Invasion The Bacta War | Sith Order Invasion of High Republic Thyferra Chapter 2

[Petra Noll]

WRENCH

ROGUE SQUADRON // FLIGHT OPERATIONS

PETRA NOLL

LIEUTENANT // ROGUE THIRTEEN // BB-7K "PATCH"

♫ EXCLUSION ZONE

LOCATION: COCKPIT, T-91 VIGILANT TIME: VARIES

Petra's eyes scanned the machines that were hooked up to her fellow pilot Rylen Grace before she turned her attention back to him. Her fingers pressed a cool damp cloth to the verdant forehead. She couldn't make heads nor tails of the status readouts, other than the few things that were obvious. Poor kid had a fever. It probably wouldn't kill him. His white counts were elevated as his body fought off whatever infection it was that had him bedridden. He was very clearly ill, and in no fit state to be out of bed, let alone in a cockpit.

Naturally, Petra couldn't leave it at that. They were fighter jocks, after all. They showed their affection by abusive banter. Which is why instead of offering comfort or even simple sympathy she said: "For God's sake, are you going to lie around all day? I've seen people go to great lengths to get out of drill, but this is taking it to a whole other level."

She rolled her eyes. That was made it art.

Petra took the cloth, dipped it back in the cold water, wrung it out and replaced it on Grace's forehead. She was about to say something else mean when her comlink chirped an emergency alert. Mustering orders for immediate deployment. She read the message and then picked up Rylen's hand and lifted it to cover the cloth on his own forehead. "Gotta motor, Grace. Hold this if you think it won't strain your delicate sensibilities."

"You look like hammered bantha shit, by the way," Petra observed conversationally -- almost cheerfully -- as she took her flight jacket from the back of the chair where she'd left it and crossed to the door. Only then did her features and voice soften into something like collegiality. "Hang in there, kid."

◇

The hangar was abuzz with activity as fighters deployed. Small groups congregated around commanding officers to hear orders. Petra looked around, eyes searching for her Rogue brethren, and finally alighted upon Michael Angellus . She jogged across the deck, Patch wheeling along in her wake and dodging, with qualified success, being kicked by other pilots. Coming to a rest beside Angellus, she gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow. Their start had been a rocky one, but there was no need to carry that weight now, not here. "How are we looking, Michael?" she asked. "Got orders we'll be flying cover for the Grace and bacta transports."

Petra directed her droid to begin the preflight on her fighter and turned back to Michael. "Did you get that hydraulic spasm worked out? Happy to take a look before we fly if you need."

FLIGHT RECORD // ACTIVE

INTERACTING WITH

Rylen Grace • Michael Angellus • Tiberius Rath

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

EPISODE – Entry # 01010
Location: – Above Thyferra
Assigned Craft: My X-wing or My Other One Astromech Partner: BRED (BB-30)
Current Mood: Determined
Background Noise: I can’t hear anything over the spherical Diva.

The relationship between Michael Angellus and his astromech, BB-30 (BRED), was complicated at best. The astromech was often a counter spoil to Michael’s often optimistic look on life and vice versa, but there was an unspoken affection between the two of them that came from years of working together as a team. BRED was the first astromech to be assigned to Michael, and he had been with him ever since he had been stationed on the planet of Naboo. BRED had been with Michael for so long that he had forgotten what it was like to have an astromech that wasn’t BRED, and it was because of this that he had decided to keep BRED as his astromech even after he had left the planet of Naboo and had been transferred to the planet of Odessen and eventually back.

More often than not, the two bicker like an old married couple, but in combat? They were a force to be reckoned with, and they had proven that time and time again over the years that they had been partnered together. Even now working on a hydraulic spasm, there is something serious outside there, so they are working to get out into the fight.

Hold on! I got it…right… try it now!

Wooo-beep


That was it, all they needed to say to each other. That was how well they actually gelled when it was time to get down to business, and there was no time like the present to get into the fight. It was just a matter of finding out assignments.

CUTTO SCENE - Michael and BRED are walking around their fighter, looking like they had been through a war.Why do you think we only get along when it counts?

