Skirmish The Battle of Genarius - [THR v SC]

[Ala Quin]

The High Republic & The Sith Covenant
PRESENT

A STORY OF LIGHT VS DARK ​

A shadow sweeps across the Southern Systems, born from internal strife and mistrust. It ripples through the Force... influencing motives, heightening tensions, and adding accelerant to the flames of one person's desperate choice to save her House and the Republic.

With plans provided to them by a traitor, the Sith Covenant have waged a campaign against Republic shipping and evidence of both Sith involvement and an impending attack on a greater scale. The Jedi Order's investigations have led them to Genarius, the same world that has appeared recently in the visions of some Jedi across the Order and elsewhere in the galaxy.

Genarius is under attack!

The Covenant and other dark opportunists strike at the city of Edic Bar, a key to House Veruna's wealth, and a valuable manufacturing base within the Southern Systems. Whatever their intentions, it cannot be good for the people of Edic Bar or the Republic!

OUT OF CHARACTER​

The battle of Genarius is a classic Light v.s. Dark storyline featuring Jedi, Sith, wicked outlaws, and rogue do-gooders set on a floating city in the clouds of a gas giant. This Battlefront-inspired skirmish on a classic locale is intended to be a fun, public PvP thread before the holidays.

Dark Side Objective: Attack the city of Edic Bar, take what you can, and sink it into the clouds.

Light Side Objective: Defend Edic Bar from the Sith assault and evacuate the civilians.

Bonus Objective: A secret SoroSuub lab has developed plans for a prototype star cruiser with advanced blockade running capabilities. Secure them before the lab is destroyed along with the city.

The High Republic and Sith Covenant invite Light and Dark side allies to join the fight! Sign up below if you are interested!

 

[Thessaly Veruna]

Thessaly Veruna sipped her wine. A good vintage. A strong bite. Like the taste of vengeance unfolding on her palette.

The glass was placed down gently on the credenza beside her. It clinked lightly, the lone abberration in her otherwise immaculately controlled silence.

Her finger tapped her tabac filled paper, ash dropping into the waiting porcelain dish. Her hand, slim to near skeletal, move the cigarette to her lips, and she breathed in deeply. She held her breath — as she did her plans — and then she exhaled slowly, a steady stream of smoke that billowed into the air.

From the ancient home on Naboo, Thessaly Veruna awaited news of the first true strike against her brother, and the House of dogs he had so readily debased himself. House Veruna would no longer supplicate to the filth of the Abrantes gene-pool.

She looked at the cigarette, quirked a brow. "Vanilla...interesting choice."

@CLOSED TO TAGS​

 

[Ala Quin]

"Master Jedi. You simply must see...there is more than piracy taking place here."

"You did not have to convince me, Administrator Varkon," Ala said, looking up from the pictures on the table display, "those are definitely lightsaber scorch marks...the only question is what sort of Force users we are dealing with. Reports say that some dark side users have taken up work with the Black Sun..."

She glanced over her shoulder, looking for Balun. His absence brought a frown for just a moment, before remembering that he had split off from her small detachment. Something about sensing a need elsewhere. She trusted the Force in moments like this, but missed her padawan's supportive presence nonetheless.

Her glance back to the table-screen seemed in time with a klaxon that sounded. Ala stood aright, not really adding any impressiveness to her stature, and glared at the screens across the control room. "What is it?"

"The pirates. They are back..."

"I guess we will get those answers sooner than expected."

"Will you fight for us, Master Jedi?"

"Administrator...it would be my honour."

Spinning about her heels, she marched towards the door. She glanced at a Jedi Knight that had accompanied her, a Weequay named Qualls. "Alert the others. All efforts to be turned on repelling these pirates. Find out anything they can about their intentions...and please don't die. Send an extra message to Lorn, please...tell him I love him...and he better take care of himself."

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Tamsin Starfall fyi, Balun Dashiell fyi, Lorn Reingard | Equipment: Two yellow lightsabers |​

 

[Emissary of Strife]

​

The Sith Covenant slipped their strike team past the orbital defenses of Genarius. From what appeared to be ordinary freighters emerged the dark side assailants. Mercenaries and pirates fell in behind acolytes and their leaders. Others sprung their traps elsewhere in the city, having arrived in disguise or by some other means.

Their goal? To cripple House Veruna's tibanna production on the floating city of Edic Bar - spectacularly, if possible, and to send a message to the noble family and their Republic: welcome to the struggle.

"Why do we exist?"

Freighter doors flew open and out poured the fodder.

"To throw ourselves forward."

Their first act was to jump in and stun the enemy; take control of local defenses, and gain the advantage. However, this was not only about fulfilling some contract; it was also a test. The acolytes from Desevro must prove themselves capable of waging war if they mean to claim the title Sith.

"Strife is the divide, and we are the ones who embrace it!"

Sith tags: Mercy Vestra Tane Tamsin Starfall Varin Mortifer Naniti Darth Imperius The Madclaw Lysander von Ascania Blade Ice Genesis Draykin Arris Windrun Jorryn Fordyce

Jedi tags: Isobel Serraris Lily Decoria Cerys Dyn Balun Dashiell Acier Moonbound Lorn Reingard Bastila Sal-Soren Hwo Connel Vanagor Ayra Lowe Kito Aiden Porte Jace Rhane

(yell at me if I didn't tag you!)

