Invasion The Bacta War | Sith Order Invasion of High Republic Thyferra Chapter 1

[Andromeda Demir]

ANDROMEDA DEMIR

THYFERRA

ALAZHI FIELDS

DAYTIME • DAY ZERO

♫ BATTLE AT THE MOAT — JOSEPH TRAPANESE

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The light raked across the battlefield, sweeping a path of righteous destruction, fueled not by rage or even a need for justice, but the frank need to protect that which was behind her: William, the Vratix, and the Republic Marines who were trying to hold the line. She felt nothing so base as satisfaction when the light did its work, when it injured or maimed the creatures of darkness that arrayed against them.

It was simple arithmetic. The darkness was shrouding people in danger. The darkness had to be eliminated.

William Thule was a beacon of power beside her. It fed her, and the energy fed back to him, an ouroboros, sustaining one another with the Force and its feedback. It was exhilarating, energizing. She restrained herself from drawing more of it into her, taking more than she needed. It would have been so simple, so easy. Her fingers flexed, pouring more of herself into the beam, intensifying the attack.

The temptation was there to reach deeper, to see how much brighter she and William might burn together, how completely they could scour the darkness from the field. Andromeda felt the impulse tugging at her, smelling like cedarwood, tasting of a twenty-year old Cinnegar vintage, and recognized it for what it was. The power was seductive, but it wasn't wicked merely because it felt good in her hands -- but neither was the exhilaration a good reason to use more of it than the moment required.

Her grasp loosened on the current running between them, adjusting to the needs of the situation.

The first blaster bolt pierced the thinning darkness, flashing too close for comfort. Andromeda released William's arm and allowed the light in her palm gutter -- but not the connection to William in the Force. She expanded that, lending her power and awareness and extending her own sense of the area. A snap-hiss heralded the blade's activation, and the pale teal blade erupted from the hilt. She brought it up almost in the same motion, snapping to catch another bolt before it could reach William. She sent it wide into the paddies rather than back toward its source, then turned the next aside, and the next after that. More came quickly and some close enough that she could feel their heat as she moved between William and the concentrated fire.

William didn't look back. He didn't need to.

His attention was focused on the Sith advancing against their light. Andromeda settled into a rhythm against the incoming fire, blade rising and flashing against the legionnaires' blaster bolts. One bolt she returned toward the line of droids; another went harmlessly into the water at her feet, sizzling into steam. The Force moved through her more easily now, steadied by the distant presence of Briana Sal-Soren 's battled meditation and the simple knowledge that William Thule trusted her to do what he could not spare the attention for himself.

Then a scream from behind rent the air. Not a human cry, but the shrill and chittering sound that cut across the blasterfire, followed by another and then several at once. Her head turned. Shapes moved through the darkness behind the Jedi, low and fast, closing on the Vratix who had taken shelter among the paddies with the Republic Marines. Whatever they were, they had intentionally circumvented William and Andromeda.

She glanced at William briefly; his attention made his face hard. She remembered his admonition about the Vratix, about drawing them back. She caught another bolt on her blade, drove it aside, and then stepped backward until she was close enough that William could hear without raising her voice. "I've got them."

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and bolted across the field, back toward the Vratix, her saber held low as she moved through the shallow water. The darkness had thinned where the light had burned across it, but it hadn't vanished. It moved in ratty curtains across the steppe, obscuring shapes until they were almost upon her. She could hear the Marines shouting now, the irregular crack of Vratix blasterfire joining the precision beats of the Marines, and two things added to the cacophony: the low guttural movements through water and vegetation, too heavy and purposeful to belong to the frightened insects, and a low rumbling of fury beneath their feet.

"Sergeant!" she called across the din. "Keep them together, and don't chase anything into the fields!"

A shape lunged toward one of the Vratix, and Andromeda turned to intercept it, raising her blade, sweeping between them in a pale teal arc -- not aiming for spectacle, only distance, and deploying only enough violence to achieve it.

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WITH

William Thule • Darth Strosius • Madrona A’Mia • Lina Ovmar

 

[Aerik Lechner]

Wearing: This | Weapons: Lightsaber | Knife
ALLIES: Irina Jesart | ENEMIES: Kito​

The sound came from behind him, close enough that instinct had already begun turning Aerik toward it when Irina crossed the remaining distance. Her lightsaber caught the descending odachi with a violent crack, white flame spilling around the collision and across her armor. Aerik's eyes widened as he understood what had nearly happened and, more importantly, what Irina had done.

She had put herself between him and the blade, without hesitation, after spending their entire approach telling him to stop worrying about her. The contradiction landed harder than Aerik wanted it to. He had spent so much time afraid of being the thing that hurt Irina again that he had never considered how it would feel to watch her willingly place herself in harm's way for him. Some part of him wanted to be angry with her for it, though Aerik knew precisely how that conversation would end. They would have it later.

His attention shifted past the Jedi and caught on the transport instead. A section of durasteel had been melted through, its edges still glowing from the heat used to cut an opening.

The realization pulled Aerik firmly back into the moment. The Jedi had been inside the transport. She had somehow hidden herself well enough that senses Aerik had relied upon his entire life had given him no warning until she chose to strike. He could not know how long she had been concealed or whether she had interfered with the cargo, and stopping the convoy to find out would only sacrifice the opening Prazutis had created.

Irina released her telekinetic blast, and Aerik keyed his comm as he moved.

<<< "Check the cargo. She came out of the transport. Do it while you're moving." >>>

There was no reason for Aerik or Irina to follow the transports themselves. The Emberborne and Second Legion knew their orders, and Gerwald had been explicit that the convoy was to remain separated and continue toward the refinery. The soldiers could protect the payload and determine whether anything had been compromised while Aerik dealt with the person responsible.

Then Irina opened herself completely through their bond.

Aerik felt the difference immediately.

There was no cautious presence waiting at the edge of his awareness. Irina gave him everything she could, allowing intention, position, and instinct to pass freely between them. After Brosi, Aerik would have understood hesitation. He might even have expected it, regardless of how many times she insisted that she did not blame him. Instead, Irina had stepped between him and a killing blow before opening herself to someone who had once sunk his teeth into her shoulder and nearly killed her.

Her trust hurt more than fear ever had.

Not because Aerik believed it misplaced, but because Irina was offering him something he still struggled to offer himself.

Aerik accepted it.

There was no room to dissect what that meant while a Jedi stood in front of them. He allowed Irina's presence to settle naturally alongside his own senses and moved with the intent he felt through their connection. His lightsaber snapped into his hand as he shifted away from her line of attack, the orange blade igniting while Aerik began circling toward Kito's flank.

For once, what happened on Brosi did not make him want distance between them. It made him determined to deserve the trust Irina was giving him.

Aerik's attention settled on the white fire running along Kito's weapon. He had watched it spill from the collision with Irina's blade, and the melted durasteel behind her offered enough evidence that the flame deserved respect. He knew nothing about its nature, just as he did not know how she had hidden herself so completely from him. Both were reasons to avoid assuming he understood the opponent in front of him.

The fact that she had evaded his senses bothered Aerik most. Heightened hearing, scent, and instinct had been constants for as long as he could remember. Even before his training had sharpened them, Aerik had trusted those senses almost without question. Kito had been close enough to hear him speak and close enough to strike, yet he had known nothing until her blade was already moving toward his back.

He would not make the mistake of assuming she had exhausted her surprises.

Aerik continued moving as Irina's telekinetic attack crossed the distance between them, using the pressure it created without presuming what happened when it reached Kito. Through the bond, he remained conscious of Irina's position while forcing Kito to account for a second angle of attack.

Something else became apparent as he closed.

He was still himself.

Aerik had spent the approach toward the refinery wondering what would happen when Thyferra finally became more than smoke on the horizon. Now someone had tried to kill him, Irina had been placed directly in danger, and blood remained heavy enough in the air for Aerik to taste its presence beneath the ash. This should have been the moment he feared.

No hunger answered it.

Yet.

Aerik did not feel triumphant. One moment of control did not erase Brosi or prove that everything Prazutis had taught him would hold when the battle became worse. It did, however, give Aerik something he had not possessed when they arrived on Thyferra.

Evidence.

Behind them, the transports continued through the breach with their escort. The sound of their repulsors gradually diminished as the convoy carried its sealed payload toward the refinery, leaving Aerik and Irina to deal with the threat that had penetrated their defenses. They would catch up when this was finished.

Aerik trusted the Legion to make sure there was something left to catch.

He accelerated toward Kito, bringing the orange blade across in a hard diagonal strike. There was no wildness in the attack and no attempt to overwhelm her with rage. Aerik put his strength behind the saber while maintaining enough control to recover regardless of how Kito answered him.

Irina remained with him through the bond as he attacked, close enough that Aerik could feel her without searching for her.

He had spent too much of the march wondering whether fighting beside Irina was dangerous because of what he might become.

For the moment, Aerik was beginning to understand what they might become if he remained himself.

 

[Rin Taal]

Objective: 1 on the surface of Thyferra
Allies: THR and their allies
Enemies: Sith and their allies
Tags: Open Tiberius Rath (for evacuation)

The familiar shape resolved through the rain into Jade, and some of the tension Rin had been carrying eased before she could stop it. She had meant what she said when she sent the younger woman ahead. Muad had placed Jade in her care, and while Rin understood perfectly well that the Mandalorian was capable of taking care of herself, that knowledge did little to quiet the protective streak that had always been one of Rin's more stubborn qualities. She waited until Jade had crossed the last stretch between them before stepping forward to meet her, golden eyes searching the young woman's armor for any obvious sign that scouting the route had become more eventful than intended.

The report wasn't perfect, but it was good enough. The utility access remained intact, and the passage beneath the avenue was traversable. There was standing water in places and debris had fallen from portions of the ceiling, but Jade had made it through far enough to confirm that the western exit remained open. More importantly, she hadn't encountered Sith forces between here and there. Rin knew better than to translate that into safe. There was very little on Thyferra she would have described that way anymore, but it was safer than the alternatives available to them, and right now that was enough.

"That'll do," Rin answered, relief warming the smile she offered Jade before glancing beyond her toward the street she had just crossed. "And you came back without finding a battle along the way. I'm impressed. Your grandfather may never believe me." The humor was brief, but it helped loosen some of the worry that had gathered inside her. Rin had learned long ago that frightened people didn't need their guide to pretend nothing was wrong. They needed to believe that whatever was wrong could still be managed.

Turning toward the waiting refugees, she climbed back onto the divider and raised one hand until the conversations nearest her began to quiet and the silence gradually spread farther into the crowd. "We've got another route. It won't be comfortable, and we'll go underground for part of it, but it'll get us past the avenue without putting everyone out in the open. Children and anyone injured stay toward the middle. If you can help someone who can't move quickly, do it. Jade and I will get you through." There was hesitation among them, but far less than there had been before, and when Rin stepped down to begin moving again, the column followed.

Rainwater streamed from the ends of her hair, and her tail had long since become thoroughly soaked, but discomfort barely registered anymore. Her attention moved constantly from the route ahead to windows, intersections, and the people behind her. In some ways, it wasn't so different from escorting a caravan through wilderness. The hazards were considerably different, and forests rarely fired artillery at you, but the principles remained the same. Know where you were going, know what could prevent you from getting there, and never forget that the people trusting you to lead them might not recognize danger until they were already standing in it.

They were less than a block from the utility entrance when the Force twisted around her awareness with enough insistence that Rin stopped abruptly. There was no vision and no convenient explanation accompanying the warning, only a sudden certainty that continuing forward without caution would be a mistake. Her head turned toward the buildings lining the street as her ears lifted beneath wet strands of hair, searching through the endless cacophony of rain, distant weapons fire, and burning structures until another sound separated itself from the rest. An engine was coming toward them, and it was close.

"Jade, something's coming." Rin pointed toward the recessed entrances along the left side of the street before turning toward the column. "Everyone off the road and against the buildings. Keep moving and don't run. There's room for everyone if you don't push."

The first civilians obeyed quickly while those farther back took longer, forcing the warning to ripple through the column from one person to another. Rin moved among them, directing people beneath overhangs and into the shallow shelter offered by doorways as the approaching engine grew louder. A mother stumbled while trying to hurry two children forward, and Rin caught the smaller girl by the arm before she could fall, steadying her before returning her gently to her mother's side.

The transport burst through the intersection seconds later. Rin had enough time to recognize the battered markings of a civilian emergency vehicle before it slewed sideways across the rain-slicked street. One repulsor sputtered violently beneath it, sending the transport crashing into the remains of a parked speeder before the vehicle dropped hard against the pavement. Metal screamed against duracrete and sparks briefly competed with the gray rain until the transport finally stopped less than fifty meters from the waiting refugees. Through the sudden stillness that followed came a pounding from somewhere inside the rear compartment.

Rin was moving before she consciously decided to do so. "Jade, with me. Everyone else stay where you are until we know what we've got." The damaged vehicle hissed as she approached, one side scorched badly enough that she could feel heat rolling from it despite the rain. Through the shattered forward viewport she could see the driver slumped across the controls, but the pounding from the rear continued. Rin grabbed the manual release and pulled, only for the damaged mechanism to refuse to move. After a second attempt, she stepped aside enough to give Jade access, casting the Mandalorian a look that carried the faintest trace of humor despite the circumstances. "I think this is where being Mandalorian becomes considerably more useful than being a bard."

Once the hatch had been forced sufficiently open, Rin caught its edge and helped wrench it the rest of the way. Smoke and frightened voices spilled into the street together, revealing far more people packed inside than the transport should reasonably have carried. Several wore the markings of emergency workers, while the rest appeared to be civilians, and Rin immediately spotted at least four who were injured badly enough that they wouldn't be walking anywhere without assistance. One of the medics nearly fell through the opening, coughing hard as Rin caught his arm and steadied him.

"They hit the shelter," he managed between breaths. "Western safe zone."

The words tightened something in Rin's stomach. Behind her waited hundreds of people she had just promised she could get out, while ahead lay a utility passage that would take them toward a refuge that apparently wasn't a refuge anymore. For a moment she could feel the weight of every frightened life behind her, but panic would do nothing except waste the time they still possessed. She looked toward Jade, then the refugees, and finally the borrowed comlink at her shoulder. There had been other evacuation efforts underway before everything began falling apart, other people trying to accomplish precisely what she was doing, and if ships were still coming down through that sky, then there was no sense in each of them trying to solve the same problem alone.

Rin pulled the comlink free and changed frequencies, searching through the evacuation channels until she found the one she had been given for coordination. Static answered her first, followed by broken voices and overlapping reports, but she waited for enough space to key the transmitter. She had no idea how much of what was happening on the surface could be seen from above, or whether the Grace of Theed had any better picture of the rapidly changing battle than she did, but right now even a pair of eyes aboard a ship was more than she had.