Wooo-beep


Okay wow. That was me extending an olive branch and that was you spitting in my face.

Chitter Chitter Chitter

Almost on cue, Knoll came running up to them, Michael just watched her with a strange look on his face. I swear she could run faster than that if she really wanted to…


Naw, we’re good. How’s Grace? Still faking it? No, Michael didn’t believe the Mirialan was “faking” his medical issues but it was just easier to keep detached that way for the purpose of what was going on right now. They needed to focus on the task at hand and not let personal feelings get in the way of what needed to happen next.

Chitter Chitter Chitter



As BRED rolled off to get loaded into the fighter, Michael looked on. Okay, escort. Do you have a flightline or will the transports provide it? Standard question, mixed in with Michael getting a glint in his eye. He wanted to shoot down some Sith for having the gaul to try and destroy bacta.

TAG: Petra Knoll

CUTTO SCENE - This is where he is speaking in a different setting, as if recapping what he had just seen on a holovid
Wooo-beep

 

[Tiberius Rath]

Viscount-class Mon Calamari Battlecruiser
HRNS GRACE OF THEED
​

A strange sensation crawled along the back of his mind, like the feel of the legs of a centipede he could not see against his skin.

And then...

if they were not sensitive to the Force, all they would feel is a slight shiver down the spine. The faintest brush of her presence upon them, and across the crews of their ship and its accompanying forces.

— Sith battle coordinators have been fielded. We’re being watched. —

"Spyglass."

"Commodore -- "

"Spyglass!" Tiberius repeated, louder.

The word sent a ripple through the bridge crew as the officers of the High Republic frantically scrambled to grab their issued neural bands and don them. Not standard issue across the whole of the Republic's forces, but aboard the vessel containing not only the king but the chancellor of the Republic? Without question.

Everyone had heard the rumors of what Sith could do to a person's mind. Nobody wanted to die screaming, tormented by their own nightmares, or turned upon their comrades in a frenzy of madness.

Tiberius put his own band on and turned toward the king and chancellor.

"Captain Marsanti, escort his majesty to the citadel."

A tremendous beam tore across the void. The shot ripped through the battlespace in a continuous torrent of destructive energy.

Something glowed in out the viewport, like a distant sun going nova. "Commodore!" Verity gasped, pointing out the viewport.

Tiberius' head snapped toward the viewport as he saw the jet of energy shot from an impossible distance. The three thousand meter High Republic ship Grace of Theed shuddered violently underfoot.

This was followed by a chorus of chatter from his officers:

"Shields back and holding at ninety percent!"

"Reporting damage to external hull-"

"Small, strike craft-"

"No casualty estimates-"

"Source of the energy readings..."

The Commodore pointed firmly toward the exit, "Right now, Captain."

The Mirialan Republic marine nodded, flanked by his platoon of Republic special marine commandos. "This way, your highness, chancellor, senator."

Returning his attention to the readouts, Tiberius scowled at the source of the energy spike. Apparently it was a strike craft that had fired that shot.

"Where is Rogue Squadron? Eliminate that starfighter."

Then his eyes panned to a Star Destroyer between them and the planet.

Orbit of Thyferra, Eschaton-class Star Destroyer Idirsholas

​

"I want a clear path for our assault craft, concentrate port firepower on that vessel."

The turbolasers of the Grace of Theed thundered in the void, an unrelenting barrage as Tiberius maneuvered the vessel to rake the smaller Idirsholas from bow to stern.

Attacking: Taeli Raaf
Scene Participants: Verity Stuyveris Dominique Vexx Aurelian Veruna CT-312 Petra Noll Vizion Trozky​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Objective II - HRNS Grace of Theed
Tags: Dominique Vexx | Verity Stuyveris | Tiberius Rath | Vizion Trozky | Taeli Raaf | CT-312
Equipment: Check Sig

Consequences were secondary to results. The artifact had been tested, and it worked. To what scale remained to be seen, but it effectively leveled the playing field for those born sensible rather than cursed with mysticism. Amber eyes tracked toward the center of the bridge, where the black device sat secured within the ship's internal power matrix, practically teasing him. High Republic leadership had been present when he seized the artifact from the Jedi. Everyone knew it would be weaponized. It had been explicitly discussed during emergency command briefings when word of this possible attack first reached them. Leaving it idle in the middle of an orbital battle made no sense.