 

[Zefgahld Qojex]

OOC: Posting as an Imperial spy disguised as a mercenary alias fighting for the Jedi (honor and all that) while working to retrieve the secret objective for the Imperials. I hope such clandestine nature isn't too scummy. It's all for the paradoxical honoring of both the good men and women in the Imperial Military and the honor of and (secret) service to the Jedi Order as an ally, if a very weird one!

Any Jedi who wants a weird, loyal defender, feel free to reach out to me and let's have fun!

Query: Are we using dice when it comes to the secret objective?

Weapons: SSK-7 heavy blaster pistol and an E-11 blaster rifle.

Equipment: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Xcalq-3GA_portable_computer

Objective: Sorosuub Research Center Blueprints/Schematics

"You're Falo Loffkeq?"

The human soldier looked over the mercenary before him. A short, tan-furred and midnight-haired Amaran woman with brilliant purple eyes, smiling lopsidedly as she hefted an older model E-11 blaster rifle with one hand, as though she were already a hero posing for the holo-recordings.

"Yes, Sir! The Jedi put out the call for aid, and I've always had a lifelong admiration for them!" Her smile twitched more to the left, while the right side remained unraised, making her smile crooked. "I-"

Glancing down at his datapad, the immense man cut her off with a wave of a hand both crisscrossed with scars and thick with muscle, nodding as he confirmed the false information that the Amaran had sliced into their system earlier. "Report in with the Jedi and the other soldiers - and DON'T get caught by the Sith alone, for Light's sake!"

The Amaran kept her enthusiastic, nerve-tinged grin in place, striding forward. No one suspected a thing, and that was the last barrier that had to be passed! She had DONE IT! Her childhood heroes and primary moral influencers could be served as this alias from time to time, while Zefgahld Qojex would get away with the means to honor the good men and women of the Imperial military! It was a win-win situation for her and for all of the people she was trying to support! Nothing could go wrong at this point, except wither getting killed or caught!

The Amaran adjusted the black backpack containing her portable computer - it was a necessary piece of equipment for the Sorosuub Research Lab that was, according to both the rumors and intel reports from the military, mercenaries and Jedi alike, had been working on some sort of secret project involving starships, and that was the Amaran's true goal... For the sake of the Imperial military, at least; fighting alongside and merely witnessing the Jedi was just a bonus, and it would be all the more EXCITING if one of them actually accompanied her! THIS was her kithood dream!

The lithe fox alien settled into place next to a trembling, pudgy Ithorian mercenary, taking a moment to salute the gut with two (fingerless) glove-laced digits. Her urban camouflage was a stark contrast to his dark, medium armor. Her own was crafted for light and quick movements, which was going to be an imperative if he was going to make it to the lab swiftly and decisively! She trembled next to the Ithorian, casting her gaze over the High Republic military personnel, the other mercenaries and a few Jedi that were already in attendance! With her heart hammering in her chest, she managed to wave lightly at one of them, doing her best not to giggle like an idiot!

She lowered her gaze and pretended to fiddle with her E-11, slotting in an ammo cartridge as she waited for the order to charge off into the fray, to bring glory to the Jedi and (secretly) to stalwart defenders of the Empire! No matter what, thanks to her efforts, the Sith would begin to burn for their evil!

Emissary of Strife

OOC: I'm fighting alongside the Jedi out of IC love for their ideals, while secretly serving as an Imperial spy, so put me on the Jedi side. I know it's weird, but I hope that's alright.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Opponent: Lily Decoria
Equipment: Down & Out

Everything moved too fast now.

At one point, running between the Black Sun and the Covenant was the greatest sense of freedom. With the guilt of Kattada a more distant memory, Arris found fondness in all-out battle during the First Conclave, to joining a daring band of Sith--the likes of Hasuras and Star-Arm--aboard the dreaded Death Star over Atrisia, where they managed to steal the Emperor's throne room and (allegedly) the man himself inside.

But then she had to go and become responsible. First for the acolytes, then for the turfs on Nar Shaddaa. And now she conspired in the games of high nobility?

Everything moved too fast now.

She departed the freighter behind a group of thugs and eradicator acolytes, the latter led by Lysander von Ascania , their Sith Captain. The halves split shortly after that, as Arris and her pirate fodder moved towards the central processing, where volatile gas was exchanged between the various facilities. It was the nexus point at which they could deliver a critical blow to the entire operation.

However, the cyborg decided to send the ilk on ahead while she investigated something. She felt a ripple in the Force, but it was too raw and she, too untrained, to make sense of.

 

[Cerys Dyn]

The tug shuttle wasn’t much to look at — squat, rust-haloed around the engine intakes, its hyperdrive rating so low it might as well have been decorative. But it would fly. It would get her to the next system. And most importantly, it would get her away.

