Invasion The Second Coming | TIC Invasion of TSO-Held Thandon Super Hex | Objective Three

[CT-312]

//: Allies: Quinn Varanin Drystan Creed Darth Hydra | TSO //:
//: Enemies: TIC (PvE) /:
//: Florrum Hypergate //:
//: Attire //:
//: EQUIPMENT: Halcyon Armour| M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack| M.I. 'Halo' jump boots | Contact Lenses | Wrist Mounted APG | Ancile Shield | Navi/Barca //:
//: PRIMARY WEAPONS: VW 864 Maser Rifle | LO-18D | FAE/W-12 Assault Carbine Mk. II //:
//: Secondary Weapons: LO-22S | FAE/W-17 Electromagnetic Plasma Hand Cannon | FAE/M-06 Eight Blade Razorline Projector| FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II //:
//: 40|40 Active Mag : 2 Backup Mags x LO-KI/22 Standard Slug Round //:
//: ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: Kushute Grenades | Shiva Knifes | S.A.N.D. Powder //:
//: Ion Grenades | Flash Grenades | Incendiary Grenades | Smoke Grenades //:
//: 1 x Arrow head of Absence | LK Spider Slicer Droid | FAE/C-03 BioMedical Support System//:
//: OBJ 3 - RAISE THE FLAG! //:​

Boots echoed as CT-312 moved through the corridor of the Mors Mon at an even measured pace. This was only the second time she had walked these halls. The first time had not been by choice. Being “selected” and dragged through to attend what they called a "Ceremony". CT-312 remembered the way the ship pressed in on her and just as back then, she felt it now. The atmosphere was dense and heavy. Her discipline held. Training ingrained deeper than instinct kept her breathing controlled and shoulder squared. Her steps did not falter as her stride was smooth. Letting the pressure exist without reacting to it.

The Princess had been distant.

CT-312 understood distance. Understood when space was needed and when silence served better than words. But this was different. Something had gone wrong on Coruscant. Whatever had happened there had not stayed behind. Through the bond, she felt it. It wasn’t images or words, but weight. Guilt like gravity with resolve hardening. There was something else. Something that the Scout had difficult deciphering. But it felt like hurt. CT-312 could feel it. Recognizing the signs that whatever Quinn was wrestling with… was threatening to fracture her.

It unnerved her more than any display of rage ever could.

A bodyguard protected against threats she could see. To put herself between, intercept. How was she supposed to do her job like this? This… this was internal. Private and untouchable. CT-312 didn’t know what to do. And now, in a cruel twist of timing, the Imperial Confederation had chosen to strike. Again.

Her jaw tightened. Brosi. Last time she had been on the ground it was knee-deep in blights as she was securing processing plants. Now, the planet had twisted into something quite opposite. The images she had seen showed the planet covered in life: plants, trees, and large bodies of water. For a heartbeat, memories clawed at her. Echoes of long ago. The lights shifted overhead, dragging CT-312 back to the present. A low tone rippled through the ship, followed by notifications that the Mors Mon prepared to enter hyperspace.

As CT-312 redirected toward one of the hanger bays, thoughts returned to the Princess. Quinn would be at the helm— or at least deep within the ship, doing whatever only she could do. She would be safe here. The sense of distance stretched further. Tugging at something in CT-312’s chest she refused to name. A question stirred uncomfortably at the back of her thoughts. It wasn’t fear nor doubt, but relevance.

If she was no longer needed, replaced… then CT-312 would ensure there would be others around who were sharp and capable enough to take her place. Quiet contingencies were already forming. Quinn didn’t know yet.

There would be time… or there wouldn’t.

—

Reaching the hanger, it opened around her. It was immense, stretching out like a cavern carved into the ship. The ceiling vanished into shadow. Massive support struts and cold strips of light made the space feel more like a fortress. Ray shields shimmered at the launch apertures, holding back the void. CT-312 took a quick detour towards the rows of Dûr'ashaarai fighters that waited in silence. Each was chained down with heavy seals. The air hummed with power and contained violence. Engineers moved between them with practiced care.

A sliver of humor touched the Scout. It was brief and dry. Last time she’d been here, the floor had been littered with bodies. Hundreds, if not thousands. One ship sat slightly off its assigned row. Subtly out of alignment, one she came to recognize. CT-312 changed course, stopping before it. Her helmet turned toward a nearby engineer. “Prep the ship. Stand-by readiness.” Her gloved hand rested against the frame for a second longer than necessary.

The response was immediate. Not words or sound, but a surge of intent. Raw. Eager. Violent. A hunger for release and motion. For impact. It seeped against her thoughts and pressed at CT-312’s composure. She withdrew her hand and moved on before it could take root.

At the edge of the bay, behind the shimmering ray shields. BARCA pinged a familiar IFF. The Scout’s visor settled on the figure waiting beside a boarding craft. “ Darth Hydra ” Her helmet dipped in a respectful nod. “You’re early. Good to see you again.” CT-312’s hands moved, doing a systems and equipment check. Another ping followed— from behind. She didn’t have to turn. “ Drystan Creed ” A rifle slider snapped into place. “Good to see you’re not dead.” Holstering the rifle. “Looks like we’re fighting on the same side this time.”

CT-312 angled herself to face both of them. “Our objective is to protect the hypergate as we enter the Florrum system. Imperial Confederation vessels are the primary target. We’re a small strike—”

A warning tone cut through the hanger as the Mors Mon tore back into realspace. Appearing behind the Sith fleet. Silence followed. There was no immediate fire. No alarms. Beyond the ray shields, fleets hung in uneasy balance. The Sith warships were distinct and varied. Some bore no markings while others were marked by banners of their respective armadas. Across from them, Imperial formation was uniformed and precise. Coldly identical. Two philosophies facing one another across open space.

Waiting to see who would make the first move.

Then— it hit her. A massive pressure rolled outward like a tide. It didn’t cloud… it ordered. The noise in CT-312’s mind fell away as clarity took hold. Weight and doubt burned away as resolved tightened until there was no room left of anything unnecessary. Movement felt inevitable rather than forced, guided by something larger than herself. Purpose narrowing until only one truth remained.

The interruption she’d begun earlier finished itself. “—small strike team. That’s what we are.” CT-312 moved to the front of the bay, stopping just short of the ray shields. Blinking hard once, her lenses— zoomed in, on a Star Destroyer stationed at the far edge of the Imperial Confederation's formation.

“There.” She pointed with a gloved hand. Another hard blink— zoom out, her vision widened back to normal. CT-312 looked back at Darth Hydra and then to Drystan. Through the helmet’s vocoder, her tone came out certain and steady. “We don’t hold ground by standing still.” Extending a gloved hand toward Drystan.

“How good is your aim.”

 

[Onrai]

Deck of the Ablution
Florrum Fringe
Tags: ???

The aging warship, whose scarred hull had been through many battles and worn many flags, entered the edges of the Florrum system, deliberately kept away from the conflict happening deeper within the system. Its hyperdrives were prepped for ready activation at any given point in time - a deliberate move given the ambitious plays that were planned. The figure of Vanessa Vantai, still ageless as ever, overlooked a crew that was not entirely flesh, having had their mortality extended through the use of biofiber implants. They were loyal, their children were loyal, and their grandchildren were loyal - something that she cared about substantially moreso than most other quantities.

The ship's sojourn into the blasphemous realm of Otherspace, into the places that few had managed to tread, had given her an understanding of the ancient ones few yet understood. The hypergates, means to defy the laws of reality even greater than that of the hyperdrive itself, allowed for near-instantaneous transit between locations. She understood them, how they worked and how they operated - she had even built a prototype during her time as ruler of Ord Mantell, an experimental construct that connected to the gateway of Tython and which had allowed for the escape of countless soldiers once upon a time. This knowledge would now be tested. A simple order was given to the sparse bridge crew who worked on well-worn consoles and sat-through seats.

"Open up a communications channel to the gate."

 

[Darth Nefaron]

ALLIED TAGS: Hasuras Na-Gerra , Elmindra Xitaar , Amelia von Sorenn , Seela Leini , Quinn Varanin , Onrai , @CT
ENEMY TAGS: Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , Ronhar Tane Karl Von Strauss , Calin Rakel , Marlon Sularen

Spoiler

Kesmas-Class: Terrorizer (24 Fi-3 "Tomb" Class Starfighters)
Kesmas-Class: Lash (24 Fi-3 "Tomb" Class Starfighters)
Kesmas-Class: Damnation (Flagship) (23 Fi-3 "Tomb" Class Starfighters, 1 Insidious-Class Infiltrator)
11 Orthanc-Class Boarding Frigates

Darth Nefaron was no tactician.
​

The Imperials prided themselves on their mastery of war, of their great academies that produced the best and brightest of the Confederation. Perhaps if they faced a traditional enemy, an enemy who would meet them head-on and engage in honorable battle, they might triumph.

