead drew a pistol to fire at the rat to keep him occupied.

An attempt that fell flat the moment he saw Ace’s hand shoot out, and an invisible wave of destruction was sent in Yuri’s direction. The blast sent him tumbling through the air for a few seconds as the Hound regained his balance and ignited his jetpack once more.

He stuck to the higher parts of the skylane to track the kid in his hasty advance to whatever destination he had in mind. Two missiles fired from his jetpack to track Ace’s movements in hopes of halting him in an explosive fireball.

But the elevation quickly drew Yuri’s attention, wide eyes stared on in helpless anger at the destruction ahead. Coruscant burned, systems flickered and shut off completely, and all manner of chaos was sown to break the Imperial defense.

Thousands would die.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the skies tore open above the city-planet in a destructive display of power that left the mutt momentarily stunned. He was no stranger to the power of the Force, he grew up and fought some of the strongest Jedi of the last two generations.

But this?

”Manda…” He muttered to himself. His pursuit was pretty much entirely interrupted as he began to fight for his life. Buildings were torn to shreds, ships split open like a can of food blown apart by a blaster… and speeders frantically fell and flew around him. He tapped a button on his vambrace to summon Baby while frantically trying to evade the destruction around him.

He needed to get back.

:: Serval, this is Vandal! What’s your status? They’re tearin’ this karkin’ planet apart. Send me a location ping, I’ll try to get back to you- oh kriff! :: The comms were cut as he swerved over a speeder tumbling towards him, barely clearing the crashing vehicle to continue to what remained of… anything.

He heard Baby’s howl getting closer, but the Basilisk had no way to get to him. Every attempt at gaining elevation was met with resistance as a ship, speeder or part of a cloudcutter came crashing down.

But everyone’s luck had to run out.

Swerving from another piece of falling debris, he spotted an airspeeder too late as it zoomed towards him. His mind went blank in the split-second wake of the vehicle’s advance towards him. A crushing impact sent him flying in the wake of the collision, his jetpack battered in the impact.

His eyes faded in the fall deeper into Coruscant’s bowels, the last thing he could discern was the wailing howl of his Basilisk’s engines desperately trying to catch up to him…