Political debate stalled real action, interrupted only when the crew suddenly reacted to an unseen threat. Verity shoved a crude neural band into his hands.

"No, thank you," Aurelian said, tapping the side of his head with a cool smile. "I am the most protected man in this room."

Two Kinsguards adjusted their positioning around him. Every technological defense and personal safeguard money could buy was woven into his attire, investments made after his last grueling encounter with the Sith.

Hesitation was the fatal flaw of this Republic. They waited until circumstances forced their hand, usually far too late. Aurelian operated differently. He had acted to thwart his father's assassination against Sibylla. He had acted to remove his father's influence from the throne entirely. He had stepped up personally when he knew no one would be able to make these tough decisions for Naboo. Someone capable of fighting back.

A heavy pull seemed to draw his gaze back to the central console. The obsidian surface of the artifact practically hummed, calling to him through the noise of blaring alarms and panicked reports.

Footsteps carried him mindlessly toward the amplifier unit. Observing the sudden shift in intent, the Kinsguard formed an immediate wall of steel behind him, blocking anyone who might attempt to escort him off the bridge. Panels surrounding the container hissed open, pneumatic locks disengaging to reveal the smooth, light-absorbing sphere within.

Aurelian reached out, his bare palm settling flush against the cold surface of the stone.

Power surged instantly through the vessel. An invisible, suffocating shockwave rippled outward from the console, tearing the Force away from the immediate space surrounding the HRNS Grace of Theed. The subtle thrum of unseen energy vanished, leaving an unnatural, hollow silence in the air. For the first time, the scales were balanced, and they were no longer simple playthings for the mystics.

​

 

[Pillar of Faith]

ARTIFACT ACTIVATED

The Void artifact is activated on the bridge of HRNS Grace of Theed. The ship is the only thing affected by the artifact. ​

 

[Eira Dyn]

​

Objective: 2 - Cause chaos
Appearance: War
Equipment: Marwolaeth Ddu, Lethal Pursuers, Vibrosword, blaster pistol
Tag: CT-312 | Quinn Varanin

Eira tilted her head, thinking on the memory. "Was it a pillar? Huh..." It must have been since she never doubted that CT-312 had a solid memory for first encounters. Especially with the AI that she has with her armour as well. "Well, few can say they survive a fight with him, and most who can are Force Users so you are definitely in a niche group that might linger in his memory than most Jedi." Eira chuckled, she figured that her friend might enjoy the fact that she could be someone who stood out more than she assumed.

Looking around the hangar, there was a lot going on even from here, guards pushing forward. Aiming to spread destruction and chaos within the ship and likely aim to render the vessel either unusable or have it turn on its allies. Eira was sure that the High Republic did not account for the dedication of the Sith and their soldiers. The young Sith noticed that CT-312 was focusing on a pair of droids, she tilted her head. Wondering what her friend had in mind, the soldier was rarely this unconventional in her fighting style. Clearly the incidents with the High Republic left a very bitter taste in CT-312's mouth that she was hell-bent on causing damage and chaos in the biggest of ways.

"Sure." Was the short answer when she was given instructions from her friend. Taking the splicer droids, Eira moved as quietly as she could. The armour was not in the stealthiest variation that she had so it was much harder but the assassin took the challenge as serious as possible. They didn't want the High Republic to suspect that anything had been tampered with these shuttles, that way the damage that could be done would be as brutal as it could be. Each one was unknowingly tapped by Eira as she moved with some limited grace in order to make sure that the droids were in place as CT-312 had wanted.

Heading back to the drop pod, Eira tapped the comms of her helmet, calling out to Quinn. She was unsure if her Master would be able to pick up right away, but Eira wanted to make sure that she could at least drop a voice message. "Mission is still ongoing, got a bit side tracked with some other things but we plan on heading down to where you wanted us to be soon enough. Keep safe and if anything happens, let us know and we'll shift course to you." Eira stated, keeping things vague and simple so that anyone attempting to overhear won't know exactly where her and CT-312 are heading nor would they know what Quinn's mission was for them to do. Eira was never going to expose her Master in that way and knew that vague was the best course of action.