"Grace of Theed, this is Rin Taal with a civilian evacuation column, Tiberius Rath . If you're receiving, I've got several hundred refugees moving west through the city, with more wounded just added to us. Our designated safe zone has been hit, so I'm rerouting through the utility passages beneath the western avenue." Rin glanced toward the sky, where the rain occasionally illuminated with distant weapons fire, before looking back toward the civilians crowded beneath what shelter the buildings provided. "I'm hearing you've got evacuation ships coming down. If you can give me a landing zone or pickup point your pilots can safely reach, I'll bring these people to them. We're mobile, but I've got children and wounded with me, so I'd rather not keep them on the streets any longer than I have to."

She released the transmitter without waiting for an immediate answer. Tiberius was somewhere aboard the Grace of Theed, and Rin suspected coordinating ships through the battle raging above and below Thyferra was keeping him more than occupied. Standing in the street waiting for a response wasn't going to improve anyone's chances, however. The utility passage remained their best option for getting beneath the exposed avenue, and whether an answer came in thirty seconds or ten minutes, she could continue moving the refugees toward the western side of the district in the meantime.

"We're still using the tunnel," she told Jade as she returned the comlink to her shoulder. "It gets everyone beneath the avenue and away from the fighting here while they find us somewhere those ships can land. Once we have a pickup point, we'll change course if we need to. Until then, we keep moving west."

Only then did Rin turn back toward the damaged transport and the people slowly emerging from it. Hundreds had just become hundreds plus however many frightened souls had been crammed into that vehicle, and several of those people needed help immediately. She stepped toward the nearest injured woman and offered both hands, bracing herself as she carefully helped her down onto the rain-slicked street.

"Easy. I've got you. You're traveling with us now."

The woman looked beyond Rin toward the enormous column filling the sheltered side of the street before returning her bewildered gaze to the soaked Zorren standing before her. "Who are you?"

There were dozens of answers Rin could have given. Wilder, healer, bard, protector, caravan guard, or even the woman who had somehow gone from wandering the galaxy with a lap harp to guiding hundreds of strangers through an invasion with the granddaughter of the Mandalorian madman she had fallen hopelessly in love with. None of those titles mattered much to the frightened woman holding tightly to her arms, however, and Rin's expression softened as she helped settle her weight against someone able to support her.

"Today? I'm your guide." Her smile carried a warmth the rain and war hadn't managed to wash away. "So stay close, help the person beside you when you can, and we'll find our way out of this together."

Then Rin turned back toward the waiting column and the dark mouth of the utility passage ahead. Somewhere through the static she hoped an answer from the Grace of Theed would eventually come, and somewhere else in the ruined city she could still feel Muad like a distant ember through the dyad. The awareness of him brought both comfort and worry, but she resisted the temptation to reach farther through their connection. He had trusted her to take care of the people here, just as she had trusted him to return to her when his own work was finished. That had to be enough.

Rin drew a slow breath of rain-heavy air and looked across the frightened faces waiting for her. She didn't know where Tiberius would send the evacuation ships, whether the route ahead would remain open long enough to reach them, or what new obstacle Thyferra intended to put between these people and safety. She knew only that they had survived this far, that Jade was beside her, and that somewhere above the storm there were ships coming for them.

Her hand rose, signaling the front of the column to begin moving once more.

"All right, everyone. We're moving again. Stay together, watch your footing once we're underground, and don't leave anyone behind."

With that, Rin turned toward the utility passage and started forward, trusting that the people behind her would follow. She had spent much of her life walking roads whose endings she couldn't see. This one was simply louder, darker and considerably more dangerous than most.

But there was still a road. And Rin Taal had always known how to follow one.

 

[Vivi Irius]

​

Current Location: Alazhi Fields, Destroyed Buildings | State: Burning | Destroyed
Current Equipment: Ignis Impulsa | Ember Armor | Nav'it Orb
Current Squad: N/A
Acknowledging Actions From: Darth Prazutis | Helix | Gerwald Lechner
Tags: Novac Lyrikal

The scorching lashes of intense heat licked the heavy air, the bright blue specks almost latching onto the very flames around him. The sudden mix of crimson and azure fire filtered into a dreaded violet darkening the scorched earth. The pulses of his heart could feel all the intangible forces at work. Tiny threads of the force and a mixture of natural magnetic waves spoke to him. The couple hundred signatures of metals and force related influences became a cacophony of sweet vibration for Vivi.

Each individual ping slowly being deduced into threat, object and useless. Slow, however, for a Novatar was seconds and the seconds it took to feel the looming opposition hurried his step. The obsidian titan splitting through the haze of smoke and fire was a clear indication of the retribution that had come for them. A moment passed and Vivi honed in on the metallic intricate pieces of a tool. Then he could feel the gold, carved into the core design. Behind the pulsing manifestation of it all, lingered the force. A waning aura of conflict.

He proceeded.

Only when he crested over the small embankment of the crater, did he finally see it all start to unfold. His hot eyes went to scan every measure, every detail. The Novatar cared little for the rushing soldiers, the legions of Sith pressing forward beyond the horizon. Instead, it appeared the enemy was trying to frantically find a way to evacuate with the very precious medicinal supplies that the Sith wanted.

Vivi would stop them.

His thick helmet tilted slightly, adjusting his comfort as the twisting machinations of his armor and heart sang the perfect song of protection. This time there was no screech, there was no groan to the iron clicking into place before a fight. Instead, tiny clanks and pops began to meld closer to him. New forms of metals ripped from the very earth sliding into any empty spots for added protection. Then, he picked up the pace. His large frame hurled toward the destruction of buildings as he watched a small group head east.

Part of him felt glee, watching fear in action. It filled him with the very sensation that a Novatar probably felt when they found their Loci. He felt...

Home.

He didn't have time to consider such things as the sky opened up with another relentless assault on other areas of the planet. Whoever was in the heavens above, their ruthless tact emboldened Vivi's advance. Thunderous streaks of laser beams and other secretive methods began to span the whole sky above him. Torrent after torrent of massive decimation ensuing. Vivi could tell this wasn't a simple operation anymore. This was a clear and simple war effort.

Win, no matter the cost or sacrifice.

Vivi respected it, there were other creatures that could never make such calculations. In fact, he, himself, was witnessing blatant ignorance. If the foe had known they would come, then why not evacuate? Vivi contemplated this in the briefest of time, before the same signature from before ripped through him to the core.

His eyes sank inward, animated in such a fashion that seemed unnatural. The foreign composition of his biological makeup broke what reality may have been taught. Until, he was forced to stop. The real threat shimmering mere fifty-feet from him. Vivi honed in on the serpentine being. Its thick muscular reptilian body was impressive to the Fytar. Not many came close to his height, but this creature was one of the closer adversaries he would face. Worse yet, Vivi analyzed the polearm. The onyx and gold hilt ignited from the edge of the far end with a vibrant amber colored plasma blade. It hummed with a static embrace.

"Don't think we've met. And you would be...who exactly?"

Vivi shifted his weight, spacing his feet before revealing through the thin layer of smog around him a weapon unlike any other. The blade shifted into his hands, the thick Novatrite exterior boasting a massive coverage of range. The charred edges showed signs of use, but the core functionality of the Nova Crystals at the center of the blade began to glow a bright red. Vivi, gripped the hilt, pretending to hold it in the palms of his own Novatrite gauntlets protecting his formed hands. In truth, his very heart was controlling the blade. It hovered, with ease between the large slits of his hands before he responded to the disgusting looking creature in front of him now.

"Your retribution, serpent." The voice almost sounded static, before claiming a deep and stern vocal.

Vivi looked out into the distance before the fight would begin. More beautiful flames were spreading, and the air was tinged with a festering smog. Something had changed, something... infectious. Thankfully, such tactics wouldn't impede a Novatar.

He sighed, the way a Novatar would.

Then, he charged for the boneless target.

A thought came to him as he went to strike.

This snake will be the first in this grandiose CLEANSING!!!

 

[Daegon Corvinus]

WEARING: This | WEAPONS: Lightsaber
ALLIES: Seraphina Corvinus | ENEMIES: EVERYONE - Currently blaming Jaun Smyth​

Seraphina collided with him hard enough that Daegon rocked back half a step, but his arms were already moving around her. One settled firmly across her back while the other came to rest against the back of her head, keeping her close as her wings swept around them both. Whatever urgency had driven him through the Crystal Forest disappeared beneath the simple fact that he had her now, and for several moments Daegon made no effort to move her anywhere.

"I know," he murmured when she told him she could not find her way. His voice remained close enough that she would not have to search for it among the echoes. "I've got you."

Another distant impact rolled through the mountain and Seraphina flinched against him. Daegon's hold tightened instinctively, his hand moving slowly against her hair while he waited for the sound to pass. There was little he could do about the bombardment from here, but he could give her something solid to hold onto while the Crystal Forest continued betraying every sense she normally trusted.

Her apology earned a faint crease between his brows.

"Sera, you have nothing to apologize for."

There was enough certainty in his answer to leave little room for argument. Daegon had abandoned the library, Xucphra's reports, and every other concern the moment he understood she could not be found. He would have abandoned considerably more if that had been required. The notion that Seraphina had somehow inconvenienced him by needing to be found was so foreign to his thinking that he could not imagine why she entertained it.

Her fingertips eventually found his face, tracing familiar lines until they reached his jaw. Daegon turned slightly into the touch, allowing her whatever reassurance the familiar shape provided while she began asking the questions he had known would come. She wanted to know what was happening, whether the fields were safe, whether the villages had been struck, and whether people had been hurt.

Of course those were her first questions.

Even frightened and disoriented, Seraphina's thoughts had already moved beyond herself to the people living beneath the mountain and across the agricultural regions beyond it. Thyferra had not called her its Angel because she possessed wings. Daegon had always known that, though moments such as this made the distinction painfully obvious. His first thought upon learning of the attack had been Seraphina, making those who would threaten her safety pay. Hers, once she knew he was there, was everyone else.

"The Sith have come through the Blackwall," Daegon explained, keeping his words measured. "They're attacking Thyferra. There has been bombardment, and we have reports of strikes against the agricultural regions."

He would not offer assurances he could not support. The information reaching Xucphra remained incomplete, and Daegon did not yet know the condition of every village or how many people had been caught in the attack. Seraphina deserved better than comforting lies simply because the truth frightened her.

"I don't know how badly the villages have been hit yet. Xucphra is still trying to account for our people and facilities."

Then she asked whether this was punishment.

Daegon's expression hardened immediately, though none of the change entered the arm holding her or the hand resting gently against her head.

"No. This is not punishment, Sera. Punishment would imply that you, or the people in those villages, had done something to deserve this. They haven't."

His gaze moved briefly toward the crystalline canopy as another distant rumble traveled through it. Daegon knew enough about Sith ambition to recognize what was happening without dressing it in providence or morality. He knew because there was a part of him that understood the philosophy behind conquest far better than anyone on Thyferra suspected. Power did not require permission to take what it wanted, and those capable of seizing something rarely concerned themselves with whether the people caught beneath that struggle deserved what followed.

"This is war," he continued, the distaste apparent in his voice. "Someone decided our world was valuable enough to fight over again, and everyone who lives here is expected to bear the cost of that decision. We are not being punished. We are being... invaded.”

Daegon allowed the certainty of that answer to settle before shifting his hold upon her. He had no intention of releasing Seraphina completely while the explosions continued to ruin the echolocation she depended upon, but remaining in the Crystal Forest served neither of them.

"Stay with me. I'll get you out of here."

He guided her, keeping Seraphina close enough that she could use him as an anchor while they made their way back toward Heaven's Gate. Daegon adjusted whenever the terrain demanded it and warned her quietly of changes beneath their feet, refusing to leave navigation to sound while every new concussion sent false information racing through the crystal around them.

"We're going to see Senator Smyth. I want to know what the Republic knew before this began, what preparations were made, and what they intend to do now."

There was already an edge beneath the words. Daegon knew it and made no effort to conceal it from Seraphina. She knew him too well for the attempt to have accomplished anything.

His hand tightened gently around hers.

"But I want you there with me."

That had always been important.

Daegon could have surrounded Seraphina with guards and beautiful things, hidden her away inside Heaven's Gate, and convinced himself that keeping his wife safe was the same thing as respecting her. He had never wanted that marriage. Seraphina's gentleness did not make her thoughts lesser than his, nor did her lack of sight make her someone whose place was behind him while important decisions were made.

Their lives belonged to both of them.

So did their home.

"I know what I want to ask him. I want to know what you want answered too. The fields and the villages matter to you in ways they don't always matter to me, and I am angry enough right now that I know precisely how easy it would be for me to forget that there are people behind every report crossing my desk."

There was no shame in the admission. Daegon had never pretended to Seraphina that he was a gentler man than he was. Perhaps that was part of the reason he needed her beside him when the temptation arose to reduce everything to assets, failures, leverage, and consequences.

"You see things I don't, Sera." A faint trace of warmth finally softened his voice. "I've always trusted you to make sure I do."

It was one of the quieter truths of their marriage. The Demon of Thyferra sought to protect his Angel with an intensity that could become suffocating if left unchecked, but he had never confused protection with authority over her. When decisions concerned their home, their company, or the lives intertwined with both, Seraphina's voice had always carried equal weight. There were also moments when Daegon deliberately kept her close because he understood himself well enough to know that her presence changed the way he looked at the world.

Today promised to be one of them.

By the time they stepped back inside Heaven's Gate, Daegon's composure had largely returned. His anger had not disappeared. It had merely settled into something more useful, which was precisely why an aide barely managed to approach before Daegon addressed him.

"Get Senator Smyth."

The aide reached for his comm while Daegon remained beside Seraphina. When the connection was ready, he accepted it without relinquishing her hand.

"Senator Smyth, Daegon Corvinus. My wife and I are on our way to your office."

The introduction was courteous enough, but there was nothing resembling a request in what followed.

"I want whatever information you have concerning the Sith attack, particularly what was known before the fleet arrived and what is currently being done to protect the population. I also want the latest information regarding the agricultural settlements and the status of bacta production."

Daegon's attention shifted toward Seraphina before he added anything further. He had just told her that her questions mattered as much as his, and he would not immediately undermine the promise by speaking for her.

"My wife has concerns of her own. She can put those to you herself when we arrive."

Daegon left the channel open long enough for Smyth to answer if the Senator chose to do so, but there was no possibility that an inconvenient schedule would prevent the meeting. If the Republic's representative on Thyferra had other plans, those plans were about to change.

The transport carried Daegon and Seraphina away from Heaven's Gate soon afterward. New reports continued to cross his datapad during the journey, each adding another fragment to a picture he increasingly disliked, but Daegon did not bury himself in them. He shared what was relevant with Seraphina as it arrived and listened whenever she offered something in return. Whatever waited at Smyth's office, they would walk into it with the same information.

Thyferra had already been torn apart by the ambitions of greater powers within Daegon's lifetime. He remembered the Tenth Sith Empire, and he remembered what the Galactic Alliance's attempt to reclaim the world had cost afterward. He had spent years helping rebuild what those conflicts left behind, only to watch the same cycle begin again beneath the reign of a woman he remembered from an entirely different age of galactic politics.

Srina Talon had once been an Exarch. Now she was an Empress.

Daegon wondered how many more titles Thyferra would be expected to survive.