But the Sith have no honor. They desire only domination.

That is what Nefaron knew. He knew what it meant to so utterly crush a being that they would beg for the release of death. Let others fight war; what the Terror Lord sought was to play a game, and his games inevitably ended with untold suffering.

"As you wish, my friend. The Grand Admiral will be yours so long as you can claim him. Unfortunately, I do not believe you are alone in hunting this particular prey."

Of course, the Grand Admiral would be a target, one who had for so long opposed the Sith Empire and held true to the ideals of an Empire that did not serve the Dark Side, but alas, such opposition was bound to make him many enemies. Nefaron had no stake in this game, but he would certainly enjoy watching it play out, especially with the Mors Mon now in play and the arrival of a force of Alliance ships, ships that appeared to leap from the pages of history to once more do battle with the Imperials, but to what end? A final desperate hoorah for the dead Galactic Alliance, or as a boon to the Sith? Regardless, the Corpse Lord's interest was piqued even further.

But battle had begun, and while it appeared the rogue Alliance fleet had done its job and drawn the Imperials' attention, it was now time to probe the line and see just what cards the confederation had to play.

“Time to test their resolve. Order three of our frigates forward to screen for their fighter craft. Prime our missile batteries and prepare to engage the nearest Imperial ship. Disable them if possible, no doubt a bounty of technical crew and engineers would serve our forages on Anoat well.”

“Yes, Lord, as you command!”

 

[Wilhelm Vonreg]

T H E_S E C O N D_C O M I N G
Objective III : Raise the Flag

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
FLORRUM, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

"It will be done sir"

Vonreg stood up, having waited patiently for the Supreme Commander's confirmation for deployment. Sitting beside him was his wingmate, his own daughter Erika Vonreg who was busy toying around with her helmet as she grew upatient. "Erika. It's time." he said. "Finally. It's about time." Erika responded as she put her helmet on, eager to finally join the fray. This was her first deployment on the battlefield since her recent graduation from the Imperial Academy at Cholganna and naturally she had been assigned under her father who had guided her throughout her academy days.

Like most fresh recruits Erika was ambitious and eager to join the fight, and had yet to experience the degree of betrayal and loss that her father had suffered. Whether or not she herself would experience such hardships throughout her career, only time would tell. Vonreg already knew his time was running out as his retirement was right around the corner. Until then he would continue to serve and guide his daughter on the path that would see her eventually replace him and eventually eclipse him.

Soon enough the father-daughter duo would arrive at one of the smaller hangars of the INV Sularen's Revenge where a pair of TIE/DT Destroyer Mark IIs awaited them. After climbing inside the cockpit and making their final pre-flight checks, the TIEs would soon rush out of the hangar and join the defensive starfighter screen previously deployed by the Supreme Commander. "Attention all Squadrons, this is Baron Vonreg. Form up on me.= and watch out for those wormholes" he ordered as he flew past the screen and began to head towards the Sith Fleet, with the rest of the starfighter screen following suit as joined up with the Crimson Baron.

Before long a whole swarm of hundreds of TIEs began to descend upon the Sith Fleet getting closer and closer to the Omen and it's escorts. This was were the fun really began, Vonreg thought as the silhouettes of the Sith warships grew bigger and bigger.

Tags [Friendlies] | Karl Von Strauss | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel
Tags [Hostiles] | Seela Leini | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Darth Nefaron | Amelia von Sorenn | Elmindra Xitaar | Quinn Varanin ​

 

[Drystan Creed]

OBJECTIVE III

FLASHBACK​

"So yeah, I'm kinda' a big deal. Dark councilor's top guy and all. You do know what I'm talking about right?" Sandaled feet pitched up against the fabric topped wicker stool, glass casually nursed in the grip of his bionic left hand, rum mingled with lime.

Drystan continued to spin his yarn of half-truths and stretched facts, situated atop a lounging spot paces across the white beach shores of Scarif. His audience dwindled to a near-empty crowd of bar flies, a half-ear cocked to the fabric spun by his words.

Garbed in the love-child of floral fabric and a homeless waster, the former Jedi Shadow smiled in contentment. A beach bum in every facet of the term. The white noise of sea breeze and tropical waves crashing on the milk-pearl sand flattened against the hammering of the buzzing comlink in his shirt pocket.

"You know who it is." His lazy reply halted abruptly as he straightened up, posture stiff-rigid in the soft fabric of his seat.

"Brosi? Again?" Massaging the creases forming on his brow, Drystan stood and tossed the bartender a cred stick. "So much for shore leave."

Withdrawing from the bar, Drystan retired to his confined suite, eyes turning to his closet, half ajar. Eyes scanned toward the peeking bits of midnight black, his blade half drawn from its sheath, vermillion blossoming upon its edge, drowning it brightly with a blood-red hue.

PRESENT

​

Gliding through the halls like a shadow resurrected, Drystan tucked firmly his hands within the pockets of his jacket, a midnight affair that obscured partially the metal plating sharing its palette. His outfit now a dull yet sleek affair of blacks and accents of crimson, the upper half of his face obscured by his trademark visor.

He recalled seeing the Mors Mon once in his previous life, it seemed so large when looking from the outside. Now it just felt awkward standing here. Or perhaps that was the sinister yet inconveniently cold draft that permeated in every inhale of his lungs. Would it be out of turn to ask for a warmer interior? Questions that ought to be raised to the higher ups of the order, but maybe in fine print as opposed to a casual request. Everything gets bureaucratic with an increase in size, and if the Mors Mon was a representation of size...

His thoughts were cut short by the arrival of others. He gave 312 and the other, who appeared to be a Sith of some capacity, a casual wave.

"Not yet. If I'm lucky I'll get there." He listened to the mission briefing, though his mind wandered, honing in on the subtle tugs and pulls from a foreign entity that trespassed within, raising an eyebrow.

Is that you, princess?

An outward and visible scoff filled the room, crossing his arms at the realization.

Alright, I'll let you in. Just this once.

Her tendril-hands were given permission to steer his mind, to tilt his chin up and aim his vision to soaring heights, the path clear and spirit honed, sharpened; his entire being a weapon to be unleashed. All that was needed was a proper hand to guide and wield.

312's question brought his focus back, Drystan offered a shrug. "As good as it always is."

She needn't explain further, Drystan's hand already clasping her forearm and with the esoteric aid of The Force, threw her toward the next oncoming spacecraft. His help in facilitating an expedited boarding done, the rest now left up to the trooper.

Quinn Varanin CT-312 Darth Hydra

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN JONASANT HOKKLEY
OBJECTIVE III: RAISE THE FLAG!
FLORRUM HYPERGATE

Though it had just been approved for service mere weeks ago, the CR90-EE Corvette was already paying dividends for the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant. The designer of this bizarre vessel must have clearly been on some amount of Death Sticks because a vessel like the CR90-EE Corvette would have never been approved under more normal circumstances. The vessel was essentially the front third of a CR90 Corvette bolted to a Star Destroyer sized engine, giving the ship an absurd amount of speed for something of its size. Combined with its NZ SLAB-01 SubLight AfterBurner, the CR90-EE Corvette could outrun just about anything that the galaxy might have to offer, though the ship's onboard armament did leave something to be desired.

That being said, a quartet of NZ LC-2A Laser Cannons and a pair of dual NZ HP1 TurboLaser Turrets would be more than sufficient to take out whatever it was hunting down the Hyper-Jammers of the Imperial Remnant. Initial reports on their attacker had determined the cause to be some sort of Sith Fighter that the Imperial Remnant had never encountered before, though it was clearly powerful enough to destroy starship sized combat assets in a single shot. It was, to Captain Hokkley's knowledge, currently being pursued by a flight of TIE Vultures, though as fast as the Droid Starfighters were, even they were having trouble keeping up with their quarry.

For his part, Captain Hokkley had been dodging point defense laser fire and ion cannon blasts for the last several minutes as his ship, the MIN Pathfinder, continued to scout out the Sith Fleet, passing along critical information to Imperial Forces about what the Sith had brought with them for this critically important space battle. That task, however, would have to wait, as ensuring the survival of the Imperial Remnant's Hyper-Jammers was just as, if not more important, than gathering intelligence. If they were destroyed, the Imperial Remnant's electronic warfare capabilities would be much reduced. Hokkley was determined to prevent that from happening.