Cerys traced a hand along the hull, weighing the timing. Guards rotated every six minutes. The loading crew down the way had grown distracted arguing about docking fees. No Jedi signatures were close. She could slip inside, launch before anyone thought to...

The klaxons wailed.

A rising, grating howl rolled through the hangar, turning heads and freezing her blood in equal measure. Dockworkers grabbed for railings as emergency shutters began to grind into place along the outer airlocks. Overhead, the lights shifted to pulsing red.

Pirate attack. Again.

Cerys’ montrals rang with the sudden shift in motion — people running, turbolifts locking down, ships powering up defensively. Her jaw clenched. Of course. Of course the galaxy couldn’t give her ten minutes of stillness.

Her hand drifted unconsciously toward her saber, fingers hovering but not touching. Not here. Not now. She could not reveal herself. Not with Jedi presence already thickening around the station like a tightening net.

A trio of security officers sprinted past her toward the observation deck, shouting orders she half-heard through the static. “Get anything with weapons or a laser-drill up in the air now!”

Cerys exhaled sharply.

The tug shuttle hissed as its systems shut down automatically under station-wide lockdown protocols. So much for slipping away quietly.

She stepped back into the swirl of chaos, hood shadowing her face.

If she wanted off this station…she would have to survive this attack first. And hope the Jedi, nor the pirates, found her first.

Balun Dashiell Jorryn Fordyce​

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

Theme: And so it Begins
Location: Edic Bar, Genarius
Tags: Ala Quin

"Why do we exist?"​

A question that plagued everyone who had ever lived, it wasn't a question that had a single answer or even the right one. Evolution did not give you a purpose, A God gave you purpose with out choice, and nihilism gave you choice that ended in ruination. All the ideas in-between were just as unsatisfying as the main three.

It was funny then as Tamsin sat in quiet contemplation at the back of the transport, knew exactly why she existed. It didn't fit the normal mold; she existed to die so that the being attached to her soul could be reborn. A monster that wanted nothing more than to extinguish all existence in the universe. She was the herald of its destruction, the omen of its return.

This Demon inside her was ancient and hunted this realm before. It knew people and faces, all of which it hated and despised. It wanted nothing more than to see them erased and this reality obliterated. That was to be Tamsin's story, the one who brought annihilation back into this universe.

Her existence fated; she had no future beyond the inevitable end. She wanted to fight it, she wanted to write her own fate. Yet every time she took a step forward, she always seemed to get shoved back ten. She wasn't just fighting her inner demon and what it was, but she was fighting for a place of her own in this mad Universe.

Fate was a queen and now it was time for war once more to plague this Galaxy. She flipped up the hood on her black cloak and marched off the freighter. Storming out into the floating city with so many other mercenaries and sith none of which even noticed the diminutive figure. In the back of her mind the Demon hummed a melody of destruction as chaos of battle was about to break out.

"I have always wanted to try to turn a gas giant into a star. Perhaps today child." The demon speaking into her mind between humming sending a chill up Tamsin's spine.

 

[Blade Ice]

Theme: Lick the Pavement
Location: Edic Bar, Genarius
Tags: Hwo

---

Black Combat Boots hit the ground or at least the closest thing the gas giant Genarius had for solid ground. A City in the clouds, Edic Bar, of what importance this world was Blade did not really know. To him it seemed the same as any other Gas giant world, one for mining gas.

The old bastard, once known at the Rebel Sith, found himself venturing more and more back into the Galaxy. Maybe it was the itch for a fight, maybe the spark of rebellion was hitting him again. Then again it was probably just boredom setting in.

This High Republic was as good as any other Empire or Republic to try and topple. It was probably marred in just much corruption and stagnation as all the others. Even then if it didn't scratch his itch he could always just walk away back into obscurity where he had been living for many years now.

His glowing orange eyes burning like balls of fire at the center of his face stared out at the city before him. It was time to go to work; he stepped forward his pace and movement steady. His long old tattered brown long coat swaying as he walked forward at a brisk pace. That coat that was a patch work of leather bits, it had seen so many wars not a stitch of it was original piece of the coat.

He was wearing black cargo pants and a black beskar chest piece he had stolen off a Mandalorian he killed a long time ago. If it wasn't for that chest piece, he would have looked like a homeless man wandering the city with his unkempt hair and beard.

His eyes watched as sith and mercenaries alike made their way to their objectives; he too had an objective. The first thing on his list find a damn cantina he could use a stiff drink before a fight and possible a smoke if time permitted.

 

[Darth Imperius]

LORD INDOMITUS
Through Fire and Blood.
Through Justice and Strength.
On the Anvil of War, We forge our Destiny.

Lorn Reingard | Bastila Sal-Soren | Aiden Porte

CLEANSING FIRE​

Genarius | Edic Bar | Streets

The surface cracked under His impact, civilians screamed and scattered, running away both from the titanic figure that had appeared in their midst as well as due to the sirens howling. The smell of fear and dread was in the air, the surprise of the Sith attack almost completely catching both people and their defenders off guard.