Whatever chaos had overtaken the Senator's offices in the wake of the attack was not enough to deter the Corvinuses when they arrived. Daegon remained close beside Seraphina as they made their way through the building, but he did not lead her as though she were merely accompanying him. They had come together, carrying different concerns about the same wounded world, and whoever sat on the other side of the approaching door would answer to both of them.

Daegon stopped beside his wife outside Senator Jaun Smyth's office. His anger was still there, contained beneath tailored clothes and practiced civility, and he knew Seraphina could probably hear it in him even if no one else could.

Perhaps that was why he wanted her there.

The Demon of Thyferra raised his hand toward the Senator's door, his Angel standing beside him.

The Senator had been warned.

Now they wanted answers.

 

[Jaun Smyth]

Senator of Thyferra
Xucphra City - Government Offices
Daegon Corvinus Seraphina Corvinus Mantys Thranx
​

"How I would like to, Senator. I will see if our tickets can't be exchanged after the commotion dies down – I do not prefer an evening show to a matinee, after all."

Famel, the Duros with the build of null-hockey defense, had brought Mantys a datapad, which he scrolled through as he spoke. "But I must remain at the laboratory. They've been attempting to poison our post-production bacta, did you know! How marvelously sinister. Perhaps they will not stop there. Utilities could also be a target, widespread as they are. Do remain safe, my catalyst."

"This is extremely upsetting to hear," Jaun sighed, "Those tickets were difficult to come by."

A pause.

"Oh and I suppose the Sith poisoning the bacta as well. Terrible, terrible. Send me your location and any updates on the status of your discoveries, my cricket. It looks like a Republic colonel is arriving now, I will see if he can send a squad to your location."

Hanging up, Jaun walked back into the conference room of the underground bunker and sighed theatrically as a Republic colonel and two other Republic army officers arrived.

"Colonel Varanid," a smile plastered on Jaun's face, never reaching his eyes, "Welcome to our little situation room."

"Ssenatorrr," growled the gigantic Besalisk colonel, "We'll be commanding a portion of the Republic forces from here."

"Understandable, understandable."

The two Republic officers started setting up mobile holo displays and the like, plugging them into the room's systems. The phrik superstructure of the bunker would withstand even a direct turbolaser strike, not to mention lightsabers. And the ray shields which could be activated over the front entrance, and the individual break out rooms, not to mention each individual chair at the conference table, might be... useful. Should the need arise.

"Senator, call for you."

Jaun turned to the speaker and accepted a commlink.

"This is Senator Smyth."

"Senator Smyth, Daegon Corvinus. My wife and I are on our way to your office."

The introduction was courteous enough, but there was nothing resembling a request in what followed.

"I want whatever information you have concerning the Sith attack, particularly what was known before the fleet arrived and what is currently being done to protect the population. I also want the latest information regarding the agricultural settlements and the status of bacta production."

Daegon's attention shifted toward Seraphina before he added anything further. He had just told her that her questions mattered as much as his, and he would not immediately undermine the promise by speaking for her.

"My wife has concerns of her own. She can put those to you herself when we arrive."

"I see. It is a terrible situation for the planet, coming under such a brutal and unprovoked attack as this," he nodded, "And I cannot believe you would be pleased with the latest reports - the Sith are apparently poisoning the bacta supplies!"

Jaun tutted, though he knew that the news should alarm the Xucphra Corp. CEO.

"As you can imagine my offices are somewhat.." Jaun glanced at the Republic Colonel who was shouting orders about deploying troops this way and that way, "Crowded. But for one of my interested constituents like you, I am sure I can expedite the security clearance process. You'll be met at the gate and escorted in by our crack commando squad. Did you know they received training in withstanding the mental influence of Sith? Fascinating stuff. Anyhow, they will escort you to the situation room and I can address your concerns further. I will see you shortly, Mr. Corvinus."

Smyth sat at the head of the table and clicked off the commlink, awaiting the arrival of Corvinus and his lady wife through the blast doors.

Meanwhile, Colonel Varanid started growling about a 'full frontal assault' and 'pushing the Sith back in all sectors until the reactionary force arrives.'

How very military.

Suddenly, the ground shook beneath his feet. Jaun frowned. Odd. That didn't feel like a turbolaser strike. Jaun shrugged.

ATTN ALL CONCERNED: REPUBLIC FORCES ARE LAUNCHING COUNTER OFFENSIVES AGAINST ALL DEBARKED SITH GROUND FORCES AS THEY FIGHT TO BUY TIME FOR THE ARRIVAL OF THE QUICK REACTION FLEET​

 

[Judah Lesan]

WEARING: Robes
WEAPONS: 2 Lightsabers
ALLIES: Lorn Reingard | Acier Moonbound
ENEMIES: Srina Talon | Mercy
Judah barely made it through the refinery doors before Srina's voice found him. It did not come from behind him. It came from inside.

Judah... You ran away.

His step faltered, and for one ugly second the refinery disappeared beneath the familiar pressure of her presence. Srina knew how to reach the places in his mind that were already damaged. She knew where the gaps were, where the memories slipped, and where enough pressure could make one thought collapse into another. Judah caught himself against the nearest support and forced his eyes open.

“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, “that was kind of the idea.”

Why would you run from me?

That almost made him laugh. Almost.

“I don’t know, Srinabae. The accommodations were starting to lose their charm.”

The answer gave him something to hold onto. Not much, but enough. Lorn was guiding him farther inside while Ace remained close, and Judah kept moving before his thoughts decided to wander off without him. The blast doors were dropping behind them, which seemed promising right up until Ace mentioned Mercy and then added that Srina was his aunt.

Judah looked over at him. “Your aunt?”

There were a lot of things his brain was currently struggling to keep organized, but that one seemed worth revisiting. Apparently the first Jedi he managed to find after escaping Srina was related to Srina. Judah glanced toward the closing doors and then back to Ace. “Of course she is.”

The doors slammed shut, and Judah let out a breath.

“Okay. Good. Big door. I like the door.”

The metal immediately buckled inward.

Judah’s expression flattened. “Never mind.”

The sound that followed was unpleasant enough to make him wince. Metal screamed, something strange chimed beyond the barrier, and then the door ceased to be a particularly effective door. Fragments scattered across the refinery floor as Mercy stepped through beside Srina, and Judah stared at the ruined entrance for a long moment before looking at Mercy .

“That lasted a lot longer in my head.”

Ace moved before Judah did, placing himself directly between him and the two Sith while blue and purple erupted from his weapons. Judah looked at the younger man’s back with a faint frown. They had known each other for perhaps a minute, though Judah’s sense of time was not dependable enough to swear to that, and Ace was already standing between him and the woman who had spent more than a year dismantling his mind piece by piece.

“Hey,” Judah said, straightening a little behind him. “You don’t actually know me.”

It probably was not the most useful observation given the circumstances, but it felt important.

Then Mercy started talking about Acier, disappointment, Arris, and slaughtering civilians. Judah’s attention drifted between Mercy, Ace, and Lorn while his damaged thoughts tried to find somewhere sensible to put all of it. They all knew each other. Of course they did. He rubbed at his temple and glanced between them.

“I picked a really weird group of Jedi.”

Srina’s presence pressed against his thoughts again, and the humor slipped for a moment. Judah looked at her and found too many memories attached to that face with not enough of them intact. He remembered fear without always remembering why, pain without remembering when, and conversations that started clearly before disappearing somewhere he could not reach.

But he remembered her.

That part had survived perfectly.

Srina had asked for a hug before the doors came down, and the thought finally caught up with him. Judah gave her a tired look.

“Did we hug before? Because I feel like I’d remember that.”

His hand settled near the lightsaber hidden in his jacket. It was not going to solve this, and Judah knew it. He was battered from the crash, his head was barely cooperating, and the two women standing across from them were not exactly the sort of problem one solved with a glow stick.

Still, it made him feel better.

Ace was already challenging Mercy, so Judah glanced at him and then toward Lorn before looking back at Srina and her battle-sister. “Just so we’re clear, I was looking for Jedi because I thought that would make things easier.”

His eyes moved once more between the two Sith Empresses.

“So far, mixed results.”

Judah pulled the lightsaber from beneath the stolen jacket and thumbed the activation switch. The weapon answered with a familiar snap-hiss, except the light that spilled across his hand and the refinery floor was not the color his battered mind expected.

It was red.

Judah stared at the blade.

Then he looked at Ace’s blue lightsaber, at Lorn, and finally back down at his own weapon as though one of them might explain how this had happened.

“What the Sith?”

For several seconds he simply stood there, visibly trying to work through information that his brain had apparently neglected to provide. “I definitely don’t remember being the bad guy.”

The joke should have helped.

It did not.

Red filled his vision, and the refinery vanished.

He was somewhere else again.

Katara Starkos-Lesan stood in front of him.

Judah knew this one. He had seen it too many times while sleeping, while waking, and sometimes in the spaces between the two. He knew what came next even though some part of him still begged the memory to change.

The red blade moved.

She fell.

Then she was standing again.

The blade moved.

She fell.

Again.

Every time Judah reached for her, he was already too late. Every time he tried to stop his own hand, the dream refused him. Her face changed between one heartbeat and the next, sometimes frightened, sometimes confused, sometimes simply looking at him as though she could not understand why the man who loved her was the one holding the weapon.

The blade passed through her again.

Judah sucked in a sharp breath.

The refinery snapped back into focus around him.

His red lightsaber was still humming in his hand.

For a moment he did not seem to know where he was. His eyes remained fixed on the blade while the dream clung to the edges of reality, the image of his wife falling over and over again refusing to disappear completely.

Judah finally swallowed and looked toward Srina Talon .

The humor tried to return, because that was what Judah did when everything else stopped making sense.

Instead the only thing he could feel was... hate. Judah HATED Srina Talon , and he wanted her dead.

“Okay,” he said quietly, glancing once more at the red blade. “I feel like there’s a story here I’m really not going to enjoy remembering, but what the heck.”

He pushed past Acier and lunged for the Empress.

 

[Chomba Womba]

​

Objective: BYOO - Fleeing before things get spooky AGAIN!
Location: Tyferra Market

Chomba was racing through the fields of Thyferra, screaming his head off, his limbs flying in every which direction as he could not figure out which direction was the correct way to go in order to return to his beloved ship. Sith were crawling around everywhere and he was sure that they were doing similar things to Thyferra that he had seen on the previous world that he had been visiting. The Mangoes one. Abra... Abracadabra or something. It had been bad whatever the name was. It was now Fungus Zombie World, FZW. Chomba did not want to see if he could survive Fungus Zombie World 2: Too Fungus, Too Zombie! Chomba was not a fan of sequels, especially the horrible, terrible kinds!

The short man raced around and then spotted Sith troopers in the not too far distance. Collapsing to the ground, he crawled forward, desperate to sneak past the soldiers. Chomba had the legendary blaster pistol on him but the legendary pistol only had a single round and Chomba couldn't afford any more bullets for it. So it was for facing the absolute worse danger in life. Some legendary Sith Lord or Empress kinds that refused to let Chomba escape. He had been fortunate to not need it on FZW 1. But Chomba was not thinking that he would be as lucky this time around.

"sneak, sneaky, sneak. Chomba doing the sneak." Chomba loudly whispered to himself as he crawled around. Not realising that he was drawing more attention to himself with the little sneaking song. Chomba continued to crawl but nearly full body rising up to look around and spotting the Sith soldiers basically pointing in his direction and raising their blaster rifles up. "OH NO! CHOMBA BEEN FOUNDED! THEY DEFINITELY AFTER CHOMBA FOR THE GREAT ESCAPE!" Chomba jumped in the air and his legs raced forward. The sounds of blaster bolts flying past or near Chomba only made the poor man run even harder.

Reaching the edges of the fields, Chomba was littered in cuts, scorch marks and a couple bruises. He had lost the soldiers after a ten minute chase but Chomba was more convinced than ever that the Sith were exclusively on Thyferra for him. Why else would those soldiers be hunting him, shooting at him and chasing him? Chomba could feel the reasoning now. "Chomba must have great bounty on his head, biggest bounty in galaxy..." Chomba muttered to himself, slightly in awe of the fierce reputation he had conjured for himself almost without trying. Chomba was too dangerous, that must be it.

But that meant he had to get out of here. As soon as he fled, then that would mean the Sith would leave and go hunting for him elsewhere right? Chomba was sure of it. He was going to be the saviour of Thyferra, or Tyfus, or Tiberus.... Whichever of the three names this planet was called. Names were really hard.

For now, Chomba needed a plan, mostly centred on getting back to S.S. Starship. That was where he could do his best tricks to escape. However, Chomba knew he was deathly injured, he could barely move at this point so he needed some salve to reduce the pain and cure his mortal wounds. It was not easy being the big hero, but it was a title that Chomba would wear with honour. He would be the hero that the High Republic needed, the one that saved Tonsils. As Chomba searched for aid, he saw that a man was rubbing some of the healing bacta on himself. Chomba was amazed, it was healing him right up and it was brilliant, just what he needed!

Chomba approached the man to get some bacta gel for himself. With some extraordinary bad luck, though some might say it was life saving good luck, the human started to bubble and transform. As if the healing bacta was mutating them into some disgusting monster thing! Chomba screamed in horror at the sight. Forgetting all about the minor cuts, bruises and scorch marks. His life was now in real peril and it was another Abracadabra thingy, except it was monstrous mutants over fungal zombies!

Chomba was trapped on Bacta Mutant World! BMW!

 

[Aiden Porte]

OBJ:1
Location: Fields-Hold The Swarm
Seren Gwyn ​

Aiden maneuvered against her sweeping attack, springing upward as her weapon passed beneath him. His blue blade came around quickly, catching and deflecting the follow up strike aimed toward his side. The Jedi Knight ignored her words entirely. She was doing far more talking than he was, and he considered it little more than bluster meant to distract him. He pushed through it, refusing to allow her taunts to break his concentration.

Her next attack slipped through his defense and caught him across the chest, sending Aiden stumbling backward. Pain surged through him, but he regained his footing before she could capitalize. Drawing deeply upon the Force, Aiden thrust his hand forward and unleashed a powerful blast of Force energy directly toward her, hoping to drive her back and give himself a moment to recover.

He could feel it across the battlefield, in the distance, agony rippled through the Force those infected began to rend and twist. Those who had been infected were changing, becoming dark creatures of a terrible nature. Aiden's expression hardened he didn't need to hear it from anyone, he could feel it through the force. His forces were under attack now, and whatever chance he had, to reach them to uncover this ploy was now over.

He was too late, he failed. Aiden sent the order without hesitation. His forces were to regroup immediately, recover whoever they still could, and move to a safer position. He would have to trust them to survive without him for now. He would remain here, and continued this fight. More so, news reached him via comlink as a counteroffensive was being done. Surely his forces would regroup with the counteroffensive.

 

["Ariel"]

Get off Thyferra
ON THE GROUND
THYFERRA

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Raguel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel Sariel, VIGILANT REAPER [
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  
  • "Enterprise" Station Ship
  • Vigilant Reaper
  • Null Vector
  • Speederbike
  • Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  
  
  • Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, link to Seraphim AI included)
  • Lightblaster
  • Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  • 5 Throwing Lightknives
  • 3 Force Blinding Flashbangs
  • RI-17 Rifle-w-MS-0412 Grenade Launcher
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  
  • Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  • Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  • Muscle enhancements.
  • Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  • Hawkeye implants for eyes
  • Advanced Medical Implant
  • Scentzy
  • Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
  
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

The rain should have helped.