Thanks to the TIE Vultures, he had some idea where the Sith's ship was heading, though of course he could only predict where it would end up, He plotted a course to intercept, since he was flying away from the main Sith Fleet, he was fairly certain he'd be able to catch the fleeing Sith Starfighter before it made its way back to enemy lines. Hokkley took a deep breath as he prepared to give his favorite order:

"Activate SLAB! Full speed ahead! Let's get this Sith loving scumbag!"

With that, the Pathfinder began accelerating to the extreme, pushing its massive engine to its absolute limit. For a battlefield so vast, Hokkley could barely comprehend the speed at which he was traversing it, and sooner or later, he would find that fighter that was causing the Imperial's so much trouble and destroy it once and for all!

Unfortunately, even with the speed that his vessel was capable of achieving, there was no way Hokkley would be able to reach the second Hyper-Jammer that Seela Leini had attacked. As another hyper-ionized particle bolt streaked across the battlefield, it managed to find a gap in the ad hoc "shield" formation that the TIE Vultures had created around the Hyper-Jammer, and it did manage to strike its intended target. Unlike the first time however, the shot had grazed the Hyper-Jammer instead of outright destroying it, blowing away a large chunk of the ship's hyperdrive ring structure. Though the ship was still flying, the effect on it was immediate, and the Hyper-Jammer began to spin wildly out of control, forcing its pilot to use every ounce of their physical strength to get their ship flying straight again. The TIE Vultures instantly dispersed, to give the ship room to get back on track, and by some miracle the Hyper-Jammer somehow managed to correct its course, though the damage that it had received had effectively removed it from the fight.

TAGS:
Seela Leini

 

[Darth Hydra]

OBJECTIVE III
TAG: Quinn Varanin Drystan Creed CT-312​

Hydra was musing on the appropriateness of a Sith Master being under the command of a trooper. He supposed he could quibble the point that the team wasn't really under her command. Fact was though here he was following her lead. It rankled his sith pride, but then Hydra's experience of combat was of the personal variety, he wasn't so blind with pride or inflated sense of power that he couldn't recognise the flaws in his education. He had grown bored hunting down isolated Jedi in ones and twos, while he had in his long life participated in battles before it had never been as part of a coordinated strategy beyond being told whom he may or mayn't kill.

Perhaps Hydra should consider this a learning opportunity, to learn the tactical applications of an operation during the chaos of a major fleet battle. Hydra just wished it was under the leadership of someone with more austerity. While both he and the trooper who regarded herself by her designation 312 were both warriors, Hydra considered himself rather refined. A Sith philosopher as much as a Sith warrior. It allowed him a certain amount of flexibility of mind, that most other Sith seemed to lack. Meaning he was able to put aside his sense of natural Sith superiority long enough to complete a mission.

It helped considerably that CT-312 had performed well under strain during their last encounter, another mission of considerably less significance than todays. Hydra had confidence in her abilities within her limitations, he was less sanguine about his own ability to lead a vital mission of troops. Most of Hydra's leadership involved pirates and acolytes.

It was a grating flaw in his abilities which if he were to correct properly, he may as well start from the ground up. Still it rankled.

Hydra took a breath as he felt the battle meditation wash over him, he took a deep breath closed his eyes briefly, then relaxed, his mind clear, his heart purposeful, the dark side swirling around him. He was home.

The other member of their party Hydra was considerably less confident of reliability. He seemed… casual, flippant, far to relaxed. Not the sort of relaxed a warrior gets before a battle, but the lazy relaxation of a man overly arrogant in his abilities. Hydra would have to remain a wary watchfulness on the man throughout the mission.

Hydra raised an eyebrow, a twitch of his tentacles in amusement, a small smile at the two other members of his party's antics. It would be easy to call them fools, dismiss them as idiots, but he was aware that moments of levity were crucial to most warriors. They eased tension, reinforced belief in what you were doing, forged bonds of loyalty not easily shaken even in battle. They were not fools, but Hydra could not help but think of them as children. Then again most everyone came to be viewed as a child after a century or so.

Folding his arms he stepped back as the one known as Drystan Creed launched CT-312 through space. Hydra decided to engage with some of the light levity. He'd studied enough battle philosophy to recognise it's worth in ensuring good cohesion in the unit.

"I suppose this sport would be called Trooper Ball" Hydra murmured with a small hmph the closest he ever get to full blown laughter.

 

[Seela Leini]

Location: Florrum System
Thread Objective: Blooms and Booms
Mission Objective:

• Destroy high-value Imperial Confederation targets.
• Provide overwatch for Sith Order starfighter squadrons.

Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Allies: Hasuras Na-Gerra Darth Nefaron Elmindra Xitaar Amelia von Sorenn Quinn Varanin
Enemies: Karl Von Strauss Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory Calin Rakel Marlon Sularen
Direct Engagement: Wilhelm Vonreg Ronhar Tane
Call Sign: Fragile Dancer

The Force storm raged crimson and black in the void. Her sensors flickered as distance and depth became a haze, forcing Seela to fly by sight as she pushed her starfighter in an effort to outpace the TIE Vultures hot on her tail. Fortunately, the speed of the Nemesis-class proved superior to that of the droid fighters, leaving them unable to get into weapons range. All the while, the haze of the storm gave way within her perception. Clarity returned. Her thoughts came faster and more focused. Her senses heightened.

In that, Sella felt the approaching Imperial electronic warfare corvette as a looming presence before she processed it on her sensors. It was much bigger—and faster—than the droid fighters, and it tore through space in a manner akin to a comet, quickly swallowing the distance which separated her from it.

It was then that space ahead of her rippled, warped, then ignited in a flash of distorted gravity and light. The image coalesced, and before her eyes a wormhole bloomed into being, forming a cerulean maelstrom veined with milky spirals and luminous turbulence.

Seela hit the SLAM and punched through the swirling aperture, which immediately sealed shut in her wake.

A cascade of dancing blue-white lights filled her viewport, so intense that it automatically dimmed to protect her eyes. The starfighter groaned, its frame protesting the violent transition. However, after a couple seconds, the lights exploded and collapsed as the wormhole deposited her back into realspace. For a moment, her sensors went haywire, before restabilizing as the droid brain processed what had just occurred.

Full clarity returned. The Imperial corvette was now a significant distance ahead of her, its massive aft engine presenting an enticingly vulnerable profile. It would have to turn around in order to re-initiate the pursuit.

Seela did not intend to give it the opportunity.

Unconsciously holding her breath, she lined up her crosshairs over the nexus of the corvette’s colossal aft star-drive and willed the sniper cannons to fire. A pair of hyper-ionized particle bolts cut through realspace one after the other, each aimed with surgical precision to cripple the Imperial corvette’s most potent weapon: its speed!

Spoiler: Loadout

Craft: Nemesis-class Eliminator-Starfighter

• Status
  
  • Shields: 100%
  • Hull: 100%
  • Structure: 100%
• Armament
  
  • FAE/SW-12 Sniper Laser Cannon (2) - Elongated Forward Prongs
  • FAE/SW-10 Hybrid Scattercannon - Medium (2) - Underslung Cockpit
  • Missile Pod (2) - Ventral
    
    • FAE/WH-04-S4 Universal Missile - Plasma Warhead (4)
    • FAE/WH-04-S4 Universal Missile - Concussion Warhead (4)
• Pilot Equipment
  
  • FAE/A-09 Anti-G Suit
  • KIIR-24 'Stormclaw' Gauss Pistol
    
    • Attachments
      
      • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Ammunition
      
      • 64 Round Quad-Chamber Magazine (4)
        
        • GC-01 Slugs (64)

 

[Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory]

Location: Florrum Hypergate; aboard the Gluttoneria
Objective: III - Raise the Flag
Fleet: See bottom Post

TAG: Calin Rakel | Ronhar Tane | Marlon Sularen | Karl Von Strauss | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Darth Nefaron | Quinn Varanin | Seela Leini

THE CROW FLEET
​

Spoiler: Crow Fleet

• NZ Dictator III-Class Super Battlecruiser - The Gluttoneria 100|100 CLOAK ACTIVE​
  • Starfighters​
    • 10 Squadrons of NZ Gala IV/B Starfighter [160]​
    • 10 Squadrons of AX Wings [120]​
    • 10 Squadrons of TIE/Vulture [200]​
  • Support​
    • 10 Squadrons of NZ TIE/sb Strike Bomber [120]​
    • 2 Lambda Class YT Annihilator​