Seeing CT-312 hauling a big hulking Kainite droid and pushing it into the cockpit of a fighter, Eira tilted her head. This was not something that Eira really understood nor did she know the connection between the ship and CT-312. "Stealing keepsakes now?" Eira asked, wondering what was going through the mind of her friend as she looked at the scene.

Moving to one of the shuttles, Eira gripped one of the handles and looked over to CT-312. "What are you doing here? I can't help unless you tell me more of what you are doing." Eira stated firmly, she was not a fan of being in the dark but she was also concerned about CT-312. There was going off assignment to cause a little trouble and then there was ignoring the assignment entirely, the latter did not seem to be something that her friend would really be wanting to do. "Tell me what the cogs in your brain are turning for and perhaps I can help make sure we are being efficient and effective so we can get back to what Quinn wanted us to be doing quickly."

While Eira wasn't keen on the mission assigned to them by Quinn, Eira wasn't really aiming to fail that mission either and the longer things took to do, the more likely too much damage would be done and the pair lose their chance to grab the stuff that Quinn wanted. The shuttle ride over to the new ship was tense but fortunately, commandeering one of the High Republic's vessels was a benefit since they could get close without high risk of being under heavy fire. Would look bad if the High Republic randomly started shooting down their own shuttles.

Landing on the Mutual Liberty, Eira looked over to CT-312 with some concern but focused back on the present. "There are going to be soldiers outside that aren't Blackguard. So be ready to fight." Eira said as she pulled out her daggers. As the shuttle bay doors opened, Eira zipped forward. Force Scream erupted from her like a hellish banshee as it deafened and disorientated the soldiers around her. Her daggers moved in a flurry, slicing through their armour and body like it was butter. She was a monster in that moment, unleashing the wrath that had been contained for months. Lightning crackled around her forearms. Excitement was overwhelming the apprentice as she moved, the zaps of lightning only increasing her pain and fuelling her drive to kill. Each dead soldier was stabbed numerous times unnecessarily but the laughter from Eira felt like she found it very necessary.

"Oh sister, if only you were here to join the dead." Eira muttered to herself, "perhaps I should return home. Make sure you see the message that I see." A plan forming in her own mind.

As blood dripped from her, from her daggers, Eira breathed in deeply. There was more work that she needed to be doing. More shuttles to tag. Eira moved and tapped the shuttles, the bloodlust had been intoxicating and Eira needed to hunt more. She needed to kill more. Blasting from a distance, sabotage. It wasn't what her body craved. Screams, blood and suffering. That was what fuelled her.

 

[Kaivaan Raaf]

Nearby: Taeli Raaf
Supporting: Quinn Varanin | CT-312 | Eira Dyn | Arris Windrun | Darth Nefaron | Darth Carnifex | Darth Malum of House Marr
Opponents: THR​

The strings answered him now the way they had not, an hour past.

Kai had stopped counting the minds. That had been the mistake at the start, trying to hold each one, as though attention were a thing he could divide a hundred ways and not have it thin to nothing. He understood it differently now. He did not hold them. He held the shape of them, the whole boarding effort as a single tension across the current, and he leaned his will into that shape the way a hand leans into a taut line and feels the whole of it respond.

Somewhere far out along the current he felt his grandmother go, her ethereal self pulling away toward the deep field, toward the new minds gathering at the edge of his awareness, the ones too distant and too bright for him to read. He felt the space where her nearness had been and did not reach after it. That was the lesson, wasn't it. She had given him the near field to hold precisely so that she could range. If he faltered the instant she stepped away, he was no first chair at all; he was a boy who could only play when someone stood at his shoulder.

He did not falter.

He settled deeper instead, and turned his attention back to the decks.