Connel watched it hammer the street in sheets, bouncing from duracrete and running in streams toward already overwhelmed drainage systems. Smoke from the destroyed Overwatch positions twisted through the downpour, pushed low by the wind before disappearing between industrial structures.

It should have helped. Something about the sight told him it wasn't.

[Michael.]

Bren Alazar was already looking. The tactical display projected between them showed what remained of the Overwatch network. One position after another had disappeared in explosions deliberately triggered by the enemy. The attacks had accomplished what Omega intended. The positions were gone. Enemy surveillance had been degraded. Routes had opened. Nemesis had been forced to react.

Except...

Connel stared toward the nearest plume. Something was moving through it. Not smoke. Not entirely. His HUD flashed.

WARNING FOREIGN CONTAMINANTS DETECTED

He stopped. The warning disappeared. Then returned.

RESPIRATOR SEA CONFIRMED

EXTERNAL ATMOSPHERE COMPROMISED

Connel looked toward Bren. [You're seeing this?]

Bren's expression answered before he did. [Yeah.]

Raphael came over the squad channel. [Got particulate warnings.]

[Same.]

Michael, Gabriel, [Same.]

Another. Then Jeremiel.

[Everybody stop.] Connel froze. There was something different in Jeremiel's voice. Not fear. Professional concern. "Nobody opens anything. Nobody breaks seals. Check respirators. Check gloves. Check neck seals. Check your buddy.][/COLOR]

Omega immediately complied. No questions. Connel turned toward Bren. Bren inspected his seals. Connel did the same. Green.

Everything green.

The masks were working. Their equipment was vacuum-rated. Environmental isolation was part of the reason Omega could operate in places conventional infantry couldn't. That didn't make Connel feel better. It made him wonder what would have happened if they hadn't been wearing it. [Jeremiel?]

[Still reading.]

[Reading what?]

[That's the problem.]

Connel glanced toward the clouds spreading through the industrial park. [What?]

[I don't know.]

That got everyone's attention. Jeremiel continued. [Respirators are catching foreign biological contaminants. Beyond that, I don't have enough information.]

Bren looked toward the rain. [Biological?]

[That's what the sensors say.]

Connel felt his stomach tighten. The Overwatch positions. The barrels. The explosions. Gas. Rain. Wind. All of it suddenly connected without providing anything resembling an answer. [SERAPHIM.]

I am listening.]

[Atmospheric analysis.]

Already underway.]

Bren looked at the tactical display. [Reaper.]

[Go.]

[Did you see those detonations?]

[Affirmative.]

[Track the plumes.]

A pause. [Already tracking.]

Connel almost smiled. Of course they were. [Where are they going?]

The tactical display changed. Wind. Terrain. Rainfall. Buildings. Heat. Estimated particulate movement. Colored projections began spreading outward from the destroyed Overwatch positions. Some stayed relatively localized. Others didn't. One crossed an evacuation route. Another drifted toward an industrial storage complex.

A third…

Bren leaned closer. [That's headed toward the city.]

Nobody spoke. Then SERAPHIM interrupted. [I am detecting anomalous activity within municipal infrastructure.]

Bren looked up. [What kind?]

Insufficient data.]

[Give me what you have.]

Multiple systems have received unauthorized commands.]

Water. Environmental controls. Industrial pressure systems. Utility management. Other systems began populating the display. Connel stared at them. [From the Sith?]

I cannot conclusively attribute every intrusion.]

[Don't.] Bren's voice was immediate. [Facts only.]

Confirmed. Hold, I am receiving a communicae from @Mantys Thrax]

That mattered. They weren't going to invent answers because they were frightened of the questions.

Connel looked back toward the smoke. Something moved. He raised his rifle. [Contact.]

Omega turned. A figure stumbled from between two buildings. Civilian. Male. Thyferran worker by the clothing. He was running. No. Trying to. He fell. Got back up. Fell again. Connel started forward. Jeremiel grabbed his shoulder. [Don't.]

Connel looked at him. [He's hurt.]

[I know.]

The man stumbled again. His movements were wrong. Jerky. Uncoordinated. He dropped to his knees. Hands against the ground. Then his entire body convulsed. Connel took one involuntary step. Jeremiel's grip tightened. [Connel.]

The man's scream cut through the rain. Everyone heard it. Then another scream answered somewhere farther away. Connel slowly turned his head. Another. Different direction. Then blaster fire. Republic frequencies suddenly erupted. "Medical!”

"...civilian just attacked…”

"...something wrong with…”

"...keep them BACK!”

"...need a corpsman!”

"...what the hell is happening?!”

Bren stared at the tactical display. Green contacts. Republic. Civilian concentrations. Unknown contacts. Reports started appearing. Not enough to form a pattern. Enough to form a warning. Jeremiel looked toward Bren. [Michael.]

[Yeah.]

[We assume contamination.]

Bren didn't hesitate. [Agreed.]

Connel looked at the civilian in the street. [We don't know that.]

[No.]

Bren looked directly at him. [And I'm not waiting until we do.] There it was. The call. Bren switched to the full Omega frequency. [All Omega elements, contamination protocol. Full environmental seals mandatory. Nobody breaks seal for any reason without Jeremiel's authorization.]

Acknowledgments returned. Bren changed frequencies. [Reaper.]

[Go.]

[Come down.]

That was different. The Reaper had spent the battle hiding. Watching. Tracking. Striking only where necessary. Now Bren wanted it close. [Confirm.]

[Bring her down. I want full atmospheric sensors on the industrial district. Map every plume you can find. Wind, runoff, particulate movement, everything.]

[Copy.]

[And Reaper?]

[Go.]

Bren looked at the tactical display. [We're changing mission.]

_____________________________

The Vigilant Reaper descended.

Not into the battle. Into the storm. Its silhouette appeared briefly between clouds before disappearing again. Sensors came alive. Passive observation gave way to active analysis.

Atmospheric sampling. Thermal mapping. Weather. Chemical detection. Biological warnings. Every system capable of telling Omega what was happening began feeding SERAPHIM. The tactical picture changed. Again. This time nobody liked what appeared. Possible contamination zones expanded. Bren keyed another frequency. [Regal.]

Static. Then: [Crownbreaker.]

[We've got a possible biological event.]

Regal didn't ask whether Bren was certain. [Source?]

[Unknown. Strong correlation with the destroyed Overwatch positions. We've got atmospheric warnings and civilian incidents.]

[Transmission?]

[Unknown.]

[COLOR= ROYALBLUE][Agent?][/COLOR]

[Unknown.]

[Effects?]

Bren looked toward the civilian in the street. [Unknown.]

There was a pause.Then Regal: [That's an impressive collection of unknowns.]

Connel muttered: [He's taking it well.]

Regal continued. [What do you know?]

That was the right question.

Bren answered. [Omega's sealed gear is detecting foreign biological contaminants. Multiple plumes are spreading from destroyed enemy positions. Reaper is tracking them. Municipal systems may have been compromised. We've got civilian incidents occurring near suspected exposure zones.]

[Enough.] Connel looked toward Bren.

Regal had reached the same conclusion. [All Republic ground forces under my command will seal immediately.]

[Good.]

[Recommendations?]

Jeremiel stepped closer. [Nobody eats. Nobody drinks local water. Nobody removes a helmet. Avoid physical contact with civilians until we've established controlled screening.]

Regal responded immediately. [Understood.]

[And Commander?]

[Yes?]

[Your people need to understand that doesn't mean abandon them.]

A short silence. [I'll make certain they do.]

___________________________________________

Regal changed the Republic war with six words.

[All units, full environmental seals.]

Across Thyferra, helmets locked. Visors closed. Vehicle hatches slammed shut. Clone troopers checked one another. Republic infantry sealed respirators. Those without adequate protection were pulled from exposed positions wherever possible. [Effective immediately, local water and food sources are considered compromised.]

Questions flooded the channel. Regal ignored them. [Civilian movement will be controlled through designated corridors. Do not allow uncontrolled entry into Republic positions.]

Someone protested. ["Commander, we've got hundreds trying to get through!”]

[I know.]

["We can't turn them away!”]

[We aren't.] Regal's voice remained steady. [We're changing where they go.]

The tactical map updated.

[Establish holding areas outside primary defensive positions. Medical teams remain sealed. Separate exposed populations from unexposed wherever possible.]

Another officer: "We don't know who's exposed.”

[No.]

Regal looked across the battlefield from within Crownbreaker. [So assume everyone is until we know otherwise.] [/COLOR]Hard. Ugly. Necessary. [Nobody gets abandoned.] That was equally important. [Nobody gets waved through either.]

_______________________________________

Bren watched Republic formations begin changing.

Somebody finally asked the question Connel had been avoiding. [What about the bacta?] Talyn.

Nobody answered immediately. Thyferra. Bacta. The reason half the galaxy cared about this world. Connel looked toward the industrial storage markers. ["If that's contaminated…]

Bren finished. ["We don't know.]

SERAPHIM spoke. I can begin isolating storage and production records. I am being contacted by @Mantys Thrax who is also working the same objectives as I am. We are collaborating.]

[Do it.]

Clarify priority.

Bren looked at Connel. This wasn't just a battle anymore. This was preservation. People. Medicine. Knowledge. Infrastructure. Whatever remained when this was finished would matter for years.

[Medical data first,] Connel said.

Bren nodded. [Bacta research. Production information. Strain records. Anything necessary to rebuild.]

SERAPHIM responded. Transfer destination?]

[Reaper.]

Available storage is finite.]

[Use everything you've got.]

I can establish additional encrypted repositories. As well as off-site redundancy to Celestial City.]

[Do it.]

Talyn looked toward the terminal. What about local copies?]

Connel shook his head. [Don't touch them yet.]

Bren agreed. [We save first. Purge only if we're certain they're about to be lost or taken.]

Understood.] Data began moving. Slowly. Painfully slowly. But moving.

Thyferra's memory started climbing into the storm.

_______________________________

Then another civilian screamed.

Closer. Connel turned. This time there were three. Coming down the roadway. One supporting another. The third staggering behind. Republic security forces appeared at the opposite intersection. Weapons came up. Connel's heart stopped. [NO!]

His voice hit the open channel. [Hold fire!]

The Republic soldiers hesitated. One civilian collapsed. Another screamed.

The third began convulsing. [Hold!]

Connel ran forward.

Jeremiel swore. [CONNEL!]

He stopped at the edge of the projected contamination boundary. Twenty meters. That was all. Twenty meters between him and people who needed help. He could cross it. His suit was sealed. He could reach them. Carry them. Get them somewhere safe. Jeremiel appeared beside him. [No.]

Connel looked over. [I'm sealed.]

[That's not the point.]

[I can get them.]

[And then what?]

Connel said nothing.

Jeremiel pointed at his armor. [You cross that line, everything outside your seals is contaminated until proven otherwise. Your armor. Your weapons. Anything you touch afterward.][/COLOR]

Connel looked toward the civilians. One was still moving. [Then decontaminate me.]

[With what?]

That stopped him. They didn't have an established procedure. Not yet. Jeremiel lowered his voice. [You don't help them by becoming another vector.]

Connel hated him for being right. For approximately half a second. Then: [Reaper.]

[Go.]

[Can you get eyes on my position?]

[Already have you.]

[Those civilians.]

[Tracking.]

[Find me a way to reach them.]

There. Not I can't. Not leave them.

Find another way.

Reaper began working. SERAPHIM joined. Jeremiel started examining their equipment inventory. Bren watched all three. Then looked toward Connel. [Third option.]

Connel didn't take his eyes from the civilians. [Always.]

_____________________________________

Another alarm sounded.

FOREIGN CONTAMINANT LEVEL INCREASING

Bren looked toward the tactical display. The nearest plume was spreading. Rain wasn't stopping it. If anything, runoff was carrying unknown material somewhere else. He stared at the map. Industrial district. City. Evacuation routes. Republic lines. Bacta facilities. They couldn't fight this everywhere. They couldn't even see all of it. But they could draw a line. [Reaper.]

[Go.]

[I want a perimeter.]

[Define.]

[Take everything you've got. Atmospheric readings. Wind. Water flow. Civilian incidents. Overwatch locations. Give me the largest defensible boundary around the suspected contamination.]

SERAPHIM interrupted. Confidence will be low.]

[I don't care.] Connel looked toward him.

Bren corrected himself. [I care. Mark confidence. But give me the line.] Seconds passed. Then the tactical map changed. A boundary appeared. Ugly. Irregular. Moving. Bren stared at it. [That's our box.]

Connel understood immediately. [Contain it.]

Bren nodded. [Contain it.]

The order went out. Republic forces shifted. Roads closed. Armor moved. Checkpoints formed. Clone formations withdrew from positions that no longer mattered and reinforced those that did. Crowdbreaker turned.

The REEK changed direction.

Reaper climbed slightly, widening its sensor picture. SERAPHIM began closing blast doors and industrial access points along the projected boundary. Omega's explosives suddenly had a new purpose. Not funneling Sith. Not ambushes.

Quarantine.

Bren pointed toward the eastern approaches. [Charges there.]

[Collapse?]

[Not yet.]

Southern roadway. [Rig it.]

[Copy.]

Maintenance tunnels. [Seal them.]

Talyn nodded. [SERAPHIM can handle some.]

[Have her do it.]

Connel looked toward the western access corridor. [Civilians are still using that.]

Bren left it open. [Then we hold it.]

Simple. No grand declaration. Just a line on a map that somebody had to defend.

________________________________________

The REEK came roaring toward the new perimeter.

Jeremiel guided it remotely, no longer trying to convince the Sith there were three armored vehicles. That game was over. Now it had work. [REEK approaching Containment Aurek.]

Regal answered. [Friendly forces present.]

[I see them.]

The REEK stopped sideways across an industrial roadway. Several tons of armor became a barricade. Its turret rotated toward the contaminated district. Not toward the civilians. Toward anything trying to come through uncontrolled. Jeremiel looked at the contamination readings. [Michael.]

[Go.]

[REEK is getting external warnings too.]

Bren absorbed that. [Stay remote.]

[Absolutely.]

[Nobody touches it.]

[Wasn't planning on hugging it.][/COLOR

Connel heard the exchange. Something occurred to him. [What do we have aboard?]

Jeremiel checked. [Ammo. Rockets. Hammerstrike rounds. Blinders. Standard mission load.]

[Blinders?]

[Yeah.] Connel almost followed the thought. Incendiary. Heat.

Maybe…

Jeremiel got there too. Silence. Then: [Huh.]

Bren heard it. [What?]

Jeremiel looked at the inventory. [Nothing yet.]

Connel understood why. Not yet. They didn't know enough. Don't start setting fire to an unknown biological contaminant because it sounded clever. Test. Learn. Then act. [Put a pin in it,] Connel said.

[Already did.] The idea stayed there.

Waiting.