• NZ Claymore Class Carrier - INV Arrogante 100|100​
  • Starfighters​
    • 5 Squadrons of TIE/Vulture [100] departed​
    • 3 Squadrons of NZ Gala IV/B Starfighter [48]​
  • Support​
    • 2 Squadrons of NZ TIE/sb Strike Bomber [24]​
    • 2 Lambda Class YT Annihilator​

• NZ Claymore Class Carrier - INV Diabolo 100|100​
  • Starfighters​
    • 5 Squadrons of TIE/Vulture [100] departed​
    • 3 Squadrons of NZ Gala IV/B Starfighter [48]​
  • Support​
    • 2 Squadrons of NZ TIE/sb Strike Bomber [24]​
    • 2 Lambda Class YT Annihilator​

• NZ Tyrant IV Class Suppression Cruiser - INV Veni 100|100​
  • Starfighters​
    • 3 Squadrons of TIE/Vulture [100] departed​
  • Support​
    • 1 Squadrons of NZ TIE/sb Strike Bomber [24]​

• NZ Tyrant IV Class Suppression Cruiser - INV Vidi 100|100​
  • Starfighters​
    • 3 Squadrons of TIE/Vulture [100] departed​
  • Support​
    • 1 Squadrons of NZ TIE/sb Strike Bomber [24]​

• NZ Tyrant IV Class Suppression Cruiser - INV Vici 100|100​
  • Starfighters​
    • 3 Squadrons of TIE/Vulture [100] departed​
  • Support​
    • 1 Squadrons of NZ TIE/sb Strike Bomber [24]​
    • ​
• STRIKE GROUP ONE
• NZ Javelin Strike Corvette - INV Sirius 100|100​
• NZ Javelin Strike Corvette - INV Orion 100|100​
• TIE/Vulture 9 squadrons [180 total]​

• STRIKE GROUP TWO
• NZ Javelin Strike Corvette - INV Andro 100|100​
• NZ Javelin Strike Corvette - INV Meda 100|100​
• TIE/Vulture 10 squadrons [200 total]​

The actions of the sith were troubling, with the arrival of the Mors Mon indicating they were taking this seriously, adding on top of that the constant, lingering...nay, battering feeling of fear and dread. These were not good combinations and would wear down on all imperial personel, even if they had been temporarily roused by the governor's words. While she worried less about those directly under her command, due to their actual, practical experiences with such feelings of dread, she could not vouch for the men under the command of Admiral Zonnil, Rakel, the Supreme Commander's men nor those under the command of the Exarch.

Watching the holographic display on the bridge with great interest, Amalia had to agree in silence that while her missile screen might've worked, it did not nearly have enough of an impact to make the Sith warmachine shudder or twitch, partly due to the force storms ravaging in between the two massive combined fleets.

"This is like a wookie's wet furr, highly annoying and it smells fishy," Tilting her head backwards, the woman let out a long, deep sigh, as her hair slowly began to lose it's deep, jet black color. With one hand covering her eyes, though only partially, revealing the now crimson eyes with golden veins behind them, the chuckle stopped and her lips curled into a wide, wicked grin. "Open up a channel with the engineering crew in cooling bay one and two."

The communication's officer, unfazed by the governor's change in appearance, nodded and opened up an internal channel.

"Gentlemen, I want you to keep an eye out for any irregularities... we are going to prime the apollyons, maintain a stable temperature and coolant flow," With those words said, the woman made a motion with her hand across her throat, giving the communication's officer the sign to cut the channel, while the weapon's officers already began the procedure to prime the Gluttoneria's main weapon system. If they couldn't pass through the field, they would simply have to level it. With her attention turning towards the communications officer again, Amalia smiled and nodded. no words were needed, as the man opened up secure channels to all vessels within the Crow Fleet. "Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see we are in a predicament...moving forward is a hassle and needs precise navigating with those force storms barring our progress. As such, I want all our Javelins to maneuver around the force storms as spear points for a flanking run. Send out all available TIE Vultures, split up in two attack groups and make a strafing run to harass this fleet."

She pointed at the holographic display, where Darth Nefaron 's fleet was located, while it at first glance looked smaller, besides the Mors Mon, it was one of the key players in this sense of dread befalling the imperials and simply distracting this fleet would allow for a breakthrough, that's what she believed. "Relay my intent to Marlon Sularen , Karl Von Strauss and Calin Rakel . Admiral Zonill will most likely realize the plan just from looking at our movement, they have seen this before."

With no further words being wasted, the communication's officer relayed the governor's battleplan to the other leading figures among the imperial fleet, all the while having their junior ensigns coordinate the sudden departure of the four Javelin Corvettes and the entire contingent of TIE/Vultures the Crow Fleet had aside from the squadrons aboard the Gluttoneria.

They would begin to rush through the no man's space in between the two major fleets, a sea of small TIEs led by sleek looking corvettes, rushing like two swarms of angry hornets towards Darth Nefaron 's fleet, attempting to strafe it by both sides, attempting to form a pincer maneuver to maximize the effect and the damage with their L-s1 laser cannons , NZ LC-2A Laser Canons, and NZ HP1 Turbo Lasers, while the Javelins utilized their full arsenal by priming their own rocket launchers in an attempt to firebomb the fleet's capital ships with their NZ RP-3GMIM Guided Mass Incendiary Missiles...

​

Spoiler: actions

• Creating two battlegroups consisting out of two Javelin Class strike Corvettes and 9 and 10 TIE/Vulture squadrons respectively [see fleet comp]​
• Sending both Battlegroups towards Darth Nefaron 's fleet attempting a strafing run and a pincer movement, planning to cripple the main capital ships and distract nefaron and by extension perhaps the entire sith fleet in general.​

​

​

 

[Elmindra Xitaar]

OBJECTIVE 3
OUTER RIM | STYGIAN CALDERA | DOSTRA SYSTEM | BROSI
[SO] Darth Nefaron | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Amelia von Sorenn | Quinn Varanin | Seela Leini
[TIC] Marlon Sularen | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel | Karl Von Strauss | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Wilhelm Vonreg

​

The last Imperial ships tore free of hyperspace in a staggered cascade, their emergence precise, controlled. Elmindra watched them settle into a tight, disciplined defensive lattice—not the reckless sprawl she remembered from Brosi.

So, she thought coolly, you did learn something.

Her gaze flicked across the tactical display as threat markers stabilized. The Imperials did not surge forward. They held. Probing.

Korriban and her allies did not answer the hesitation with aggression. Not yet. Their own formations remained immovable around the Hyper Gate, a ring of iron and malice that made no pretense of pursuit. Elmindra felt the battle's emotional pressure building, coiling like a stormfront waiting to break.

Then despair washed across the void. It came from Hasuras Na-Gerra's flagship—an abrupt, suffocating plunge in the Force. The Qhan of the Vahla reached outward without subtlety, his will a crushing wave of inevitability and ruin.

As if summoned by that crescendo, another presence arrived—Quinn Varanin. The heir's influence descended like a cold star igniting, elegant and catastrophic. Dread intensified—not raw, but refined—and Elmindra felt Quinn's will braid seamlessly into her own network, reinforcing it, accelerating it. Force storms flared in the void, space itself warping as micro-singularities winked in and out of existence, distorting sensor returns and shredding Imperial targeting coherence.

Elmindra inhaled slowly, savoring the convergence. Then the Imperials broke. Enemy carriers surged forward, launching clouds of TIE fighters that screamed toward Korriban's line in a black tide. Capital ships followed, batteries powering up in near-unison—too many locks, too much energy, all of it aimed squarely at her.

Warnings overlapped across the command deck.

"Multiple fighter swarms inbound—"​

"Enemy carriers engaging strike frigates—"​

"Capital weapons charging, bearing zero-three-seven—"​

"Primary locks on The Omen—"​

Elmindra laughed softly, the sound sharp and pleased.

"Of course," she murmured. "It appears they have some taste after all."

Her hand rose, fingers splaying as her will surged outward.

"Release the line," she commanded. "Squadrons—engage."

A majority of Korriban's Interceptors, heavy fighters, bombers—hundreds—slammed into the oncoming TIE swarm, while the remainder maintained a tight defensive screen around the larger ships. Though outnumbered, Elmindra's pilots moved as one organism, their maneuvers impossibly synchronized through her Battle Meditation, luring the TIEs into kill pockets that closed like jaws. Where the Imperials relied on numbers, she gave her fleet unity.

"Captain," she sent across the private channel. "Hold your screen."

"I understand," he replied. Elmindra felt his composure ripple through his crews, a steadying counterpoint to the chaos.