The Quibbler, contested, he could feel the fight for her spread across three levels, his people pushing corridor by corridor toward the cargo holds. Into them he fed what they needed, reading it off them faster than thought now: the trooper whose nerve was fraying got steadiness, a quiet flood of it, and held; the strike-leader three sections ahead got clarity, the noise of the fight narrowing to the single door in front of her; a marine pinned behind a bulkhead, certain in his bones he was about to die there, was given the small unshakable conviction that he was not, and rose, and moved, and lived a little longer for it. Kai felt each one take, felt fear thin into focus down the length of the whole line, and it was

It was like breathing. It was like the meditation crystal on the island, except the island had been silence and this was a symphony, and he was the hand it answered to.

He noticed, distantly, that he had stopped being afraid of the corridors. That the old hold, the small certain terror of it, had gone quiet somewhere beneath the work because he was not in the cage now. He was the thing moving through all of them at once, steadying the frightened, and there was no room left in him for the boy who had once been small and waiting. There was only the instrument, and his hand upon it, and how completely it answered.

He should have examined that, perhaps. How good it felt. How readily a hundred wills bent to a quiet pressure, once you understood where to lean.

He did not. There was a battle on, and his grandmother had given him the orchestra to keep.

So Kai closed his awareness around the near field, steadied the line where the Quibbler's defenders had begun to buckle, and played on, wholly, gladly absorbed in the one thing he had just discovered he was made for.

 

[Teev]

| Location | Thyferra​

| Objective | Waddle​

​

Fusion cutters carved through the hull as Teev concluded their prayer. A soft muffled clap as gloved hands came together and the Jawa stood up, holding their staff upright in one hand. Molten sparks splattered along the floor as a glowing ring was completed before the heavy slab of metal fell forward and the first wave of Sith troopers began to disembark from their boarding pod. They cleared their sectors, only pausing when their gaze fell upon the small Jawa standing with their stick in silence. ​

​

One of the soldiers turned to their sergeant, "Is that a kid?", unsure what to make of the tiny figure at the end of the hall. The sergeant barked at the corporal, "Ignore them and secure the ship," as gestured forward - they had more pressing matters to attend to than dealing with a supposed child playing dress up. The sith troopers moved forward, the only way forward for them being past the Jawa.​

​

Teev lowered their staff, tapping the end of it against the threshold behind them, before pointing it at the incoming group of soldiers. "Foo..." ​

​

The lead trooper attempted to brush past Teev - a mistake as the Jawa grasped their staff in both hands, swinging it with all the force their small form could muster. The end connected with the trooper's armored shin. What followed could only be described as an incomprehensible scene as the soldier immediately dropped their blaster and cried out, "OH @$#! MOTHER @$!&# SON OF A &%#%^" a string of expletives exiting their lips that could have seared a hole through the ship as they clutched at their leg, hopping on their other leg. Teev shifted their grip as the gnarled end hooked around their bouncing ankle before tugging, sending them onto their back. ​

​

The other soldiers immediately turned to take aim at the Jawa, now acknowledging them as a threat. Whether they were happy to shoot at the Jawa or just going by what they were trained to do to engage hostiles, the galaxy may never know. The diminutive Jawa leapt into the air, somersaulting with the grace and poise that was never to be expected of a creature their size, their staff swinging and colliding with the Sith soldiers, and sweeping others off their feet and onto their backs. ​

​

Blaster bolts flooded the hallway, scorching the floors and corridors before falling quiet, the only sound heard being the troopers sprawled all along the floor groaning in pain. Teev stepped on the chest of the unit's sergeant, their staff resting on them like they were planting a flag on top of a hill whilst proudly exclaiming, "Fushigi!" ​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Location: HRNV- The Quibbler
Tags: Arris Windrun

Cora didn’t look startled when Arris rose from the debris, watching how easily those cybernetic limbs took the impact. The motion was smooth, unhurried. Like she’d done it before.

How many times, Cora wondered. How many times had every servos whirred and piston flared?

“So - how do you wanna do this?”

Cora's brow tensed at the question, and her lips parted a moment before the words came.

“Did you…” she gestured toward the heap of twisted metal and broken glass. “…misinterpret that?” Aristocrats were known for their way of talking around things, and Cora was no exception. Usually. War, she'd discovered, was a little more direct.

Tiny splinters of glass from the broken light, near invisible, had landed near her boots. They crunched quietly when she took a single step forward, looking slightly irked.