________________________________

Reaper continued mapping.

SERAPHIM continued stealing copies of Thyferra's medical knowledge away from danger. Regal continued building the perimeter. Republic transports changed destinations. Clone troopers established controlled civilian corridors.

Omega laid charges at roads they hoped they wouldn't need to destroy. Every few seconds another report arrived. Foreign contaminants. Civilian illness. A new suspected exposure. A utility system behaving strangely. Nothing conclusive. Everything worrying. Connel stood beside Bren beneath the rain. The droplets struck his mask. Rolled across the lenses. His respirator remained sealed.

FOREIGN CONTAMINANTS DETECTED.

Still there. He looked toward the spreading darkness. [Michael.]

[Yeah?]

[This isn't the mission anymore.] Bren looked at him.

Connel pointed toward Nemesis's positions. Raphael, Jeremiel, [We were trying to figure out what he's protecting.]

Then toward the contamination map. [That can wait.]

Bren nodded slowly. People first. It had always been people first. [Reaper.]

[Go.]

Bren watched the perimeter tighten. [All weapons available?]

[Available.]

[Ordnance?]

[Available.]

[Air-to-ground?]

[Available.]

Bren took a moment before giving the next order. [You're cleared hot inside the containment zone against confirmed hostile targets threatening the perimeter or evacuation.]

[Copy.]

[Nothing speculative.]

[Understood.]

[No fire near civilian concentrations without positive separation.]

[Understood.]

Connel looked toward the clouds. [You're not coming back up.]

Reaper understood. [Confirm.]

[Stay on station.]

Bren looked at the growing contamination map. [If that perimeter starts folding, I want you hitting anything that prevents us from closing it.]

[Copy.]

[And start calculating options for thermal containment.]

That earned a pause. [Thermal containment?]

Connel answered. [Fire.] Nobody needed the rest explained.

Not yet.

The Reaper climbed into the storm. Its weapons remained ready. Its Blinders remained aboard. For now.

____________________________________________

Regal's voice rolled across Republic frequencies.

[Containment line is now active.]

Clone troopers locked shields and weapons into position. Republic infantry checked seals. Armor covered evacuation routes. Medical teams prepared isolated receiving areas. [Nobody crosses without authorization.]

The rain continued. [Nobody removes their helmet.]

Lightning flashed. [Nobody drinks the water.]

Crowdbreaker stepped into position. [And nobody gets left behind.]

_______________________________________

Connel watched the tactical display.

It was impossible. Too many contacts. Too many unknowns. Too many people. Too much ground. They couldn't save all of Thyferra. Maybe they couldn't save most of it. That wasn't the decision in front of them.

Bren looked at him. [Save what we can?]

Connel hated the sentence. He nodded anyway. [Save what we can.]

People first. Data. Bacta. Whatever could still be protected. Whatever couldn't be protected would be isolated. Whatever couldn't be isolated... Connel looked toward the REEK inventory. Then toward the Reaper circling somewhere above the storm. They weren't there yet. But the option existed.

Bren followed his gaze. [Thinking what I'm thinking?]

[I think so, but how are we going to get the Lizard Monkey to ride the Nexu?] Even Jedi can kid, even when their emotions are suppressed.

[What?]

[... Probably.]

[That's concerning.]

[Usually is.]

Bren looked toward the contamination zone. [We'll need proof heat works.]

[Yeah.]

[And we'll need to know what happens when we burn it.]

[Yeah.]

[And if it works?]

Connel watched another warning appear across his HUD. FOREIGN CONTAMINANTS DETECTED.

His expression hardened beneath the mask. [Then we burn as much of this crap out of existence as we can.]

Bren nodded.

Not yet.

First they contained it. First they saved everyone they could reach.First SERAPHIM preserved what Thyferra could not afford to lose. First Regal built them a wall. First Reaper gave them a sky. Then, when they understood enough to know that fire wouldn't make the nightmare worse...

They would find out how much of hell could burn.

Above them, the Vigilant Reaper rolled through the storm and began its first containment orbit. Below, the REEK blocked the road. Around them, Republic lines closed. And for the first time since the Overwatch positions exploded, the spreading darkness encountered something it had not expected.

A boundary.



1. CONNEL VANAGOR AND OMEGA SQUAD ARE CONTAINING THE AREA. NOT SURE WHAT IS HAPPENING BUT NOT ALLOWING IT TO SPREAD.

2. REAPER WILL TARGET ANY SHUTTLE ON THE GROUND OR THAT LEAVES

3. REPUBLIC FORCES AS WELL AS OMEGA SQUAD ARE IN VACUUM SEALED SUITS.

4. SERAPHIM HAS TRANSFERRED NEARLY ALL POSSIBLE DATA OFF PLANET SAFELY WITH THE HELP OF @MANTYS THRAX

TAGS • ARE • OPEN

Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Tobias Dib]

Allies: Sith Order
Enemies: Everyone else
Tags: Connel Vanagor , "Ariel" , Seren Gwyn , Aiden Porte , Jaun Smyth , OPEN


"While you are in the systems, let's wipe out all debt the Thyferrean people have. All loans, credit lines, stocks. Reset everything back to zero. Let's get into the education system. Delete all the histories and replace them with the histories of the Sith and Sith Order. They need to be properly educated." From beneath his buy'ce he grinned. Nemesis could imagine kids opening their datapads and receiving line upon line of Sith propaganda followed by images and videos of Sith conquest. A caveat on top of everything else.

"See if we can start shutting down the power grid. Knock out power and turn everything black. That should be fun." The likelihood of complete success was low. But everything they could do to sow anarchy and fear was a bonus. "Instruct our troops to find elevated positions and lob grenades and rocket-propelled explosives into the enemy, harrowing our perimeter. Focus on the armored vehicles. Oh, and send several arcing into the city. More chaos." The more they planted seeds of devastation, the more they could reap. Extremely beneficial to the Sith war machine. The timer continued its countdown.

3.57.43
3.57.42
3.57.41

His eyes scanned schematics on his HUD. Effortlessly, he zoomed in and out as the industrial park shuddered under the constant barrage of battle. Government buildings, including their offices and courthouses; corporate banks with staunch firewalls; luxury resorts and upper-class estates; and other municipal institutions. Should his position become untenable, alternative plans were being explored. The possibilities were endless, especially as the armies of both the Sith Order and the High Republic were currently engaged in active warfare. This left Nemesis free to play various nefarious games. Games that would no doubt be interrupted by his current adversary. Did he expect to be successful in each of his enterprising objectives? Of course not. They didn't all need to be triumphant, only a few. And that was what Nemesis was counting on. Hidden agendas within a multitude of possibilities. Whatever his final result would be was cleverly cloaked in the mass of expedient strategy.

"I want all the surplus weapons and armor loaded onto two of our ships. And prepare three more of our dropships with barrels on board with a contingent of Sith troopers on all three. They will depart shortly for government buildings, municipal locations, and other law and order institutions to bleed any reinforcements from the enemy." A burst of activity flourished under the gaze of his T-visor as his commands were obeyed. The giant form turned to one of the Ronin technicians. "I want a bypass for operations given to me. Power, production lines, security ... I want it all. I want to be able to trip a hardwired alarm at an exit door, or transmit sensitive codes along the internal servers. Go as far as placing a device that can pull a lever or push a button on different systems. I want autonomy." On the bottom of his HUD, the timer continued.

Then the doors opened, and several Ronin entered, escorting one of the Jedi who had attempted to infiltrate the facility. The human was young, around Nemesis's unknown age. He had a pale face, brown eyes, and tightly cropped hair slightly lighter than his gaze. Blood dripped from a broken nose and dribbled across the front of his tan robes. Scoured armor peeked beneath his garments as they shoved him into a chair, manacled hands before him. The Jedi was tall, only half a foot shorter than his own hulking frame. Trask, one of Nemesis' most trusted confidants, had clearly taken the challenge of capture personally. Nothing like two bulls of the same size rushing one another to prove their dominance. And Trask proved to be the victor. Nemesis looked down from where he stood as one of the Ronin handed him an exquisitely engraved cylinder. Slowly, the hilt was rolled between his fingers as he watched the Jedi with cobalt blue eyes and the Force. His other hand lightly tapped the belt around his waist. It was a waiting game, for he could sense power gathering in the young man. The wait was considerably shorter than he expected.

With a sudden motion, the Jedi leaped up into a backflip to land on a desk as the lightsaber flew from Nemesis's grasp. It ignited as he raised his hands, the emerald blade spinning through the chain of the manacle before landing in his freed palm. Then he lunged forward, driving a killing strike into the armored plates of Nemesis' chest. Right before the green blade would have touched the massive figure, it disappeared. A look of shock barely registered as Nemesis spun with his arm extended, violently clotheslining the Jedi, who flipped in the air and crashed on the gray carpet beneath them. A moan escaped as he was lifted telekinetically and slammed back onto the desk, papers, styluses, and tiny knicknacks flying from the impact.

"What happened to your lightsaber? It takes little enough effort to depress a button and turn a blade on. It takes the same amount of pressure to turn it off. And I drained the power cell. Next time, if there is a next time, control the lightsaber as much as you would your own body. It is supposed to be a part of you, not merely a tool." His massive gauntleted hand closed around the Jedi's neck, pinning the other man there while tightening. "Now, let us play a game. I'll ask a question, and you answer me truthfully. You lie, and this becomes considerably more unpleasant." The Jedi offered a rebellious, bloody smile in response.

Good. If it were easy, there would be no fun.

Nemesis moved his free hand along his belt, fingers lightly tapping as he entered the Jedi's mind. The first touch was powerful as the man clung to the energy flowing through him, drawn by the permeating presence of the lightside battle meditation. Without the waves of reserves flooding through the Jedi's form, it would have been a simple thing to overcome. But the connection of power created a barrier that took several moments for Nemesis to batter through before entering his mind. The Knight immediately threw psychic barriers around certain recent memories under the impression that Nemesis would seek out unknown information. However, much like his faceless adversary in the bowels of the industrial park, Nemesis allowed misconceptions and outright falsehoods to lead the Jedi to lend his strength and focus on priorities that were never his intention.

Memories were fortified against the encroachment, and rage at being denied filled the giant. Frustration, anger, fear of failure, and other overpowering emotions flooded through the mental assault. And still the Jedi resisted as a snarl flickered over his face. The battering ram of the Force smashed against the barriers, which shredded the looming figure's assault. Pieces of his imagined psychic tools were destroyed to lie cast aside in the Jedi's mind. With fury, an astral projection of his form rained blows on the closely guarded secrets held in a protective shield by the Jedi. The young man grinned with abandon, knowing he was overcoming his opponent's mighty, aggressive onslaught. Pride grew as he turned the tide, rage meeting cold fury as he pushed back. Nemesis faltered in the Jedi's mind, who took the offensive, allowing the knowledge he was on the right side to strengthen every strike. Murdered civilians, fallen brothers and sisters in the Order, dead Republic soldiers, and the monstrous sithspawn who ravaged the planet added fuel to the young man's power. And just as he raised his mental arms to vanquish the projection of Nemesis, it happened.

The darkside infected him at the intricate manipulations of Nemesis. Every emotion leached onto the Jedi. Every failed attempt by Nemesis only fueled his arrogance and hubris. The memories of the dead drew forth the dark rage, and the knowledge that he was about to defeat the giant at his own game drove him into an attack with no mercy, no empathy, no restrictions. The feelings swirled into the core of the Jedi, and as he struck, taking an overwhelming glee in the action, he fell to the dark side.

And Nemesis won.

It had never been about information. His only desire was to break the Jedi. To shatter the man until Nemesis could remold him into a tool of darkness. By tapping into the dark side of the Force, the light and power of the battle meditation disappeared. And Nemesis drove his consciousness forward to engulf the Jedi with his own darkness. There was no haven from the tendrils that infected and overwhelmed the Jedi. All he had been was stripped away, and Nemesis poured his ambition, drive, desire, fear, and rage into the young man, destroying who he once was and creating a simulacrum of his own distorted reflection. With grim satisfaction, Nemesis walked away from the broken man, discarded as a broken plaything, and moved to the view screens that still showed the working security systems and surveillance. "Get me eyes on the infiltrators. I want their location."

Several minutes passed until one of his commanders appeared at his side. The black beskar'gam that only a select few of his Ronin wore was gone. Instead, Trask wore the unconscious Jedi's armor and robes. Nemesis handed the man the lightsaber after having sent energy back into the power cell. "Go and see if you can find our uninvited guests." Without waiting for a response, Nemesis stepped onto the ladder and dropped to the duracrete floor beneath, his landing sending cracks radiating from around his armored boots. He toed the collected garments and weapons of the fallen Jedi and smirked at the imagery of the spoils of war.

The five ships were prepared for launch. Troops moved to their assigned shuttles, and the weapons and armor were loaded into the two of them with only a few Sith troopers onboard. Engines warmed in preparation. They would rain havoc down on the unsuspecting law enforcement, diplomats, ambassadors, and senators until nothing remained. The will of their Lord Leige would be obeyed, and none could stand in their way.

Inside the towers, the giant moved between the Ronin who continued their work. It was well that the troops could not see the giant's face. For it now wore the corruption of the dark side as he grinned. Soon the enemy would look for the architect of the many plans of the Sith known as Nemesis. The progenitor of the virus outbreak. The killer of twenty-five thousand. The one whose hand had closed on the throat of a single mother of three before life was snuffed away. What they would find would not be a wizened old crone. Nor would they find an average man with unimaginable ambition, with the power to take what he wanted. What they would find was a giant warrior filled with immense power and the dark side flooding through his veins like a drug that boosted strength and a sense of invulnerability. As always, the adversary was several steps behind and a dozen moves away from actually being relevant to the occasion. And should they ever arrive, the armored giant would prove why they never stood a chance.

And then things appeared to go awry.

"Reports of infected in the park!" The T-visor turned toward the man. Rage rolled from him as he waited for the trooper to do what was expected. "Uh, yes, containment protocols. Exterminate with extreme prejudice. Waste them. And then eviscerate what's left. Do not approach. I say again, do not approach." The hulking figure moved away until one of the view screens revealed a new scenario playing out under his gaze.

A figure of a big man in armor and robes ran into view, leaping over several barricades as he ran for one of the shuttles. Probably just a Republic commando. Robes didn't have to mean a Jedi ... Then a blue lightsaber sprang into existence to bat away several bolts directly to their origins. Troopers fell dead as the human continued to advance, the blue blade separating troopers from their weapons, from their limbs, and from their lives. The armored giant relayed a single command. "Launch!"

The five ships blasted from the pads and took to the air as landing ramps closed. The robed figure took a single moment to gather himself before leaping up to dive into one of the shuttles carrying weapons and armor. Another holocam flickered to life, showing the interior of the shuttle as the blue lightsaber cleaved through Sith troopers, then slashed an entrance into the cockpit. Another flicker revealed the man shoving the corpses of the pilots away from their seats before deactivating the lightsaber and taking the ship's controls. He pulled on a headset, then discarded it before pulling a comlink from the pockets of his robe. An open-frequency broadcast was sent amid a crackle of static.