Countermeasures ignited across her formation. Missile Deactivation Transmitters flared to life aboard The Omen, the interdictors, and their escorts. Heavy cruisers launched antimissile octets in dense defensive webs while anti-starfighter cluster bombs blossomed into lethal shrapnel clouds. Wolfpack Red tightened around the Sondheimer, Commonwealth patrol corvettes projecting anti-ordnance fields that detonated incoming munitions prematurely and raked any ship foolish enough to press the interdictor with synchronized, disciplined fire.

"Divert power," Elmindra ordered. "Maximum to forward shields."

The Omen's deflectors thickened, flaring crimson as energy poured into them. For a heartbeat, it seemed enough—then the enemy battlecruiser fired.

The beam struck like a god's spear, slamming into The Omen's shields with a force that rippled through the deck beneath Elmindra's feet. Consoles flared. Shields plummeted. And the beam did not stop. It held. Locked on, sustained, chewing through layered defenses second by second. Elmindra's eyes narrowed.

"Persistent," she observed, almost approving.

A heavy cruiser lunged into the beam's path without hesitation. It's shields held for now, but they it would soon be crushed beneath the devastating sustained beam. Elmindra turned on her heal and strode toward the meditation sphere built into the command deck.

"Withdraw The Omen," she commanded, stepping inside the sphere. "Into the inner ring."

As the flagship fell back, Elmindra reached deep—past flesh, past thought—and called. The Jen'Quazoi answered.

Mist Wraiths poured forth, spectral and vast, engulfing The Omen in roiling fog shot through with sickly luminescence. Lights and readouts flickered beneath their oppressive embrace, transmissions became spotty, but what the interference effect of the creatures was well worth the protection they provided Elmindra's flagship. She did not need to rely on the technology of her ship when she had a direct connection with her entire fleet that gave her an almost omniscient awareness of the battlefield. As she sank deeper into her Battle Meditation, she became the many thousands of minds that made up her fleet.

Feeling her will through the Force, the captain of the Invictus finally pursued the attack, his defensive line breaking into decisive violence. The Korvos-class Star Destroyer surged forward from the defensive line, engines flaring as it slipped past overlapping fire corridors with surgical precision.

"All batteries," he ordered. "Mass Driver Cannons—MAC mode."

As the Korvos advanced, strike frigates and fighters lead the charge in tandem, their attack vectors spiraling outward to rake escorts and exposed weapon emplacements.

To the Mist Wraiths, Elmindra's command was silent, absolute: Feed. Radiation bled into the void as some of them drifted outward, slipping between allied hulls and then through the enemy swarm. TIE fighters vanished into the mist, instruments screaming. Reality fractured around them, encouraging weapons to turn on phantoms or each other.

Beneath her silent command, the Axial Cannon began to charge.​

​

Spoiler: FLEET COMP

Total meterage = 19,360
(Reclaiming 6,300 meterage because Ufsa'zekhn'narun is no longer participating in the objective)

Spoiler: PERMISSIONS

Commonwealth starships
Interdictor-class Heavy Cruiser

THE HORUSET ARMADA

VESSEL	SHIELDS	HULL
The Omen	20%	90%
Interdictor-class Heavy Cruiser	10%	95%
Interdictor-class Heavy Cruiser	70%	100%
Vodal-class Strike Frigate	50%	85%
Vodal-class Strike Frigate	70%	90%
Sondheimer IV-class, Heavy Interdictor	100%	100%
WOLFPACK RED
Bolt x 4	70%	100%
Kelly x 8	70%	100%
STARFIGHTERS	REMAINING	TOTAL
Sion-class Heavy Starfighter [6 squads of 12]	67	72
Ragnos-class Interceptor [6 squads of 12]	65	72
Caldoth-class Bombers [6 squads of 12]	68	72

THE INVICTUS DIVISION

VESSEL	SHIELDS	HULL
The Invictus	100%	100%
Interdictor-class Heavy Cruiser	100%	100%
Interdictor-class Heavy Cruiser	100%	100%
Interdictor-class Heavy Cruiser	100%	100%
Vodal-class Strike Frigate	100%	100%
Vodal-class Strike Frigate	100%	100%
Vodal-class Strike Frigate	100%	100%
Vodal-class Strike Frigate	100%	100%
Vodal-class Strike Frigate	100%	100%
STARFIGHTERS	REMAINING	TOTAL
Sion-class Heavy Starfighter [7 squads of 12]	84	84
Ragnos-class Interceptor [7 squads of 12]	84	84
Caldoth-class Bombers [7 squads of 12]	84	84

RESERVE - THE SPIRE GUARD

VESSEL	SHIELDS	HULL
The Malefic	100%	100%
Interdictor-class Heavy Cruiser	100%	100%
Vodal-class Strike Frigate	100%	100%
Vodal-class Strike Frigate	100%	100%
Sondheimer IV-class, Heavy Interdictor	100%	100%
WOLFPACK GOLD
Bolt x 4	100%	100%
Kelly x 8	100%	100%
STARFIGHTERS	REMAINING	TOTAL
Sion-class Heavy Starfighter [4 squads of 12]	48	48
Ragnos-class Interceptor [4 squads of 12]	48	48
Caldoth-class Bombers [3 squads of 12]	36	36

Spoiler: FLEET ACTIONS

• A majority of Horuset Armada's fighters clash with the incoming TIE fighters, while some remain behind with the larger ships
• Countermeasures: Missile Deactivation Transmitters on The Omen, the interdictors, and their escorts. Heavy cruisers launch antimissile octets. Anti-starfighter cluster bombs
• Wolfpack Red tighten around the Sondheimer and engage pursuing enemy ships, projecting anti-ordnance fields that detonate incoming munitions prematurely.
• The Omen diverts max power to forward shields but still takes heavy damage from the Pseudosonic Beam Cannon, Ultra-beam cannons and megamaser batteries.
• A Heavy Cruiser intercepts the sustained beam, taking the heat off The Omen long enough for it to retreat deeper into the formation.
• Elmindra deepens her Battle Meditation within her meditation sphere.
• The Omen is further shrouded in Jen'Quazoi, some of which drift out into the battlefield and smother the cloud of incoming TIE fighters.
• The Invictus Division pursues Marlon Sularen 's capitol ship, firing on it with Mass Driver Cannons.
• The Omen begins charging its Axial Cannon.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

ALLIED TAGS: Hasuras Na-Gerra , Elmindra Xitaar , Amelia von Sorenn , Seela Leini , Quinn Varanin , Onrai , @CT
ENEMY TAGS: Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , Ronhar Tane Karl Von Strauss , Calin Rakel , Marlon Sularen

Spoiler

Kesmas-Class: Terrorizer (24 Fi-3 "Tomb" Class Starfighters)
Kesmas-Class: Lash (24 Fi-3 "Tomb" Class Starfighters)
Kesmas-Class: Damnation (Flagship) (23 Fi-3 "Tomb" Class Starfighters, 1 Insidious-Class Infiltrator)
11 Orthanc-Class Boarding Frigates

"Lord, an enemy strike force has broken away from the main force! They have bypassed our picket line!"
​

The power of the Phobis Core was wondrous indeed, and Darth Nefaron drank from it greedily as it sent out its terrible will to confound the enemy fleet. Still, the valor and bravery of the Imperials were to be commended, refusing to retreat from the power of the Sith's flagship. The Terror Lord turned to the display screen to see the incoming force, a collection of corvettes and speedy TIE fighters that seemed to be diverging on both sides of Nefaron's modest fleet. It seemed that the Phobis Core's power had little effect on the starfighters, but quickly the Dark Lord was able to ascertain that these were but mere droids, as expendable as the slaves that piloted Nefaron's cruisers. Still, there was little time to react to an attack from both sides, and so the Corpse Lord made his decision.

"Quite a clever trick they play. Have our fighters intercept the forces approaching the Lash, keep it safe. I will have need of it before this battle is done."

"What of the Terrorizer?"

"Why, have it turn about and engage. Unleash its concussion missiles; we do need it to put up a good fight."

"But Lord, it will not be able to intercept all the enemy craft properly. It would be vulnerable!"

"Will it survive?"

"Yes, Lord, but it will sustain damage-"

"Then do as I command. I have my own game to play."

The slave-drive bowed his head and carried out his master's wishes. Sith fighters already began to move into defensive formations to protect the Lash and Damnation while the Terrorizer turned to face the oncoming Imperial storm. The remaining frigates are not idle, as they move to defend Nefaron's command ship with their powerful point-defense weaponry. To an outsider, it appears as though Nefaron is fully prepared to cowardly defend his command ship and sacrifice an entire capital ship for the sake of his own safety. Yet the Corpse Lord had a more dastardly plan in mind; all that was required now was for the Tormentor to survive the initial assault well enough for the second phase of Nefaron's plan.