Imperius did not wait till the freighters and shuttles of the Sith landed, He had opened the ramp and stepped out. His black armored body dropping like a meteor, the red tabard a fiery trail. A figure in richly decorated armor, a dark knight, twisting the very words of honour, valor and glory to their most brutal and merciless definitions.

He strode forward. He did not run, jog or sprint, it was neither necessary nor deemed appropriate. He had landed where He intended to and was not far from the place that He needed to get to. Between the screams and sirens there were shouts though, shouts of those brave enough to call themselves defenders. Shouts that swiftly were accompanied by the high pitched hissing of blaster bolts being fired.

Five lightly armored figures had taken up arms and courage against the conqueror that had arrived, noble resistance and selfless sacrifice against what they would only perceive as darkness, as evil. A concept that was so foolishly ignorant and narrow-minded that only common peasants could come up with it. Evil was the sentience that caused war since millennia. Darkness came everywhere where light was casting it shadow. Conflict was the core essence of evolution. And sadly in the case of the people of Edic Bar - evolution was coming swiftly.

And in case of the five figures, they were in the way. A gaze of the winged helmet struck the five, freezing them in their attack, terror spreading in their stiff eyes, resistance crumling as swiftly as their control over their own bodies. They were fighting, fighting valiantly, fighting only briefly. Then their guns turned on each other and they shot themselves, putting dozens of holes in their bodies before they dropped. Imperius did not interupt His march into the nearby building, cracking open the doors.

Inside was a turbolift, the device that would bring Him to the lower levels of the city where the grav anchors were.

 

[Genesis Draykin]

​

Theme: Bad Moon
Location: Edic Bar, Genarius
Tag: Connel Vanagor

Moving unnoticed through the city, for a few days now. Dressed in city maintenance gear she blended in to move about freely while the Covenant struck at the front gates. She pulled the ball cap she was wearing down over her eyes as she passed by soldiers moving to protect the city. She watched as other city personnel started to push civilians towards safe and evac zones.

The republic was ready from the attacks earlier, which meant the Covenant would have an uphill fight. The odds were against them, well against the Covenant, Genesis got paid win or lose. Only thing that really factored in was if she got captured or died. Dying would be inconvenient for her she had just reconnected with her daughter.

Even though they hadn't communicated much since Korriban, Genesis understood Kaila needed time to process. She just wished her daughter had given her the list of names of those who had wronged her then she would feel like she had a purpose. Instead, she was running as business as usual.


Playing mercenary for various groups in the Galaxy. She moved towards a maintenance hatch. She typed in a code she had lifted from another worker days earlier. She then popped in the hatch, shutting it behind after not noticing anyone following her. Once inside she pulled a black bag out of a small cubby hole.

Inside was her weapons and Armor and after putting it all on she would begin her climb up the tower the maintenance hatch was attached to. She pushed the thoughts of her daughter Darth Anathemous to the side as slipped a comm in her ear and began her climb.

"This is Ghost, on my way to the sniper's nest. Should give me a clear shots on the evac route for most of the cities administrative staff." She spoke over covenant secure line. They wanted to bring down the city but if it works out at least they could leave it in complete disarray.

 

[Balun Dashiell]

The Battle of Genarius
Light Side Objective: Defend Edic Bar
Location: Port Authority District, Open Streets
Inventory: Spacer Apparel, Lightsaber, K-16 Bryar Pistol
Tags: Cerys Dyn , Ala Quin & Jorryn Fordyce

Initially, Balun Dashiell's arrival at Edic Bar had been accompanied by his Master Ala Quin , whose responsibility it was not only to represent the Jedi Order of the High Republic, but to secure and safeguard any officials, diplomats and leadership of the Flotilla City in the Clouds. It had been his every intention to remain dutifully by her side, to serve as her apprentice as expected, and to conduct himself in a manner that was befitting of Ala's new status as Grandmaster of the Order.

...-Yet the moment he had sensed Cerys Dyn , somewhere distant and elusive yet nonetheless present at all, all plans had gone out the proverbial airlock. He had excused himself, claiming that he had felt something in the Force, something that he was called to do, yet this was a half-truth, as he still heard his Master's words in his mind from only a few days prior.

"if you seek Cerys because of some sort of emotional attachment...it raises some concerns about what sort of women you become attached to?"

Like it or not, Balun had made his decision rather easily. It was hardly a matter of choice but an instinct, impulsive as was true to his nature, yet also motivated by his undeniable ties to Cerys, he was determined to find her. Perhaps there would be consequences, and his Master would likely be upset with him when she learned the truth, yet this was his responsibility. Cerys had been lost during the battle of Sarko IV, and she was his friend and ally. He owed it to her to see that she was in good standing, regardless of whether she returned to the Order with him or not.

The first signs of the enemy invasion force had already reached landfall as Balun sprinted down the busied streets, doing his best to weave through the civilian crowd that had panicked and run for fear of safety, like a stampede of wild bantha, they slowed him in his rush to follow the familiar aura that was Cerys' lifeforce. Blasterfire and terrified shouts, screams and the quaking of the city floor foretold the battle underway, all of which was happening much quicker than he had anticipated. Balun had seen the horror of warfare too many times in his young life so far; he was among the few senior students of the Order who had been shaped by conflict, yet here there had been little to no warning. No time for the commonfolk to evacuate before their assailants were upon them. The telling signs of an orchestrated attack; sudden and violent.