"This is - - - Knight - - - Troigs. The industrial park in sector --- is overrun. Immediate a- - - -ce is needed. In pursuit of f - - - shut- - - . Do not, I say again, do not fire on shuttle numb- - - - - - -. Switching to frequency 14.6.3. My comlink is damag - - -. Engaging the enemy shuttles no-." As the message cut off, the shuttle spun and opened fire, downing two of the other ships before doing a barrel roll to acquire the third. Several shots holed the ship and sent it in a lazy spin toward the burning fields. Then it locked on to the last ship and accelerated. The two shuttles wove between buildings as the lead ship lined up for a ram maneuver on a large building near the edge of the city. The pursuing shuttle rose and slammed into the other, sending them both smashing onto a duracrete parking lot, tearing through several fences, and finally a wall.

Landing ramps lowered as security personnel spilled from the building. But before they could arrive, the disembarked troopers were felled by the blue lightsaber-wielding blur outlined only by his flashing Jedi robes. When the guards stopped nearby, the man turned a grimaced face to them and deactivated his blue lightsaber. Orders were given to raid the armory, prepare their own ships, and line up for more marching orders. They would soon be locked and loaded and ready to return to the industrial park. He did get a comlink from one and opened a channel to any operating Jedi, Republic, or Thyferrean forces nearby. Hopefully some commandos. That would be nice, he mused.

"This is Jedi Knight Troigs. I have landed at a prison filled with guards and other law enforcement personnel. We will lock down the prison, then load up to return to the industrial park. And we will punch our way in. Anyone who wants to join, respond to this frequency. Also, biological elements are in play. Act accordingly. Troigs out."

Back in the towers at the heart of the industrial park, the first crack in the armored giant's visage appeared as a massive armored fist slammed into a desk, destroying it as his frustration escaped in a howl. "Incompetence!" Meanwhile, Trask, dressed in the Jedi's robes and armor, wove through the factory and killed any unsuspecting interlopers with ease. He was dressed as a Jedi after all. The timer continued to tick.

3.32.15
3.32.14
3.32.13

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

NPC POST | CAHIR
​

Crossfire of red and blue scorched through the air around them as armored Republic Forces launched their counter offenses against the Sith, while all the while beneath them, the ground trembled. Cahir sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and waved what remained of his team forward, using his lightsaber to bat away any of the stray blaster bolts flying towards them.

“Move faster,” Cahir said gruffly, an urgency in his instruction that rarely surfaced, even in battle. There was something more desperate than usual mixed in with the darkness here, a poison that he hadn’t felt in other battles against the Sith, bolstered by the repeating chiming of his comms in his ears with each new report coming through. There were so many moving pieces, that it felt more like disorganized chaos than what he typically knew of their tactics. And he couldn’t determine if the Sith and their leaders were operating on pure impulse, or if they had something else up their sleeve that’d pull all of the pieces of the puzzle together.

Whatever they were trying to do, Cahir knew that the sooner they got out of the open and started moving this cache box to its next destination, the better. Let the bug pick apart whatever the Sith sealed inside. If anyone could figure out what they were dealing with, and give the Jedi or Republic some meaningful way to counter whatever came next, then it would be him.

Another tremor rolled beneath Cahir’s boots as another blast hit the ground, not too far from where they were standing this time — and much too close for comfort. His arm came up to instinctively shield his face from the debris scatter, lowering his arm only once it’d settled. His lips pulled to one side in a sideways frown. Something was stirring beneath the alazhi fields, and if it wasn’t for his own problem currently strapped to a repulsor shield, then he might have tried to investigate. As it was, there wasn’t the time for it.

The final restraint barely ratcheted into place when another series of reports populated Cahir’s display. The first of them might have been dismissed as battlefield confusion, but the second corroborated it. By the time the third observer described metallic protrusions breaking through the bodies of fallen soldiers, coincidence was no longer an explanation. Cahir opened a direct channel to Rik.

<< Commander, I’m getting observer reports of rising dead. >>

He signaled for his team to move as he waited for the response.

<< Zombies? >>

Cahir glanced across the field. Republic and Sith casualties lay scattered between the burning rows of the bacta fields, some of them partially concealed beneath the smoke, but none of what he could see were moving.

<< Negative, Commander, sightings range from metallic growths to what looks nothing like the deceased at all. I’ve been hearing conflicting descriptions of these sightings. No two have been alike. >>

The words sounded absurd even as Cahir spoke them. Necromancy would have been the simplest explanation, vile as it was, but not beneath what the Sith were willing to do, in his experiences. Another report flashed across his display, followed by another, and another.

<< Commander, almost all the reports I’m getting now are about this. It’s flooding out other intel. >>

Rik’s voice came through again: << Send me what you’ve gathered about it, but keep me updated. I'll corroborate with other sectors, see if anyone else is getting this. >>

Before he could respond with an affirmative, a priority alert shrieked through his earpiece, the direct channel with Rik distorting beneath the emergency override.

<< Mayday! Mayday! Republic medical transport, mercy four! We have hostile casualties aboard! Repeat! The casualties are at attacking the cr — >>

Blasterfire filled the rest of the frequency, followed by the sound of screams and deep, animalistic-snarls, before cutting out completely. The deafening roar of a high-pitched mechanical wail tore through the sky not a moment later, Cahir craning his neck to watch the transport careening overhead like a burning star, and heading straight towards them.

“EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY!”

But it was too late. The shuttle struck less than thirty meters from them, the undercarriage carving through the fields, throwing burning vegetation and tonnes of earth up into the air, the shockwave from impact lifting him and his comrades along with it. Something struck his head as he hit the ground, and the battlefield went black. Awareness returned in waves. Sound was the first of his senses to return, though it’d been reduced to a single piercing note ringing continually through his skull. Light followed in broken flashes, followed by the acrid smell of smoke.

He tried to breathe, tried to move, but pain speared so swiftly through his side that he nearly blacked out again. His body felt numb all over, and as his hand skimmed down his torso, he felt a jagged piece of metal sticking out from the armor beneath the ribs. Blood soaked through the fabric around it, warm against his hands. He tried to not think about it, searching for the aquata breather still clipped to his harness. Training overcame disorientation, and he forced the mouthpiece between his teeth before drawing several shallow breaths, trying to force his vision to focus. The container laid on its side several meters away. Half its lid torn from the hinges, and his team—

A wet, irregular scraping drew his attention.

One of his fellow Vanguards laid beneath a section of the shuttle’s plating. From what he could see, the impact had crushed his chest and taken most of one leg. A figure from the medical transport crouched over the body and for a moment, hope filled him, thinking that perhaps one of their Jedi healers had come to help. That idea died almost as quickly as it'd been born, watching in abject horror as the figure plunged a cluster of metallic tendrils into the dead operative’s throat. The corpse shook and convulsed as black growths branched beneath its skin, spreading upward across the jaw and downward into the shattered chest. Armor buckled outward as something constructed itself inside the dead man, weaving flesh, bone, and machinery together.

Cahir’s hand moved instinctively toward his lightsaber, but it was gone. Likely lost when he'd been thrown. Another shape staggered through the smoke.

The second member of his team still wore Vanguard armor. Cahir recognized the markings across the breastplate and the utility pouch hanging from the belt, but there was nothing left to recognize above the shoulders. The operative’s face had split apart around a twisted metallic structure. One arm hung longer than the other, newly formed joints flexing as the fingers fused together into a serrated blade.

“Force help us…”

The transformed operative stopped. So did the creature crouching over the other body.

From within the burning transport came the shriek of metal being forced aside. More figures dragged themselves from the ruptured hull, their bodies reshaping into forms no natural creature could have possessed. Every one of them turned toward Cahir at precisely the same moment.
The light finally clicked on in his head.

No two descriptions had been alike, because no two transformations were the same. Cahir shakily reached for his communicator with blood-slick fingers, the device sparking when he touched it, forcing him to strike its casing against the ground before the display came alive. He cursed beneath his breath as he worked to reopen the direct channel, switching his armors field recorder from local storage to live, continuous transmission.

<< Rik. >>

The name came out raggedly through the breather as he tried to angle the recorder towards the downed wreckage, the bodies scattered around the ground, and those malformed creatures dragging themselves from it and coming towards him.

<< I’m sending you a live feed. Mercy Four is down. The container has been breached. My team is gone. >>

The first transformed operative stepped toward him.

<< The reports were right. The dead are changing. >>

Cahir closed his eyes.

He had spent his life thinking of the Force as something to be directed. A current to enter, understand, and guide without ever believing it belonged to him. Now, with death approaching, he stopped trying to direct it and instead opened himself completely. The pain remained, but it no longer frightened him. Neither did the shapes closing around him, nor the infection that might already be threading itself through his blood. He felt the burning fields, the frightened soldiers, and the distant lights of other Jedi scattered throughout the conflict. He felt Briana’s meld stretched across them all and reached through it, not to draw upon their strength, but to offer what remained of his own. His presence began to burn.

Golden light gathered beneath his skin, first in the veins of his hands and then throughout his broken body. It spilled from his wounds without blood or heat, shining through the cracks in his armor until the creatures surrounding him recoiled.

His eyes opened, blazing like the bright twin suns of Tatooine. Golden fire erupted from the Jedi, the radiance of the lightside spreading, rolling outward in a widening front, like dawn breaking across the contaminated field. It poured itself through the ruptured transport, the scattered casualties, and the twisted things still crawling from its interior. Corrupted flesh burned away. Metallic limbs glowed white before dissolving into molten ruin. Bodies that’d only begun to change were consumed before they could rise. Still, Cahir pushed farther than he ever had before.

His cells began to fail beneath the strain of it. His heartbeat faltered, slowed, every limb growing colder. Yet the Force continued to work through him, sustained by nothing except his refusal to leave the work unfinished. Across the Jedi meld, Cahir became impossible to overlook, a single presence expanding until it seemed, for one incandescent moment, to rival the light stretched across the battlefield.

His communicator slipped from fingers that were no longer entirely solid.

<< Rik, >> Cahir whispered. << Make sure they know we held. >>

And with that breath, the last of his strength passed into the light, the Jedi’s work done as his body dissolved from the edges inward, armor falling empty as flesh became radiant motes. His presence gave one final bursting flare, and then it was gone, the Golden Flash collapsing with him, as quickly as it’d come on. Ash drifted down in the aftermath, lazily floating over the molten remnants where the transformed had gathered seconds prior, while the cache container lay broken at the center of it all.

Across the open channel and feed, nothing but silence.

Spoiler

Actions taken in this post:

1. Rik Receives Cahir’s reports about the rising dead, followed by a live visual feed showing Mercy Four crashed, and Cahir’s team transformed. Rik hears Cahir’s final words and witnesses the Golden Flash through the feed before it goes dark/silent.

2. Cahir pushes himself to his limit and sacrifices the last of himself to clear his immediate vicinity via Golden Flash, burning up most of the infected who were still left in the transport, or around the area, that hadn’t escaped yet, or managed to spread out. Jedi/others nearby would have been able to see this as a large flash of light. The area around there has been decimated/burned up completely. Cahir has officially become one with the Force.

3. One of the Sith containers has been officially opened up, due to the crashing vessel.

TAG: Rik Perris / Anyone in the fields.

Note: All of Rik's dialogue was worked out and added into this post, with permission from the writer.
​

​

​

 

[Rik Perris]

BACTA REFINERIES — INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX & REFINERIES
THYFERRA

CELESTIAL RESONANCE
​

Updates began to roll in about accomplished objectives and intel gathered from contact with the enemy, while Rik continued gauging the Sith through the metaphysical plane, attempting to get a fuller picture of the miasma of darkness that was going to be bearing down on the two Jedi. What he wasn’t expecting to pick up on was a vague familiarity he couldn’t place. There was no Sith he could think of that held that distinction.

His brows lifted in faint surprise, still enveloped in the serene trance as he was, yet before he could dwell much further upon it, the picture split; now there are two of them? Nothing about this was out of hand when Thyferra was crawling with, no, inundated by such filth, but how did he miss that? Another moment of focus spoke of the difference between them in strength, the sheer difference. Enough, perhaps, for one to have blotted out the other on his initial pass. Master and apprentice…?

Fingers pressed to the earbud again.

<< Command, here. Senses are picking up a second Darkwalker. Please confirm. >>

There was restrained fear in the voice that replied to him, and it wasn’t one of his immediate subordinates. The very first confirmation that something had gone wrong.

<< Affirmative, Commander, >> a pause followed, after which the voice continued, picking up speed and panic as the Vanguard soldier continued, << I don’t… I don’t know what it’s done to the others, but they… didn’t scream, sir. They’re burnt husks and they didn’t scream! They— >>

The line melted and died abruptly, and Rik shot his attention back to that distanced assessment of the two Sith in the Force, but the picture remained the same as before. He breathed in and out, less slowly than he had at first, the serenity he’d been holding for the past several minutes straining with this new development. The revitalisation of his partner ceased, his hand slipping from Briana’s shoulder.

The other hand lowered from his ear as he continued to rein himself back into that utmost serene state and began to work through what he now knew. They kept close a guard that appeared to be in some way separate from the legion. One Sith was stronger than the other, and the other was some kind of fireshaper, but something wasn’t adding up. Unfortunately, they’d have to wait and see what that unknown variable was.

One thing was for certain, though: between the different metrics of his sheer strength and experience, and his own status as a fireshaper, Rik was the more well equipped of him and the Knight beside him to handle the two Sith heading here. At least individually. But the decision was made for him by those same metrics, for Briana was no shaper, prompting him to reach for a pouch on his belt.

However, Rik only got as far as grasping the pouch before the bud in his ear came alive with the voice of one of the other Knights, Cahir.

<< Commander, I’m getting observer reports of rising dead. >>

The Corellian released the pouch with tentative slowness, leaving it where it was. Rising dead provoked a few thoughts—some unfortunate, other suppositions—and sent his hand to the earbud once again.

<< Zombies? >>

A Necromancer was the simplest explanation, and one that gave Rik a mild pang of disgust. It was vile and disrespectful. The dead were to be left alone, by his own ethos, and he imagined most if not all Jedi would agree, and a great deal of regular people, too.

<< Negative, Commander, sightings range from metallic growths to what looks nothing like the deceased at all. I’ve been getting conflicting descriptions from these sightings. No two have been alike. >>

Rik thought for a moment. Cahir prompted again, an urgency to his tone, before that moment passed.

<< Commander, almost all the reports I’m getting now are about this. It’s flooding out other intel. >>

Multiple reports, something that was changing the dead, and the sinking feeling he was getting from the realisation that this might be something he’d only ever heard of, or read about. But assumptions could be just as dangerous.

The Lightbound Guardian knew it could be worse, but whatever the balance of his agreement or disagreement with his comrades in the Vanguard’s silencing of their informant, it was not only operationally prudent, but secured the escape of a large percentage of the population and the entrenchment of the Vanguard’s presence here, ahead of the arrival of the invasion force. Just barely.

Vanguard had been, he had been, boots to ground nearly a dozen hours before the Sith encroached on this crucial world, imploring citizens to flee their homes with the cold truth of what could befall them if they did not—death, service to the ever-hungering Maw of the Sith, or worse—but time nonetheless bled away.