 

[Calin Rakel]

"Hyperspace readings, sir," a Junior officer yelled out from across the bridge, "Something very large is exiting hyperspace near the Sith fleet." Calin looked out the viewport as behind the Sith fleet, a monster emerged, ripping its way back into the void of space. The shape of an enormous wing, the Sith Super Star Destroyer hung behind the primary battle, its presence lingering throughout the greater strategic area.

By the Empire, he thought, what could they do against that?

"Sir! The Omen is retreating! Sensors show its shield has been heavily drained. We may have a chance to break through!"

"Negative," Calin said, his voice raised to cut through the officers' excited emotions. "It's repositioning, it's not nearly ready to capitulate. Keep targeting it with the beams, let's reorient the megamasers and missiles on its escorts while it's hiding behind its sister ships."

Calin watched the tactical display on his war table, watching lances of energy erupting from his ship and cutting into The Omen and its escorting capital ships. Turbolasers, megamasers, missiles, beams of energy and a multitude of other munitions flaring the shields of the Sith ships. As Calin watched the tactical display, he also noticed the Sith fighters dancing to a tune they all seemed to follow. They wove through space in perfect unison, shooting down TIEs with almost too much ease. Not long after, a wave of sickness rolled through him, causing him to lay a hand on the war table to steady himself.

He glanced around, noticing the same weariness hit his men. A few fainted as medics ran to tend to them. Calin gritted his teeth as waves of fear and despair powered through him. His own psyche spoke to him, "Give up," it told him, "Quit. Let go. It's easier this way."

Forced labor. That's what the Galactic Alliance had made him do. Years and years of back-breaking work on penal colonies for his transgressions. His mental fortitude, the only thing he still had control of, the only thing that keeping him going as he broke rock with an iron pick. He recalled those memories, keeping them at the front of his mind as he fought off whatever new Sith sorcery this was.

Calin opened a fleet-wide communique to his forces, "This is Admiral Calin Rakel to the 7th." he took a breath as he continued, "The Sith use their trickery to make you doubt. I know you feel it, deep in your mind. They're telling you to give up, to give in, to roll over and die. Look to the left and right of you, those men and women who man the stations around you, who are, even now, engaging the Sith in head-on combat, are who you will let down if you give up. Look into their eyes, you'll be the ones telling their families that you let them die. Because your mind was weak, because your will wasn't strong enough."

"Can you live with that? Because I can't. I refuse to let these cowards play tricks with me any longer. I refuse to be the reason any of us die because my mind was toyed with by someone who's hiding behind a cloak and a fancy laser sword. Look at them sitting out there, using mind tricks to toy with you. They are twisting your own mind against you. If that doesn't light a fire in your belly, the fact that someone can toy with you against your will, then I don't know what will. But if it does, if it sickens you that someone is churning your mind against your will, then let it fuel you. Take those emotions and make a wall against these forces. Get angry. Get focused. FIGHT! And burn these kriffing cowards out from the metal they hide behind."

Calin addressed the officers next to him, "Link in with the fleet's advanced AI systems. Let's use our systems and integrate with the TIEs out there. The Sith are dancing to a tune because of this Sorcery, working in concert with each other. Let's use our advanced systems to negate that advantage."

"Aye aye, sir!" an officer yelled, coordinating with fleet elements from Marlon Sularen , Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , Karl Von Strauss and Ronhar Tane to better coordinate TIE fighters and starfighters.

Calin watched out the viewport as his Pursuit-class Cruisers laser point defense worked in overdrive, destroying missiles and incoming star-fighters. Chaff and flares erupted all around them, diverting incoming missiles that otherwise would have detonated on the ships. Electronic Countermeasures erupted from the 7th Fleet, bathing the battle sphere with noise to interrupt enemy communications and missile patterns, jamming Sith fighters' targeting displays, and giving his TIEs an even playing field.

"Force storms, sir," he heard from across the war table. Colonel Alex Jalleryn spoke up for the first time, "They're happening again. Force storms and micro-unstable wormholes. When that Sith heavy jumped in, the space around us responded. Something from that ship is messing with the space-time continuum."

"Agreed," Calin said, "We have to punch through their fleet before we can target it. It affects them as much as it affects us, though; they're just trying to scare us. If they want to those Force Storms and wormholes to greater advantage, they'll have to put their own ships in harms way."

Calin turned toward his communications officer before speaking. "Relay my orders: Drop the 7th down below the plane of battle, begin to reorient the fleet below the Sith. Make them turn to us. I want all ships angled toward the Sith still as we drop. Continue missile barrage, pick your targets, and open fire. We outnumber their fighters 2 to 1, overwhelm them, and then push onto the capital ships."

"Aye, sir!"

Calin watched as the engines roared on Unto The Breach as they began to dip below the Sith fleet, the front of their ships still angled toward the Sith. The Sith would have to respond, or their bellies would be open.

"Rakel to TIC forces, we're dropping below the plane of engagement and going beneath the Sith forces. If they adjust to us, it may give you an opportunity to engage them in less well-defended arcs."

Spoiler: Fleet Comp

7th Fleet	SHIELDS	HULL
Unto The Breach	95	100
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 1	20	85
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 2	33	95
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 3	87	100
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 4	95	100
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 5	15	100
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 6	76	100
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 7	100	100
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 8	80	100
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 9	0	97
Pursuit-Class Light Cruiser 10	100	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 1	100	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 2	88	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 3	82	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 4	63	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 5	57	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 6	100	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 7	100	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 8	100	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 9	100	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 10	98	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 11	93	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 12	87	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 13	89	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 14	100	100
Loki-Class Fast Corvette 15	100	100

7TH FLEET STARFIGHTERS	REMAINING	TOTAL
TIE/DA [10 SQUADS OF 8]	70	80
TIE/ss [40 SQUADS OF 16]	600	640
TIE/sb [10 SQUADS OF 12]	120	120

7TH FLEET STARFIGHTERS (SUPPORT)	REMAINING	TOTAL
STORK Heavy Dropship [5 SQUADS OF 4]	20	20
HAAT/i Gunship [5 SQUADS OF 16]	80	80

Spoiler: Actions

• Fighting through Sith battle meditation, attempting to give an inspiring speech to the troops.
• Engaging The Omen's escorts as it falls back behind them
• Using advanced AI networks from TIC forces and integrating strategies to TIC TIE fighters to negate the battle meditation and even the playing field. Using overwhelming numbers advantage to push the Sith fighters back.
• Staying clear of Force Storms for the moment.
• Launching chaff against Sith missiles.
• Electronic Countermeasures flooding Sith fleet to disrupt missiles, radar, targeting sensors etc.
• Fleet dipping beneath the plane of engagement to target the Sith fleet from below.

ALLIES: Ronhar Tane Marlon Sularen Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory Karl Von Strauss
DIRECT FOES: Elmindra Xitaar
LOCAL: Amelia von Sorenn Quinn Varanin Darth Nefaron Seela Leini

 

[Wilhelm Vonreg]

T H E_S E C O N D_C O M I N G
Objective III : Raise the Flag

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
FLORRUM, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

As the Imperial TIEs approached the Sith Fleet with the Vonregs at their lead, the Sith quickly sent out their own fighters to intercept them with vast squadrons of Sith Fighters, Interceptors and Bombers rushing to meet their Imperial counterparts. As his sensor display lit up to notify him of the new arrivals, Vonreg smirked eager to carve a bloody path towards the Omen which had already begun to retreat deeper into the Sith formation after sustaining heavy fire from the Supreme Commander's Flagship.

"Titan Two, divert power to shields and engage." Vonreg ordered, shunting the power to his shields only seconds before the Imperial TIE fighter swarm made contact with their Sith counterparts with the elder Vonreg quickly taking out a Sith Starfighter in quick exchange of fire while the younger Vonreg took out another Starfighter. With his daughter at his side, Vonreg continued to carve a bloody bath through the ranks of Sith fighters even as they tried to bait the both of them into kill pockets. Within minutes Vonreg had claimed a dozen Sith Starfighters and Interceptors while his daughter was trailing behind at half his number.

Even if the Sith were guided by Battle Meditation it still wouldn't be enough to overcome the sheer numbers and skills of the Imperial Pilots not to mention the superior quality of the Imperial TIEs that enabled the Pilots to straight up undermine their the Sith counterparts attempts to draw them into kill pockets. However something changed as the Imperial TIEs pressed their attack pushing further against the Sith lines. First it started with a couple of TIEs just vanishing from his display feed at an abnormal rate, which Vonreg at first attributed to casualties at the hands of the Sith.