He had neared the Port Authority District when he first came face-to-face with the hostiles. Local security had established a makeshift cover using sandbags and furniture taken from the nearby structures. At the same time, they sought to return fire in an effort to impede the enemy's advance. There were fewer defenders than there were hostiles, perhaps caught by the timely arrival of the invaders. He couldn't ignore the scene as they struggled to fight a seemingly losing battle.

The copper blade of his lightsaber flared to life, a sharp discharge of energy sounding off as though it pierced the air itself, soon illuminating the pavement underfoot as Balun turned in towards the enemy, moving to stand centre with the local security, etching only a few feet ahead so not to block their line of sight, yet angling his blade in swift and precise sweeps, catching incoming fire and deflecting it all back towards the foe.

"Stand your ground. Don't give these bastards an inch!" he shouted over the discharge of weapons fire. He didn't yet have a handle on who exactly had the balls to stage such an attack, but his first guess was placed on the Black Sun Syndicate, given the previous few engagements they had shared. Only, these were troopers being welcomed with heated plasma, not your typical mercenary types or thugs he had been introduced to thus far.

Jedi Master: Ala Quin
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Sink this City //
// Focus // Balun Dashiell // Cerys Dyn //
// Attire //

---

---

The whirling of sirens breathed life into the shuttle, soldiers beginning to move about in preparation for the oncoming assault. Against the motions of black armour stood a pale figure, waiting for the oncoming assault calmly. The Sith Covenant had been a new ally to Jorryn, one that she happily welcomed.

The embraced the path of Sith more fully than she herself did, but the group of acolytes so recently involved in events on Desevro had caught a glance from the woman. There was potential there and, as she heard whispers of an assault on Edric Bar, the Echani felt the potential to test her new powers.

Her mission was a simple one. Raise hell.

The white hilt of her lightsaber danced among her lithe fingers as the light poured from the opening on the shuttle bay, blaster fire quickly filling the void of the ship and exiting it in equal force. Those same black-suited men and woman poured forth from the ship like bees from a hive, ready to sting any that sought to stop them from their goal.

Screams attempted to overpower the sirens of the shuttle, the citizenship of the floating city having been caught off guard by the sudden invasion. The Echani took a breath to taste the rush of blood that permeated the moment, from her soldiers and the citizens both. But among the commoners lay those that maintained composure.

They would need to be felled first.

Stepping out from the shuttle behind the Covenant troopers, a maroon blade ignited against the hip of the witch, brushing aside stray blaster fire that fell her way. They were tossed aside casually, the starwort security lacking the same precision Republic troopers did. It wouldn't be long before they were deployed, then she might have to actually think about defence.

Amber eyes looked over the field of battle with disinterest, the appeal of mindless slaughter lost on the woman as she sought for better prey. And eventually her gaze fell on some.

The glow of copper signified a Jedi attempting to put up a resistance alongside security, rallying them into something resembling an offensive line. They began to lay in a proper stance, using the natural cover of industry to their advantage as they bear down upon Covenant forces. It wouldn't be allowed to stand.

Another stray bolt was returned to the gun line, this time intentional in it's trajectory as it felled an older Zabrak to the side of Balun Dashiell as she twist the shot.

As her own troopers flanked her side to break the defensive line, Jorryn allowed a smile to cross her lips as she regarded the Jedi. A simple taunt, gloating over taking a life, yet if it managed to pull him away from the command he found himself in then it would be good enough.

Footsteps moved in tandem with the Sith troopers, pressing further into the starport. If they were going to sink this city, then moving past such a barricade would be the first step. And she would break it. A hand raised as she pulled at the movement of her trooper's blood, providing them a rush of adrenaline as they found themselves too enraged to care about seeking cover.

The renewed aggression raced towards the security, volleys of shots taking lives from both sides.

She wondered just how long this Jedi would play defence.

 

[Isobel Serraris]

Location — Aboard the Flickerfox, skies above Edic Bar, Genarius
Objective — Defend against the Sith onslaught
Tags — Acier Moonbound
Paraphernalia — Battle Armour, Lightsabers

/​

Blight--The rot in the garden clawing at life. It reeked of the dark side, and it had filled her nightmares ever since. The burning ache of a lightsaber seared into her side, branding her with the mark of defeat, and the metaphysical ire that clung to her akin to a curse. . . Each night, each day, each breath she spared, was tainted with Bogan's essence; the poison seeping into her wounds, striving to bend her will to its own. Yet it did not lure her--not to the dark, not to the corruption that came with. It... forebode something, gifted glimpses of a future, of a canvas yet to be painted in blood.

Crimson blades. Agonising screams. A city in the clouds tormented by the vessels of Chaos. Her skin crawled as the scene unfolded in her mind's eye. Quieted whimpers left her lips as she tried her best to remain in the meditative trance.

Focus.

The Light shall pierce through the Darkness.