“I would not like to do this at all, frankly.” Again she gestured almost lazily with her free hand, this time sweeping towards the fallen. “I’d prefer it if you left. Returned to whatever hole you crawled out of and leave us be.”

If there was a reflexive lecture about hope or the prevailing of the light welling somewhere in her, it was quietly tucked away. Buried beneath years of compounding grief and, ultimately, what mattered more; her little family, the safety of the bacta stores, even proper burials the three fallen guards and one engineer should receive.

“And if you insist on staying, I’d like for you to answer one thing.”

One of the severed wires shuddered, coughing up a pair of sparks before shriveling back to the floor. There was a dulling of the Force, just for a moment - like the pull of a wave as it passed back over sand. The glass shards and fragments of metal scattered around Arris shuddered, and at the command of Cora's clenched fist, fired upward with blistering speed.

“What do you think draws people into your Covenant?”

She really meant one, in particular.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Corazona von Ascania
Down & Out
​

Misinterpret what? Windrun's eyes explored the gestured ruin before falling back on the Jedi.

Arris thought: if she didn't want to do this, then all the woman had to do was abandon ship with the rest of the crew. But she didn't say it. Though she was surprised when the Jedi presented a bargain. A question for her intrusion.

The cyborg remained locked where she was. Quite unresponsive, really, even as tiny shards of glass and metal cut towards her at lethal speed. They scratched her armored shell and lacerated synthetic fiber. There was even a loud bang as it accidentally set off a slug in her belt; thankfully, the leather was quite durable, and the slug ejected onto the floor. Only one hand came up to guard much of her face and head, though there were a few cuts across the synthflesh - which otherwise ceased to exist where her jaw and neck met.

Her hand fell back to her side. There was a slight pause as Arris finished her thought and answered.

"Abuse."

She wouldn't elaborate further.

Rather, the cyborg's expression steeled. Somewhere between haunted and determined. As if there really wasn't any fire in her, but all the same, she wouldn't give up. Arris took a fighter's stance, mirroring the form of a shockboxer. Both revolvers remained holstered at her hips.

All the while, she reached out in the Force, extending herself across their surroundings, infesting the ship with her own Darkness. It wasn't subtle or hidden. Arris could not do so; she could be read in the Force, though attempt to get in her head, and all you'd meet was grating, awful noise. Violence and hatred and fear completely severed from rational thought, suffocating the real woman buried within.

Throughout that reach, she manipulated a nearby vent - funneling reactor exhaust at full blast towards Cora's right side; a wave of very hot gas.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

HRNS Grace of Theed

Dominique looked down as a message came in from Vizion Trozky confirming what they'd suspected. Verity Stuyveris seemed to take to action once that came in, and even sought to reach out to Aurelian Veruna as well. Camaraderie she could appreciate though the code word should have been enough to spring into action on its own. A minor matter not worth addressing at the moment.

Verity then suggested they should vacate the bridge. Not a poor tactical suggestion considering the enemy knew a precision location of where they were. There were other facilities that could furnish their ability to control the situation without inviting an easy decapitation by the enemy. Dominique was inclined to accept the proposal even as Tiberius Rath seemed inclined to escort them promptly from the bridge.

Her hands pressed against the side of the table as the ship rocked from an enemy attack ( CT-312 ). So they'd identified a target, had they? The turn in events had drawn her eyes to a map of the nearby area and fleet deployment. Enough of a distraction not to immediately notice Aurelian stepping away.

An officers voice of uncertainty drew her eyes however. "Aurelian," Dominique snapped. Not near enough to stall his movement, of course.

She stormed across the bridge utterly unconcerned with anything the marines Tiberius Rath had commanded to remove the civilian leadership might have said. Dominique's face was such it could cow a Force Storm. If Aurelian's guards thought to bar her progress they would be the ones getting the scouring glare of her golden eyes above the rims of her glareshades.

"What in Shiraya's name do you think you are doing?" How far had the field spread? What did he think he was doing having his personal Guard seek to bar them from him or the artifact? Without so much as a by-your-leave.

Taeli Raaf​