Some did not get free of Thyferra’s orbit, before ships came pouring out of the Blackwall. Some never left the ground, or refused to abandon their homes and were being compelled to fight for their survival by other Jedi… or were paying the price forced upon them for that decision to remain: defilement, a kind of sick servitude.

Rik reached once again for the pouch, not so serene, yet solemn, and pulled it away from his belt. The thought of what was still to come hadn’t left his thoughts entirely.

<< Send me what you’ve gathered about it, but keep me updated. I'll corroborate with other sectors, see if anyone else is getting this. >>

Gently he grasped Briana's nearest hand, placed the pouch in it, and was closing her fingers around it, but once again, the comm crackled alive in his ear, almost making him recoil from a sudden priority alert. The affirmative from Cahir never arrived.

<< Mayday! Mayday! Republic medical transport, Mercy Four! We have hostile casualties aboard! Repeat! The casualties are at attacking the cr —>>

Rik went from solemn to alert, tensing as his face turned skyward, listening for the impact, which came moments later from the very slice of his overwatch that he’d just been talking to. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks, and he released the trance of Serenity, no longer able to maintain it.

“Cahir…” He near-mouthed as his gaze dropped away from the sky, his brows pulling together, eyes slipping shut for a moment. The Togruta was a brother, alike in views and purpose, unable to sit idly by while the Sith ran unchecked, consuming everything within reach. Rik had come to know Cahir throughout the war with those who became the Alliance’s undoing. His only hope was that this death of a comrade would be the first and last in this operation.

But as it would turn out, the Force wasn’t done with his brother-in-arms yet.

After a handful of minutes, his comm display popped up a notification about the reception of a bulk file, and a live armour feed opened over top of it. Operational procedure limited this specific use of the armour recorder to the request for it by commanders; local storage was synced where possible. But when he heard Cahir’s ragged voice, and saw just what his friend was showing him, whatever will he might’ve had to enforce that fled, and the realisation of what this was caused him to make sure the recording was retained.

<< Rik. >>

He saw the crash site, heard the drag of his brother’s breathing in his earbud as the feed panned over Vanguard bodies, and the creatures ambling to approach the perspective of the field recorder on Cahir’s armour. The scant discussion he’d had with Cahir hardly scratched the surface of the horror Rik was seeing now. The Commander had no words. The friend had no wish to waste the precious little time that remained.

<< I’m sending you a live feed. Mercy Four is down. The container has been breached. My team is gone. >>

An operative wearing Vanguard armour, transformed to such an extent that he could not recognise who this one had once been, stepped towards Cahir.

<< The reports were right. The dead are changing. >>

A golden light began to creep into the edges of the feed, and soon overtook it, a cleansing fire that burned away the contamination and corruption, cleansing everything in its wake. A sacrifice, chosen, an illumination that marked his life, spread across the web of connections, wholly pushing back the darkness across the Jedi meld for that one, singular moment.

<< Rik, >> Cahir whispered << Make sure they know we held. >>

And then the feed fell silent.

"I will, my friend. I will."

A full minute passed before Rik cut the recording and closed the connection in his own vigil of silence for the brother who had passed into the Force.

The Jedi?

He would not seek vengeance, but if even only a few of those bastard Sith fell, the scales still wouldn’t be balanced.

LOADOUT
TEMPLAR-Class Jedi War Plate • 2 x Jedi Imbued Kolcta Grenades • 1x PGEM "Gravetail" Vibroblade
1x Crystal Cage (Perms) • 1x Blue-Bladed Lightsaber

ALLIES
Briana Sal-Soren

THE WOFL AND THE BEANPOLE
Gerwald Lechner • Varin Mortifer​

 

[Seraphina Corvinus]

WEAPONS: None
ALLIES: Daegon Corvinus | TAG: Jaun Smyth | ENEMIES: Everyone (Crack in the sidewalk...?)

"No. This is not punishment, Sera. Punishment would imply that you, or the people in those villages, had done something to deserve this. They haven't."

Distantly…Sera knew that Daegon was right. There was just an odd feeling, a pit in her stomach, that refused to leave. He wasn’t the only one who remembered when the Confederacy of Independent Systems had claimed Thyferra. It was in defense of the droid nation that she had lost her sight. With that in mind…She also remembered Srina Talon among many others.

She couldn't reconcile the idea of the former Exarch being the current Sith Empress of the Order. The Echani had been blunt and fierce…But the two titles…She couldn’t mash them together in any way that made sense. Though…Perhaps that was the sin.

For not openly choosing her.

Seraphina didn’t apologize again for making him come to find her and resolved to just accept the blessing of being found. He had her. It was asserted with such certainty that the winged woman willed herself to believe that nothing else mattered, even while the world continued to quake around them. When he told her that she had nothing to apologize for, her pixie-like features pinched a little—But eventually, she sighed and let it go.

Daemon was too stubborn to let her accept fault, even if she had been the one in the wrong.

Her fingers remained tucked away in his arm when he guided her back through the Crystal Forest. The corrections he made to her wobbly steps were patient and kind, nothing like the Tyrant-Lord of the Xucphra Corporation. His assistants were used to his ever-evolving moods and often did their best to time reports when Sera was around. Failure could result in a small but heartfelt pep talk from her, instead of being fired immediately by him.

They feared her husband…But she never had.

She was quiet, if a little pensive, when he told her they were going to see Senator Smyth. The vibrant woman understood very little of Republic preparedness, military intelligence, or what anyone had known before warships arrived. But she understood the fields and villages…She knew the people who depended upon both, and also knew that some of them would never see tomorrow. It made her heart ache…But she had already wept once.

"But I want you there with me."

“Me?”

There was something heartbreakingly sincere in that small question, and her wings fluttered while her love explained. That she saw things differently. Despite everything, the faintest shy smile pressed into the kiss of her mouth. “That’s a strange thing to say to your blind wife…”

Trying to lighten the tightness she felt in her chest. But…She knew what he meant. The exceedingly delicate woman would follow him anywhere he wished. To that end, their transport was arranged easily enough. There were guards on all sides, but sound painted the world for Sera whether she wanted it to or not. A ship screamed somewhere overhead, too low and too damaged, its shape briefly forming in the trembling air before it vanished behind another concussion.

Later on came something worse while they were forced to avoid wreckage after wreckage in the hovercraft. There was a scraping sound, metal over stone, and an uneven rhythm beneath the noise of battle. Sera turned her head toward it with a quiet click of her tongue. The echo returned from a distance with a silhouette that made no sense. It was way too tall and bent somewhere that a person should not bend.

She stopped breathing for a second.

“Daegon…We should stay away from there. I don’t think it’s a person…”

The Diathim did not click again while they passed by…She did not want to know any more than she already did. It made her skin crawl, whatever it was, and something told her the metal and transparisteel of the transport did not make them safe.

By the time they reached Senator Smyth's offices, she had grown unusually quiet. The military presence was impossible to miss. Heavy boots and noisy equipment with voices colliding over one another with austere severity. When Daegon spoke with the Senator and made it clear that she had questions of her own, Seraphina bit her lower lip before turning to face where she thought the representative of the High Republic stood.

“Senator…”, she started, her voice so sweetly gentle in comparison to Daegon that it hardly seemed real. The fact that she had made it from point A to point B in what she assumed to be utter chaos was a miracle in itself. “Please forgive me…I don't know what questions I'm supposed to ask about armies.”

Sera paused for a moment, and iridescent wings closed around her shoulders like a cloak. Everything about her…Did not fit in here. She was too soft, too gentle.

“But I would like to know about the villages and the families near the fields. They are not prepared for invasion.”, Seraphina murmured, swallowing hard when that word came up. It was so very foreign to her. “I was under the impression that the Republic controlled this sector. If the people are being moved, where are they going? And if they aren’t being moved…Why not?”

She genuinely did not understand this world of men, weapons, and politics. Like Daegon…She had a million other questions, but this seemed like a good start.

Suddenly, the ground shook beneath his feet. Jaun frowned. Odd. That didn't feel like a turbolaser strike. Jaun shrugged.

Sera tucked further into Daegon, heart hammering. There was certainly military action taking place, but what did that actually mean? Where did that leave their people with burning fields and imminent danger? She had taken the good intentions of the High Republic on faith…

What reason had she to doubt?

Had she been too naïve?

Wrong?

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Briana made no sound when Cahir's light went out.

One moment, his presence burned among the others she held within her meditation web, and the next, it vanished like a torch swallowed beyond the horizon. The absence he left behind rang through their connection more loudly than any death cry, but at the end of that, there was some modicum of peace, a sense of wholeness as he merged with the Force.

Her fingers wrapped and tightened gently around Rik’s hand. She knew that he'd only meant to press the pouch into her palm before he left, but then he'd lingered, and each of them held for a heartbeat longer than necessary, letting the small point of contact steady them both.

She'd known this was going to be a painful day, that it was always darkest before dawn. But if they surrendered themselves to that darkness now, who then would take their places? What innocent would be charged next to carry the light forward and bare that torch?

'We cannot give in to grief now,' Briana sent through the space between herself and Rik. 'There will be time to mourn our fallen later. Right now, the living still need us. Go.'

Her thumb brushed once across his knuckles before she released him, curling her hand around the crystals that he'd charged with his own unshakeable will beforehand, and was now leaving in her care.

'Cut off those Sith.'

While Cahir's troop successfully funneled the Sith commander right toward them, the sudden, unexpected appearance of a second Sith had changed everything about their initial plan. Rik was forced to break away and intercept the new arrival, and she knew she couldn't keep the massive mental weight of the meditation afloat, and face what was coming, alone.

'Go,' she urged Rik again, more forcefully this time, 'I’ve got this.'

OUTFIT: XoXo | ALLY: Rik Perris | ENEMY: Gerwald Lechner
EQUIPMENT: Jumpsuit, Astor Daary's Blade, Springloaded Gauntlets, Echo Stone, Force Blinding Flash Bang, Jedi Imbued Kolcta Grenades x2, Lightsaber, Crystal Cage (Perms)
​

 

[Makko Vyres]

SHIELD | ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | DRONES | SHIP | PISTOL​

Allies: Mantys Thranx
Enemies: Open

The Anzati tech, Rarkos, swallowed thickly. "We...we can't do much if we don't have access to the vat in the first place." Dr. Thranx hummed before bobbing his head in agreement. "Yes, yes," he said. "You are right. Where is that Jedi fellow? What was his name? May-co?" He tapped a spiny arm to his mandible. "Someone, please find Jedi May-co. We are in need of his superior slicing capabilities."

"It's mah-co," Makko snapped at the lab assistant.

Makko had been in the laboratory for less than an hour, but the systems already felt familiar under his hands. Years as a net runner on Denon had left him with an instinct for circuitry that no amount of formal Jedi training had ever dulled. Technology answered him the way the Force answered others. He did not merely interface with it. He lived inside it.

The moment Mantys called for him, Makko moved to the reinforced control pedestal set against the far wall. He had prepared this contingency himself the previous day: a hard physical disconnect designed to protect the facility’s most critical systems from remote compromise.

Without a word he reached for the heavy mechanical lever mounted beside the primary terminal cluster and pulled it down in one clean motion.

A series of relays clunked deep inside the bulkheads. External communications dropped first. Then wireless networking collapsed across every frequency the laboratory and adjoining storage sectors still used. Uplink beacons went dark. Any residual mesh connections that might have allowed lateral movement from outside the facility were severed at the source.

In the language of the old net-running underworld on Denon, he had just executed a hard network isolation. External command-and-control channels were denied. Ingress and egress pathways were cut. The local systems were now effectively air-gapped from anything beyond the sealed laboratory walls.

Makko turned back to the main displays, already reaching out with mechu-deru. He was now the interface between his own links to Republic networks and local systems and he would take a concerted effort to compromise.

"External links are down," he said, eyes fixed on the cascading status lights. "Restoring operational technology systems."

The communication systems were still active. The offline backup systems had networking to move remote copies. The communications systems were running.

However, the operational networks that made the laboratory and factory work were not running on entirely isolated and wired operational networks to remove outside interference. The break was physical and not possible to reconnect remotely.




Then the wider contamination reports began flooding his brutal link to the command and control networks. The nanovirus imprint Mantys’s team had captured was only one piece.

The rest of the data painted a far uglier picture: staged biological payloads, metallic integration, and a reanimation trigger that activated the moment a host died.

He settled deeper into the Force and let mechu-deru unfurl through every diagnostic system still under their control.

Makko’s first move was identification. The techno virus was both something he could feel through mechu deru and then the dark side signature.

Makko swore under his breath

 

[Taiia Locke]

//: Allyson Locke //:
//: Darth Prazutis //:

​

Taiia had known something was wrong before the device ever chimed. Allyson had been beside her on the beach, her hand comfortably intertwined with Taiia's, but her attention had wandered somewhere far beyond Naboo. It was in the little things, pauses that lingered a little too long, the way her eyes occasionally drifted toward nothing before returning with a smile that almost convinced her. Taiia noticed it all, but she didn't press.

Then came the familiar chime.

Taiia's attention shifted immediately toward the device, watching the change pass over her wife's face. Whatever warmth had remained from their quiet afternoon disappeared beneath something far more familiar, something Taiia had seen countless times before when duty reached out and demanded Allyson's attention. This time, though, something else lay beneath it: an urgency that immediately drew a faint crease between Taiia's brows.

"Allyson..."

The kiss interrupted whatever question might have followed. Taiia returned it without hesitation, her hands settling naturally against her wife, but the tenderness only made what she felt more obvious. Allyson held her differently, kissed her differently, as though she were trying to fit everything she could not say into one brief moment.

"Go to Corellia, then head back to Odessen."

The kiss that followed stole whatever remained of Taiia's uncertainty. There was desperation in it, something almost frightened in the way Allyson held onto her, and when they finally parted, Taiia's hands remained gently wrapped around her wrists.

"Min Larel..."

"Please, follow the plan."

Taiia looked into her eyes for a long moment before Allyson leaned forward and placed another kiss against her brow.

"I'll come home, I promise."

Her expression softened, though the worry beneath it remained. Taiia knew that promise. More importantly, she knew Allyson well enough to understand why she had felt the need to make it.

"You had better."

The words came quietly as her hands slipped down into Allyson's, holding them for another moment before Taiia leaned forward and kissed her again. There was nothing desperate in hers, only the slow tenderness she hoped Allyson might carry with her wherever she was going. When she drew back, her hand lingered against the Corellian's cheek.

"I love you."

Taiia did not try to stop her. Whatever waited beyond Naboo had already claimed Allyson's attention, and attempting to force her to remain would only turn their final moments together into an argument neither of them wanted. She watched until Allyson disappeared, remaining there on the beach for some time afterward with the sound of the water moving quietly behind her, then her gaze lowered toward the ring upon her hand.

There were certain advantages to being married to someone who had made a career out of disappearing. Taiia felt for the familiar connection between the pair of rings, faint at first and then unmistakable once she focused upon it. Allyson could hide herself from sensors, disappear within the Force and lose almost anyone who tried to follow her, but the rings had never been meant for anyone else. They had been made for them.