Words repeated themselves in a mantra, battling the growing shadows in the thoughtscape. The metal in the room rattled violently around her, whether from the Force or the brutal atmospheric pressure, Isobel could not predict. The din did, however, break her focus, hurling her out of meditation and forcing her awkwardly onto her feet. Her attention turned to her Battle Armour, to the partially damaged bodyglove. A new patch of armourweave had been crudely sewn on with whatever tools--or rather no tools--she could find. Mayhaps Ashla would be merciful, and this would suffice in withstanding a lightsaber's blow, though the last wound still tormented her with its agonising barrage.

The Padawan stumbled out of the room, moving one hand over the walls to withstand the light turbulence upon entering the Genarius atmosphere. What if her visions lay in doubt? What if there was no assault to be defended against? That the Sith were elsewhere and that this was but a ruse to keep the Jedi and her rebel friend away from duty? What if her visions were nought?

With hurried steps she found the cockpit again, noticing Tic wander over the ship's control like a malfunctioning droid--or it was merely being itself. "Ace," Bel began, leaning on the co-pilot seat and staring upon the gas giant. "Dare I say, something feels off?." Obscure words brought no solace in uneasy times such as these, but they were true. Something was off, and the Force refused to shed a light upon it. Her eyes trailed toward a handful of the freighters approaching the city of Edic Bar, transports from the looks of it, nevertheless... a shadow of doubt clung to her being still. Begging her to see the truth veiled in the dark: "I got a bad feeling about this." She blurted out, glancing briefly at her white-haired friend.

Aware of how drastic such wording could sound, the girl bit her lip and reconsidered what may lessen the blow. "Or, it may just be your..." The flicker of a smile appeared on her face as she tried to conceal it poorly. "Clunky flying skills--I prefer a pilot droid." Isobel held up her hands in defense, attempting to bring a lighter note to the conversation lest it go up in flames.

​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

TITLE
LOCATION
LOCATION

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  
  • Gear/Armor
    • Mask
    • Right Gauntlet
    • Left Gauntlet
  • Nano-Tech Armor (For Emergencies)
  • Headset Microphone Comm-Link
  • Mobile "Bodycam" Datapad
  • Lightblaster
  • Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  • Throwing Lightknives
  • Force Blinding Flashbangs
  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 Vigilant Reaper dropped out of hyperspace in a snap of light and into the planet of Genarius’ atmosphere. Once doing so, the propellor drives engaged more or less cutting their sensor cross section and any real sensor pings. No, the ship was not completely invisible, but for what it was needed for, where the pilots were going( Michael Angellus )

Omega Squad was prepping their gear, they were going to assist (if silently) those of the High Republic in preventing some of the more catastrophic damage by sabotaging and laying traps.

Connel had a different assignment.

He was here because of one of his informants. Once of his best informants. The Republic could stand here on their own, they were more than capable, but Connel was here out of loyalty. He was going to drop in Edic Bar to find his friend while the rest of the team drop to start helping secure other areas of importance.

”APPROACHING DROP”. The booming voice called out over comms. Connel then got up, in full jump gear and made his way to the loading ramp. Jeremiel was already making hand signals as “Michael”(Bren Alazar) followed.

You sure you want to do this alone?

Something is telling me that I need to.

We’ll be on comms.

So will I. Good Hunting.

Good Hunting.

.

His jump target? A place high above the rest… a perfect “Sniper’s nest” for those who might want to wreak havoc.

TAGS • ARE • Genesis Draykin
Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Flickerfox - En route to Edic Bar

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic | Cybernetic Arm

Ace didn't look up at first. His hands stayed glued to the controls, eyes scanning the clouds ahead as the Flickerfox shuddered entering Genarius' upper atmosphere. Small vibrations crawled through the cockpit static, turbulence, or the Force making noise. Hard to tell these days.​

​

Tic chirped something unhelpful and jumped off the console like he hadn't been aggressively smashing buttons a second ago.​

​

Whatever Isobel had seen, whatever she'd dragged herself out of that meditation from, he'd already felt it swirling under his skin since they'd entered the system. The dark side wasn't quiet today. It wasn't subtle.​

​

"I don't know what you saw." He said, fingers tightening on the yoke, "But this isn't a scam. Not with that stench out there."​

​

And then her jab about his flying hit. He snorted, loud and unbothered. He jerked the ship sideways through a cross-current that absolutely no droid would've risked.​

​

"We both know a pilot droid would've tried to land us politely and gotten vaporized by now. No offence, Tic."​

​

Ace wasn't an... 'ace' but, he made it work. He hadn't died or crashed yet, so that was something.​

​

"Second… I'm better than clunky. I'm at least--" He tilted the ship under a streak of blaster fire from one incoming freighter. "--recklessly elegant."​

​

The humor lasted a heartbeat only for a moment. Then his eyes darkened. He didn't tell her about the pressure he felt ahead, about the way the Force felt stretched thin, like too many dark hands pulling from too many angles. He didn't need to. It was hard to miss.​

​

Ace centered himself, anchoring to the brightest, simplest thread in the whole mess: the people who needed him. Who needed them.​