However things changed when Vonreg watched a pair of TIEs that were chasing a single Sith Starfighter crash into each other up ahead while another squadron further up ahead dissolved into chaos, crashing into each other, splitting off or attacking one another. "What the heck is going on." Vonreg said to himself as he wondered what the hell was going on. "DAD WATCH OUT." his the younger Vonreg suddenly shouted from the comms. For a couple of seconds Vonreg saw a patch of black mist right in front of his TIE which appeared to have some sort of humanoid shape. However he swerved around it before they could collide leaving the black mist to pursue other TIEs.

"It's Titan Leader, Titan Two." the elder Vonreg said, remining his daughter to use their callsigns since they were fighting a battle. "But what the hell was that?" he further asked. "First of all your welcome." the younger Vonreg replied sarcastically before she continued. "Second of all, I don't know but it's everywhere on the battlefield. It's effecting some of our Pilots." the elder Vonreg then saw another flight of TIEs get covered by that Black mist before they dissolved into Chaos. "Must be Another Sith trick, just like those storms" the elder Vonreg muttered out. "Well it seems that mist is also being used to cover their flagship so we'd have to deal with that too" the younger Vonreg further pointed out, as the Omen appeared to be covered in a shroud of black mist.

"Doesn't matter how much Sith tricks they use to shield themselves" the elder Vonreg retorted. "In the end they will all fail." he added before shunting the power to the engines and rapidly accelerating as he charged towards the Sith flagship. "Squadrons on me. We're going for their flagship." the elder Vonreg ordered. "Keep an eye out for that black mist and don't lose your focus." he added. With his daughter at his side Vonreg continued to close in on the Sith Flagship with many TIEs and joining him in, evading incoming swarms of black mist as their TIEs closed the gap with the Sith flagship.

"Squadrons, target that Axial cannon." the elder Vonreg ordered as he and his daughter descended upon the Omen followed by the dozens of TIEs with them as they unleashed a volley of powerful missiles towards the bow of the Omen, aiming for the massive axial superlaser that was charging up. "Coming down for another pass." the elder Vonreg said as he circled around and went for another attack on the Omen's bow, getting real close to the swam of dark mist and unleashing hell upon with everything he had, plasma cannons, laser cannons and missiles. With the younger Vonreg and another pair of TIEs covering him Vonreg from above against any attacks from the black mist.

Time was running out and Vonreg needed to take out that axial superlaser quickly before it could fire on any of the Imperial Flagships in retaliation. Fortunately with portions of the Imperial Fleet closing in on and the overwhelming amount of TIEs at his disposal, he would be able to throw the Omen out of commission. Until then, the Vonregs and their supporting TIE Squadrons would launch repeated attacks against the bow of the Omen determined to break their shields and destroy that axial superlaser in order to give the Imperials the upper hand in this engagement.

Tags [Friendlies] | Karl Von Strauss | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel
Tags [Hostiles] | Seela Leini | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Darth Nefaron | Amelia von Sorenn | Elmindra Xitaar | Quinn Varanin ​

 

[Ronhar Tane]

FLEET ADMIRAL VORIN ZONILL
OBJECTIVE III: RAISE THE FLAG!
FLORRUM HYPERGATE

"Ugh...status report, Captain?", Zonill blurted out, as waves of nausea continued to crash over him. Though he didn't know it, the Sith Fleet had continued to attack his men through the Force, as their Battle Meditation went into full effect. Unlike the first attack, which had came onto Zonill's men with no warning, this new attack was far more subtle, slowly grinding down spirits and removing the will to fight from the men stationed aboard the Collateral Star. The Fleet Admiral had tried doing everything that he could think of to get this feeling to stop: he had ordered additional HNDA-Mk III/T's to be placed all around the bridge, requested additional rations of water and Caf to be distributed amongst the crew and had even ordered his technicians to play uplifting Imperial music all throughout the ship. Though none of it had worked, Zonill felt like his efforts were having a small effect, and in a battle like this, he would take what small victories he could get when he got them.

Still, as far as he was concerned, the naval engagement was going relatively well. The Sith Fleet, perhaps over reliant on their force based attacks, had yet to commit their forces to the engagement, choosing to stay where they were and accept the long range ion cannon fire that Zonill was continuing to throw at them. He had at least been sure that the Sith would have moved the vessels of Amelia von Sorenn into the center of the battlefield, since the Sith had essentially acquired them for free, as cover for their more important vessels. But so far, nothing: the old Alliance fleet continued to maintain radio silence, even as Zonill's Strike Bombers continued to engage them. No matter. If they wanted to die in silence, Zonill was more than content to let them do so.

Still, this presented Zonill with an opportunity: if he could wear down the Sith forces with long range fire, he might be able to punch a hole in their formation that the Imperial forces could then exploit. He didn't need to defeat ALL the Sith assets on the field, just enough of them to create a corridor for Imperial vessels to travel through. An Ackbar Slash, perhaps? That was a favored strategy of Zonill, but right now a bit to preemptive to perform. So be it.

"Sir", Sellferr coughed as he struggled to keep his lunch down, "The Sith Fleet has launched additional fighters to combat our own. The Alliance Fleet refuses to respond to our hails, and a number of enemy frigates have begun to move forward, presumably in attempts to screen our fighters. Besides that, we haven't detected any changes from the Sith's positions."

"So that's how it is then. A game of Loth-cat and mouse. So be it. Recall all our fighters engaging Amelia von Sorenn 's ships and have them instead target the vessels of Elmindra Xitaar . I want all additional fighters launched toward their location. Have the SPHA-T Corvettes engage the frigates of Darth Nefaron : I want maximum pressure applied to Xitaar. The more fighters we can send at them, the better our chances that we can force Xitaar's ships to break formation."

"Understood, sir. What about the Gravity Well Projectors?"

"Keep them in reserve. Though I doubt that the Sith will take an opportunity to escape, allowing them a corridor of their own to flee through might prove beneficial to us in the long run."

With orders given, the remaining AX-Wings, FAE/TIE Series "Pixie" Ultralight Interceptors, Eightgun-class Assault Fighters, TIE/ews and NCE-100a "Hunds" joined the fighters engaging Elmindra Xitaar . When Zonill said he intended to exert maximum pressure, he meant it, as the Collateral Star began taking popshot's at Xitaar's fleet, firing its turbolasers, ion cannons and NZ HKAC/800 Cannons from range. The Gundark and the Disruptor-class Ion Cannon Carriers continued blazing away with their V-150 Planet Defenders as the SPHA-T Corvettes fired their Proton Beam Cannons at the frigates of Darth Nefaron . Though Zonill would have preferred they fired at disabled ships, destroying those frigates would mean that more of his fighters and bombers were able to get though to Xitaar. Unfortunately, the Force Storms and Wormholes popping up throughout the battlefield was starting to make things difficult: the small craft were able to avoid them entirely but the larger weapons and ships of Zonill's fleet were having trouble aiming around them, making hitting their targets from range far more difficult now than it had been mere minutes ago.

As Zonill's fleet continued to press its attack, the Pathfinder found that its prey had escaped it, fleeing into a wormhole that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. With the speed at which Captain Hokkley's ship was traveling, there was no way he could adjust to try and prevent Seela Leini from disappearing.

"Blast! Reroute power to AIMS! We need to turn around!"

That, of course was easier said than done, since the Pathfinder had the turning radius of a drunken Bantha. Still, before Hokkley could even thing about brining his vessel to starboard, warning lights began flashing all throughout his ship as sirens began to blare. They were being targeted by a pair of hyper-ionized particle bolts! Fortunately, with the distance between Seela Leini and the speed at which Hokkley's ship could move, avoiding them was a fairly straightforward maneuver.

"Belay that order! Full speed ahead, starboard turn to 15 degrees!"

The Pathfinder continued speeding forward as it ever so slightly began tilting to its left. Though the amount of turn that Hokkley had ordered was relatively inconsequential, over the distance which his ship moved the amount of turn started to add up, and after a few moments, the Pathfinder had completely deviated from its original course, the hyper-ionized particle bolts streaking by harmlessly as they completely missed Hokkley's ship.

Still, though Hokkley had avoided being heavily damaged, he had yet to reorient him and his ship toward Seela Leini . With considerable effort, he managed to slow the Pathfinder down to a speed where he could activate AIMS, the ship groaning in protest as it made a hard left turn toward the direction of the fire that had come its way. In a matter of minutes, Hokkley was back on track and once again speeding toward Seela Leini , blasting its electronic warfare systems at any enemy ships that got anywhere near its location...