She already knew where Allyson was headed.

She had been following the connection between their rings from the moment Allyson left Naboo; something about their goodbye had refused to settle within her. The distance between them continued to grow, the faint pull shifting across the stars. She did not know what waited there, or what had drawn Allyson to the planet, or what she intended to do once she arrived. None of that mattered; only one thing did. Through their bond, she could feel the fear and anger rolling through in waves.

The realization settled heavily in Taiia's chest as she looked down at the ring upon her hand. Allyson had hidden it well on Naboo, buried beneath kisses and reassurances and one more promise that she would come home, but Taiia knew her too well. Whatever waited on Thyferra had frightened her enough that she had tried to send Taiia as far away from it as possible.

Her fingers curled slowly around the ring. Allyson had promised she would come home, and Taiia believed her. But believing in her wife had never meant leaving her to face whatever frightened her alone. Taiia reached for the navicomputer before Corellia had even come into view. The plotted course vanished beneath her fingers, replaced moments later by a new destination.

Thyferra.

If Allyson was afraid, Taiia wanted to be beside her.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
ALLIES: Srina Talon | Mercy | Taeli Raaf | Darth Prazutis | Varin Mortifer | CT-312 | Tobias Dib
ENEMIES: Briana Sal-Soren | Rik Perris

The command net had become increasingly unreliable as Gerwald advanced with the Dreadguard. Static chewed through reports while Republic interference reached deeper into Sith communications and hostile slicers contested access to the refinery systems. The Second Legion had not been silenced, but commanders were repeating orders and transmissions were arriving in fragments. For someone coordinating an assault spread across miles of burning farmland and industrial infrastructure, Gerwald found the uncertainty more irritating than the interference itself. He could compensate for bad information. He could not compensate for information that never reached him.

Gerwald slowed beneath the haze while the report continued. Republic forces had opened the container, and whatever uncertainty remained about its contents had disappeared with horrifying speed. Casualties were changing. Some exhibited metallic growths while others became things the reporting officer struggled to describe. Dead men were moving again in bodies that scarcely resembled what they had been. Worse, a Republic medical transport had taken contaminated casualties aboard before going down, and the team responsible for reaching the container had been lost.

The Dread Wolf looked toward the refinery while the implications settled over him.

The weapon worked.

He had known what the Sith brought to Thyferra. He had understood what opening those containers could unleash, but knowledge conceived aboard a warship was different from hearing another soldier struggle to describe what remained of people afterward. Gerwald felt no satisfaction in the confirmation. He had ordered horrors onto this world because he believed they served the Sith purpose, and he would not retreat from responsibility simply because that purpose had acquired faces.

Further reports described Republic forces sealing roads and industrial corridors around contaminated sectors. Gerwald understood the response immediately. Containment would cost the defenders soldiers, equipment, and attention they could no longer direct against the wider invasion. It was an advantage purchased through something monstrous, but pretending otherwise would not make the dead whole again.

A priority signal broke through the interference.

Srina Talon wanted his assessment.

"Surface assault remains active," Gerwald reported while continuing forward. "Aurek-Seven was breached by Republic forces. The agent is active, and they are already diverting resources into containment. Remaining payloads have been dispersed and rerouted. Their interference is degrading communications and industrial access, but the Second Legion remains operational. The Shadow Hand opened another approach toward the refinery, and we are exploiting it."

Another transmission followed before the channel could close, this one carrying Taeli Raaf's identifier and the highest priority designation.

Gerwald listened.

The Grace of Theed had become a void in the Force.

Taeli's message was precise. Republic forces had deployed some form of suppression aboard the vessel, enough to erase its presence from Force perception entirely. She warned that additional devices might exist elsewhere and advised preparation before the Sith encountered the same problem on the surface.

Gerwald said nothing for several seconds after the message ended.

Of course Taeli had found it first.

The thought carried no bitterness, though it did pull at an older disagreement between them. Gerwald and Taeli Raaf had not always shared the same instinct for how the Sith should wage this war. She favored control measured carefully enough to preserve what could still be used. Gerwald had argued more often for pressure, violence, and the kind of overwhelming momentum that denied an enemy time to recover or adapt.

Neither approach had ever been as simple as the other might have made it sound.

Thyferra was proving that now.

The biological weapon spreading behind him represented Gerwald's philosophy taken to one extreme. The Grace of Theed represented something else entirely. The Republic had apparently found a way to strip Sith of one of the very things that made them what they were, and Taeli had recognized the danger before anyone else could dismiss it as another battlefield anomaly.

Gerwald had disagreed with her often enough. He was not foolish enough to ignore her when she was right.

He opened the wider Sith command channel.

"Force suppression has been confirmed aboard the Grace of Theed. Lady Raaf believes additional devices may exist. Assume she is correct until proven otherwise. Maintain conventional command, targeting, and communications capability. If the Force disappears, the operation does not."

The warning traveled outward through whatever portions of the network remained intact.

That possibility sat poorly with him for reasons extending beyond simple power. The Howl connected Gerwald to the Dreadguard in ways conventional orders never could. Losing it in the middle of an assault would mean suddenly reaching for warriors whose presence had become instinctive and finding only silence.

Gerwald did not fear the silence. He simply respected what it could cost.

Once, as Lord Commander, he had led armies without relying upon the Force to hold every formation together. He had commanded men through collapsing fronts, failed plans, broken communications, and battles where instinct had to surrender to discipline. If the Republic intended to turn the Force itself into a weakness, Gerwald would make certain the Second Legion remembered how to fight without it.

Ahead, intermittent blasterfire flashed through the smoke.

Vanguard pressure remained concentrated along the edges of the Second Legion advance, but Gerwald had already denied the Republic the prize of funneling his entire force into the route left open before him. Armor and payloads continued along alternate approaches, reserves remained available to support threatened operations, and decoys gave Republic observers more targets than certainty.

Only Gerwald and the Dreadguard continued along the path prepared for them.

As they advanced, another presence beneath the conventional battle became harder to ignore. The Light remained woven through the defenders with a cohesion that smoke, jamming, and broken terrain should have made impossible. Connections stretched outward through the Force, carrying resolve between distant positions before drawing back toward something ahead.

Gerwald touched the edge of that web without attacking it.

Whoever maintained it possessed remarkable discipline. He could feel strength buried beneath the multitude of lives connected to the greater presence, though its identity remained obscured. Then another dark presence shifted elsewhere across the battlefield, and one of the Jedi presences ahead moved away to meet it.

The web remained.

So did whoever stood at its center.

Gerwald continued toward them, increasingly curious about the person who had managed to make an army feel, for however briefly, like one living thing.

The smoke began to thin as the Dreadguard reached the far end of the approach, leaving the refinery structures more clearly visible beyond the battered ground. Gerwald's hand rested near his lightsaber as shapes resolved through the haze, one remaining where the presence woven throughout the battlefield seemed strongest.

Recognition came slowly, then all at once.

Gerwald stopped.

For a moment, the refinery disappeared. The burning Alazhi fields disappeared with it, replaced by another world beneath attack and another version of himself standing beneath a banner that had long since fallen.

Naboo.

Briana had been little more than a girl then, caught in a war she had not chosen while Gerwald still carried the authority of Lord Commander. Valery Noble had been with her, and Gerwald remembered the urgency of getting them clear before whatever remained of the battle swallowed them with everything else. He had not considered it remarkable at the time. They needed to escape. He had been in a position to ensure they did.

So he had.

Gerwald had carried many memories from those years with him. He had simply never expected one of them to be standing at the end of a road deliberately carved through his army.

The realization settled heavily.

He had once looked upon an invasion of Naboo and understood exactly where his place was. Whatever failures belonged to the Confederacy, whatever compromises had come before or after, there had been no uncertainty in that moment. A world was under attack. People needed protecting. Briana needed to survive long enough to become whatever came afterward.

Now Thyferra burned behind him.

The smoke rolling across the refinery approaches belonged partly to missiles fired from his own ship. The dead beginning to change across the battlefield could trace their horror back to weapons his forces had carried onto the planet. Behind him marched soldiers who answered to the Dread Wolf, while somewhere beyond them the Second Legion continued carrying his orders deeper into a world that had once benefited from the protection of another nation Gerwald had served.

There was no comfortable way to pretend the symmetry was not there.

He wondered, briefly, what Briana saw when she looked at him.

Whether she remembered Naboo at all. Whether she remembered the Lord Commander who had helped her and Valery escape, or whether that man had become so distant from the one standing before her that the distinction no longer mattered.

Perhaps it shouldn't.

Gerwald had made his choices long before Thyferra, just as Briana had made hers. Saving her life had never purchased anything from her. It had not earned loyalty, gratitude, or hesitation now that they stood beneath opposing banners. He had helped her because it had been the right thing to do at the time, and if some part of him had expected the memory to make what came next easier, the sight of her proved otherwise.

If anything, it made it worse.

The girl from Naboo had survived.

She had grown into someone capable of reaching across a battlefield and lending her strength to others while an invasion closed around them. Whatever else Gerwald might think of the Jedi or the Republic she served, there was something painfully familiar in that.

Something he could respect.

His thumb rested against the ignition of his lightsaber without pressing it.

"Briana."

Her name carried more quietly than an order needed to. Gerwald could still hear the fighting beyond them, the crack of blasterfire and distant detonations rolling through a world his soldiers were tearing apart, but none of it managed to make this meeting feel inevitable.

Years ago, he had done everything in his power to make certain Briana Sal-Soren escaped an invasion alive. Now she stood between him and the success of one he commanded.

Gerwald finally ignited the blade, crimson light cutting through the smoke between them as the Dreadguard settled behind their commander. He did not rush her. For several seconds the Dread Wolf simply stood there, looking at the woman the frightened teenager from Naboo had become and allowing the weight of that history to exist between them.

"So this is where we find each other again."

There was regret in the words, though none for the path that had brought him to Thyferra. Gerwald had chosen that path knowingly, and he would not insult Briana by pretending otherwise. What he regretted was simpler than that.

Of all the people who could have been waiting for him at the end of this road, it had been someone he once fought to save.

 

[Kadeon Virell]

Objective: Hold the Line
Location: Zaltin Production District, Thyferra
Outfit: Combat Ready
Equipment: Double-bladed lightsaber - Twin Verdict
Tag: Darth Tormenta

The first thing Kade noticed was that she was huge.

Not metaphorically. Not some oppressive presence in the Force making the Sith seem larger than she actually was. She was just huge.

Kade stood six-three and weighed enough that most people reconsidered trying to physically overpower him. The woman emerging from the smoke made him look almost reasonably sized by comparison. His grin widened. "Oh, this should be fun."

That probably wasn't the proper Jedi reaction. Kade had accepted there were going to be a lot of those. His eyes briefly shifted beyond her. The people accompanying the Sith weren't what he'd expected either. Pirates, judging by the complete lack of uniformity, but not the ragged collection of idiots he normally associated with the word. Their weapons were maintained. Their movements were purposeful. They separated into smaller units instead of blindly following their leader toward the Jedi. Kade filed that away.

Then his attention returned entirely to the woman before him. He felt the temperature dropping before he saw the frost. His breath became visible. Ice crept across the ground between them, spreading over ferrocrete and debris as a thin mist began gathering around their position. "Okay. That's new."

Twin Verdict rotated once in his hands. Only one side of her saberstaff was burning. Kade's eyes flicked toward the unlit emitter and then back to her face. Seriously? She was sandbagging him? His competitive streak immediately took offense. "Only one blade?" Kade called through the growing cold. "Come on. At least pretend you're taking me seriously."

Then she moved. Fast. Kade's smile vanished. Twin Verdict snapped upward. Green crashed against her blade as Kade caught the opening strike, immediately discovering that the difference in size wasn't cosmetic. Force traveled down the staff and into his shoulders. He pivoted rather than trying to absorb it directly, letting the strike slide from his blade before the second attack came.

Crack.

Another block. Another adjustment. Tormenta had reach. A lot of it. Kade gave half a step and nearly lost his footing. His rear boot slid across the ice. "Ah, kriff." There went his preferred answer.

Normally Kade would have exploded into motion by now. Leap. Flip. Change angles. Attack from somewhere his opponent hadn't expected him to be. The rapidly freezing battlefield made that considerably less appealing. Fine. Adapt.

The next strike came quickly. Instead of retreating from it, Kade went forward. Twin Verdict whipped around his body as he knocked Tormenta's weapon outward and drove himself inside her reach. His boots stayed low against the ice, abandoning the wide bounding movements favored by Ataru for short, explosive steps. If she wanted him trapped in close quarters, she could have him there.

Kade just wasn't going to fight at the distance she wanted. The second green blade of Twin Verdict swept low toward her forward leg, not committed enough to leave him exposed if she countered. Kade immediately rotated the saberstaff back across his body, using its opposite end to threaten high as he pressed forward. Fast. Compact. Aggressive.

He wanted her defending. More importantly, he wanted to know what she did when somebody refused to be intimidated by her.

There was something dangerously familiar about this. For a moment Thyferra disappeared. No burning fields. No refinery behind him. No soldiers depending upon him. Just Kade and somebody who looked like she might actually be capable of pushing him.

The same electric anticipation he'd once felt before a championship match rushed through him. Show me what you've got. He caught himself. That realization bothered Kade considerably more than the Sith did.

His next attack stopped short of becoming the reckless combination his instincts demanded. Twin Verdict came back into guard as Kade forced himself to glance past Tormenta. Her people were still moving. Not charging. Moving. Taking positions. Working around them.

This wasn't an arena. And he wasn't Highlight anymore. Kade's expression hardened. "You know, I almost like you." He shifted his grip on Twin Verdict, circling carefully despite the treacherous ground while keeping himself between Tormenta and the facility.

"Everybody else shows up talking about destiny, darkness, how the Jedi are doomed..." He shrugged. "You just wanted a fight." The grin returned. Smaller this time.

"But I've got bad news." The Force gathered around him. Kade suddenly drove his foot downward. A telekinetic burst hammered into the frozen ground around him, not directed at Tormenta but at the battlefield she'd created. Kade wasn't trying to overpower whatever unnatural cold she was producing. He just wanted to fracture the smooth sheet beneath their feet, breaking it into a rough field of cracked ice and ferrocrete that might actually give his boots something to grip. Because if she wanted to see how he moved when he could plant his feet? He'd happily show her.

Kade raised Twin Verdict again. "You came here looking for a good time." His eyes briefly tracked another group of pirates moving toward the defenders before snapping back onto Tormenta. "I'm here to make sure your day's terrible."

Then Kade launched himself forward. No elaborate leap this time. Just acceleration. The Force drove through his legs as he crossed the distance with explosive speed, Twin Verdict spinning once before he abruptly arrested its momentum and changed direction. The first blade slashed toward Tormenta's weapon arm while the second remained positioned to intercept the counter he fully expected.

Kade wasn't trying to end the fight. Not yet. She had tested him. Now he was testing her. And somewhere beneath all the discipline his Masters had spent years hammering into him, Highlight Virell was still grinning. Because one way or another? He was getting that second blade lit.


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