​

"Strap in, Flowers." He murmured. "We're going in hot."​

​

He brought the Flickerfox in fast. The landing pad ahead was a mess, debris everywhere, alarms flashing red, a Tibanna vapor burst geysering up through a blown conduit. It wasn't ideal... or safe, but it was the closest thing to solid ground in a warzone.​

​

Ace dropped the gear and the freighter slammed down hard, skidding before the repulsors steadied her. The ship was still moving, still settling on her struts but he didn't wait.​

​

He hit the ramp button, sprinted past Tic, and jumped the second the hatch cleared enough for him to fit through. The landing struts hadn't even finished locking when his boots slammed against the ground.​

​

He didn't wait for Isobel, or Tic, his instincts were dragging him to whoever needed aid.​

​

Isobel Serraris | Vestra Tane​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Armor | Sword
Tags: Mykel Dawson | Jonyna Si | Shade
Varin Mortifer | Naniti
​

Upon the descent, the freighter’s rattling was but a lullaby to Lysander's ears, the vibrations soothing, as he sat along one of the walls. There, his forearms resting upon his knees. It had been laughably easy to pass through the planet's defenses.. as if Genarius had never considered the possibility of being prey. That was, until now, when the ship glided through the atmosphere in a way that hinted at something dark lurking. A few minor tricks and they were through.. a viper slipping through the cracks.

The Sith’s senses were heightened to a terrifying degree, as though one might taste the brewing of a storm before a single cloud could form. Beneath the ship’s hum there was another vibration, one that was distant.. yet all consuming. It was more than sound, it was impact.. a titan crashing down like an anvil into a lake. And so, the truth of that power struck him, violent as a bolt, unleashed upon the world, Darth Imperius revealed to him in full.

Around him, acolytes were preparing last minute checks. He did not join them right away. From Lysander’s lips, he hummed a soft melody that carried no words, those barely remembered learning, somewhere between Desevro’s cold stones and the Order’s rites. Procession.. coronation.. a funeral hymn, its meaning truly shifted, depending on where he chose to breathe life into it.

Today, it sounded like a prelude to a funeral.

Somewhere in the mix, he glanced over to Varin, meeting him with an incline of the chin, an exchanged understanding, a shared promise, forged from many ventures on Korriban, the birthplace of their dark destiny. For the first time during the journey, it was then he felt that familiar thrill of destruction, and the longing for a dance of death.

A moment later, the ramp hissed open, and the strike group split as planned.

When he stepped out into the light, his armor drank it in, reflecting the glint of malice in his icy emerald eyes. There was no cloak to snag, nor a helm to hide the truth of lineage.. or the intent that burned within him now. Once, beyond the reaches of Ukatis, he had never imagined that he would bring ruin in his wake.. but nothing would stop him now.

Their mission revolved around his mind.. to slice the refinery’s arteries, and bleed the city of all coordination. With fire and with destruction, it was destined to fall.

He addressed Varin first. “Take the northern junction. Shut down every relay you find. Do not wait for resistance.. break it.”

The trust there wasn’t spoken.. for it didn’t need to be. No matter where they roamed in the galaxy, he found himself turning more and more to Varin for the heavier tasks.

His attention slid to the Togruta next, and he felt an inward recognition. On this day, they would not be working side by side, as they had countless times recently. Her name was shaped on the next breath. “Naniti.. take the eastern side. Bring the towers down. Then disappear.” Perhaps the words were not as sharp then. “If trouble finds you.. call for me.”

Letting the air fill his lungs, he stepped past the acolyte, destination set. The path beckoned, toward the central heart, the point he intended to shatter.

He fled down the corridors, feeling the panicked pulses as civilians spilled ahead. The first to cross his path didn't meet his blade. A single sweep of the arm, the barest touch of the Force, and the figure was folded onto the floor in a broken heap.

​

​

 

[Vestra Tane]

Equipment: Lightsaber | Disruptor Pistol | Armorweave Coat | Rebreather

High above the Genarius skyline, The Last Laugh hovered, its cannons scanning the length and breadth of the city. It waited, impatient, for the command to unleash its volley, while its Mistress hunted for suitable entertainment.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Patience. It's a virtue.

Yeah, even for Sith.

Lightning crackled around Vestra, sat cross-legged and eyes closed in a cramped metal tube. Sparks jumped from her body, left scorches and pockmarks in the synthflesh coating her right arm, and utterly ruined several readout panels inside her drop pod. That was fine. Sensor arrays and scanners were for people with mortal, mundane senses. She could feel the battlefield - the creeping darkness of the encroaching Sith forces, and the valiant points of light, primed to stand and fight off the rising tide of slaughter.

And then - one point. One bright, shining light, that called to her. Alone, or near enough. Brave, and courageous, and ready to fight.

Vestra's face split into a smile, her teeth bared, glints of aurum and durasteel dimly glittering. This one looked like they'd be fun.

She raised a hand, and pointed a finger towards a map of the chaos, visible only in her mind. She waited, and waited, until the Laugh's lazy, prowling guns were aimed correctly...

"Fire."

And then the salvo. A barrage - turbolasers, warheads, ion cannons, and one lonely drop pod, all aimed at and around a single unlucky landing pad. A friendly greeting, at least by Sith standards.

Tags: Acier Moonbound

 

[Cerys Dyn]

She kept low, rolling and spinning from crate to crate, to keep behind cover. Dock maintenance workers were side by side with security as they took position around her. One of them shoved a blaster into her hand. Cerys looked down, wide eyed, and then up at the man. "If you are here. You fight." He said, with no debate.

Cerys nodded, in spite of no internal commitment, and then spun away — blaster in hand — and came to a stop behind a stack of three crates arranged in a simple triangular pattern. That was then the ship landed...the Jedi stepped into the fray...and everything erupted...

Her lekku buzzed with anticipation. The goal was certainly to escape — to leave and find a way to the next world. No use involving yourself in this. This was not her fight.

Then came A whisper of memory reaching as if from the grave, and her late master's words were clear. "A Jedi helps those in need."

Sparks erupted from the place she had been just moments earlier. When the smoke moved, the man who had demanded she fight...lay dead on the ground.

Cerys moved instinctively toward him, fuelled and distracted by guilt. Her progress was stopped by another sudden explosion of sparks beside her, the shot barely missing her and sending her spilling back onto the ground.

You may not be one of those Jedi...but you are still a Jedi...Cerys...

She stood, pulled her cloak around her, hiding both her appearance and her lightsabers, and she stood. "Fine," she said, more resignation than determination, "but as soon as this is done..."

Instincts took over, and from the side of the landing bay, Cerys began to fire from cover. Her target, the woman that looked to be leading this portion of the attack.

Her senses finally caught up, eyes flicked to the left, and then back to her target. It was unmistakable who else was here...Balun.

Balun Dashiell Jorryn Fordyce​

 

[Hwo]

Edic Bar. To borrow a phrase from an old historian, it was very much like Cloud City, but moreso. Its existence was entirely manmade, hovering above the valuable gas giant Genarius. The profits from mining and extraction activities were on full display in the city’s grand architecture, towering skyscrapers comprised of sharp angles and unique design. As far as urban environments go, it was breathtaking.

Hwo had barely stepped foot back on Naboo when the Jedi Order received the call. He did not enjoy being wrapped up in political entanglements and corporate dealings of the government and its various houses of nobility. Part of him wondered how quickly the High Republic would have requested their help had this not concerned the Verunas. But that was of little import now. The city was under attack, and his commitment to the Light would have him see this mission through and protect Edic Bar.

The streets were becoming chaotic as the Sith Covenant launched its assault. Civilians were fleeing, seeking shelter. Troops were on the move, preparing defenses and evacuation. Light explosions and blaster fire could be heard in the distance. With a nod to his fellow Jedi, Hwo exited the perceived safety of the administration building and joined the fray below.

Now he made his way through the crowd, weaving amidst the pedestrians running in a steady stream opposite of him. Hwo joined in with a squad of soldiers for a few blocks to better navigate the maze, then quietly departed from the group without a word. They had their own orders, and he understood his.

Ahead was a contingent of what appeared to be dark side acolytes and well-armed mercenaries. Hwo pursued them, picking up their rear as they approached the squad he had temporarily accompanied. In no time, the two sides were exchanging blaster fire. Two Sith ignited their blood red blades and readied themselves to slice through the Republic troops when Hwo stepped out behind them.

“Perhaps those weapons are more suitable for a Jedi, no?” They turned to him with glowing yellow eyes, overcome with dark energy. No hesitation. The smaller, quicker acolyte launched forward, followed closely by the larger, both clad in black robes and masks.

Hwo drew his own weapon, the green plasma a sign of hope. He fended off his first attacker, parrying a quick strike, but careful to keep both men in front of him. The second brought more power, following his comrade’s slice with a harsh overhead blow that crashed into Hwo’s lightsaber, exhibiting an electric discharge of sparks. As the smaller Sith lunged in with the intent to impale, Hwo collapsed his dominant hand, causing the larger Sith’s blade to slide across his and off the end, the downward momentum falling to block his partner’s stabbing motion. The Jedi followed this by bringing his left elbow up, connecting with the side of his larger opponent’s head, knocking him away to his right. The two seconds it took for him to recover was enough for Hwo to dispatch the smaller Sith, now plunging his freed lightsaber with both hands into his chest.

Furious at seeing his fellow acolyte fall, the remaining Sith returned with a volley of overhead strikes, alternating side to side as each attack was met with Hwo’s practiced defense. His frustration grew, and he gritted and growled as he pressed. That would ultimately be his downfall. In a fit of anger and with a demonic yell, he brought down his most powerful blow yet, but this time there was lightsaber to block it. Instead, his blade met nothing but air, causing him to stumble forward. Hwo had spun to the side, and he used this opening to complete a full rotation with his lightsaber held high and horizontal, decapitating the Sith.

While the body and head dropped separately to the ground, something else caught Hwo’s attention. A straggler. A man in tattered robes and showing zero care about the battle raging around him. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

Blade Ice