TAGS:
Karl Von Strauss
Marlon Sularen
Calin Rakel
Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory
Amelia von Sorenn
Elmindra Xitaar
Seela Leini​

---

---

---

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

• MIN Collateral Star (Post-Brosi Refit)-4,960 meters
  • 15 Squadrons of TIE Vultures
  • 10 Squadrons of AX-Wings
  • 10 Squadrons of FAE/TIE Series "Pixie" Ultralight Interceptor Block 4
  • 10 Squadrons of NZ TIE/sb Strike Bombers
  • 5 Squadrons of Hyper-Jammers
• MIN Gundark-650 meters
  • 1 Squadron of Eightgun-class Assault Fighters
  • 1 Squadron of Hyper-Jammers
• 3 Disruptor-class Ion Cannon Carriers:-1,950 meters
  • 3 Squadrons of Eightgun-class Assault Fighters
  • 3 Squadrons of TIE/ews
• 4 Impressor-class Acclamators-3,068 meters
  • 4 Squadrons of NCE-100a "Hunds"
  • 4 Squadrons of NZ TIE/sb Strike Bombers
• MIN Fool's Errand-388 meters
  • 3 Squadrons of AX-Wings
  • 1 Squadron of TIE/ews
• 6 SPHA-T Corvettes-990 meters
• 1 CR90-EE Corvette-185 meters

Starfighter Counts:

• TIE Vultures-260
• AX-Wings-120
• FAE/TIE Series "Pixie" Ultralight Interceptor Block 4-118
• NZ TIE/sb Strike Bombers-129
• Hyper-Jammers-14
• Eightgun-class Assault Fighters-48
• TIE/ews-12
• NCE-100a "Hunds"-32

Spoiler: Summary

• Zonill tries to mitigate the effects of Battle Meditation on his men
• Zonill recalls the fighters attacking Amelia von Sorenn and redirects them to Elmindra Xitaar
• Zonill launches all his remaining fighters at Xitaar as the Collateral Star begins taking potshots at Xitaar's Fleet
• Zonill continues firing his long range ion cannons at Xitaar
• Zonill has his SPHA-T Corvettes fire at Darth Nefaron 's frigate screen
• The Pathfinder avoids Seela Leini 's attack and turns around to continue its pursuit of her ship

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

Where I have passed, grass will never grow again.

The battlefield between the two forces is awash with a Storm in the Force. Wormholes open and close erratically, capable of consuming ships entire. Lightning flashes, criss-crossing the billowing storm in crimson threads, each tendril enough to fry capital grade electronics and leech away shields.

But the Vahlans are unperturbed.

The Horde have suffered some damage, but the battle is yet unjoined. As yet the imperials are content to drive at them from afar, but to win the day the imperials must needs take the gate. Time is not their ally. The longer they dawdled, the longer the truth that they were a long range strike force in enemy territory would come to bear. Well did Gerra know of such logistics.

The Queen of the Echani has given the Vahlans a great gift. A battlefield which the Force alone can safely navigate.

Now is the chance to drive home the advantage.

The guns of the Vahlans return fire, turbolasers and proton torpedoes streaking through the space between ships. The Sabaoth star fighters pour out in flocks. And just as the weapons are targeted by Vahlan seers with the gift of foresight, so too are these starfighters piloted by pirates gifted in the Dark Side of the Force. None of them quite as strong or as trained as a Jedi, but there are very few Vahlans in the galaxy not gifted with the power of the Force. It is the boon of their people.

The Hapan Battle Groups remain in defensive positions, but the Vahlan Horde presses forward as one. Armed freighters and Sabaoth destroyers and Marauder corvettes churn at full burn into the miasma of the Force Storm, fearless and helmed by Vahlan seers.

They burn for one target and one alone: the Sularen's Revenge.

Using the Force Storm as cover to conceal their advance and avoid withering fire from the imperials, their charge is reckless and wild as the fire of their own goddess.

And at the forefront is Gerra himself. He projects an aura of unease that permeates the space all around his advancing forces. Those TIE fighters and corvettes who dare them might find nerves of steel turned to liquid, stomachs churning with nausea, and the strength of their morale frail as paper.

The distance between the two lines dwindles.

"Nefaron, Xitaar, I go to board our enemy. We shall see how proud they are when we have their leader in hand."

[TSO]: Elmindra Xitaar | Quinn Varanin | Darth Nefaron | Ufsa'zekhn'narun | Amelia von Sorenn | Seela Leini
[TIC]: Marlon Sularen | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel | Karl Von Strauss | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Onrai

​

 

[Marlon Sularen]

S E C O N D_C O M I N G
Objective III : Raise the Flag

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
FLORRUM, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

Spoiler: Wraith Squadron

WRAITH SQUADRON
Main Fleet : INV Sularen's Revenge [Flagship] INV Tyrant's Fist INV Nightmare INV Harbinger INV Cataclysm INV Shadowblade INV Voidlock
Starfighter Compliment : TIE Vultures TIE/ME Meteors TIE/sb Strike Bombers TIE/ss Supremacies TIE/Stu Stürmers GAT-50 Imperial Blastboats TIE/DA Defenders TIE/dv Devastators TIE/DT Destroyer Mk. IIs

Sularen observed as the powerful concentrated Sonic Beam struck the Sith Battlecruiser forcing it to retreat behind it's escorts while diverting their forces to launch a counter-attack against Sularen's own fleet in an attempt to avoid another deadly strike. For now that Sith Flagship was safe from wrath of the Imperial Fleet but the same could not be said about the Sith naval squadron sent to attack Wraith Squadron as the lead ship of the Sith squadron targeted the Sularen's Revenge with it's mass driver cannons, dealing some damage to the shields. Fortunately for Sularen, Admirals Rakel and Zonill were already engaged with the Sith battlegroup meaning that the squadron pursuing him wouldn't be a problem that he should be worried about.

"Admiral Zonill." Sularen began as spoke the rest of the fleet commanders. "I got a naval squadron targeting my fleet, centered around an enemy destroyed designated Invictus. I need you to intercept them and take those ships out of commission." he instructed. "As for the rest of you, keep pressing your attacks on your respective targets. Exarch, don't overextend your forces by pursuing those Galactic Alliance ships. Maintain your distance with long-range fire, stick to our formation and divert your fighters to assist us in dealing with the main Sith Fleet." he added. "Make sure to keep an eye out for those wormholes, we don't want any unexpected surprises breaking our advance."

As the other fleet commanders would proceed to execute the Supreme Commanders orders, he soon noticed that the third Sith fleet had begun to advance against his forces with cruisers, corvettes and armed freighters throwing everything they had against the mighty warships of Sularen's Imperial Fleet dealing more damage to the shields of each warship. But Wraith Squadron held it's ground as the Sularen's Revenge and it's escorts returned fire unleashing heavy volleys of turbolaser fire and missiles towards the Sith Fleet focusing on the heavier Sabaoth Destroyers in that fleet.

"Recall the TIE Vultures from their current engagement against the other Sith fleet and redirect them against this fleet." the Supreme Commander further ordered. While it would weaken Baron Vonreg's main attack against the Sith Battlecruiser it would enable him to more effectively challenge the second Sith fleet charging towards him, especially in dealing with those Armed freighters and corvettes attacking his ships. "Deploy all reserve TIE Vultures and have them join the already deployed Vultures in attacking that Sith Fleet." he added further.

Soon enough the freighters and corvettes of the Blazing Chain's would find themselves under heavy attack as hundreds of TIE Vultures descended on them unleashing attack runs against the smaller more vulnerable ships of their fleet. Furthermore, it would be impossible for the Sith to disrupt the attacks of these specific TIEs as their droid brains would remain unaffected from the overall Sith battle meditation all while operating in a synchronized and precise manner that rivaled how the Sith guided their starfighter squadrons with battle meditation.

"Begin charging up the Pseudosonic Beam Cannons." the Supreme Commander ordered. It was time to show these Sith who truely held mastery over the deep black void of space.

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• The INV Sularen's Revenge and the rest of Wraith Squadron take moderate damage from the attacking Invictus Division an Vahlan Horde.
• Admiral Zonill is instructed to attack the Invictus Division from Xitaar's Fleet that is currently pursuing his Fleet.
• Governor Visconti and Admiral Rakel are told to press their attacks against their respective targets (Nefaron and Xitaar)
• Exarch von Strauss is told to hold his ships back from attacking von Sorenn's GA Fleet and redirect his fighters to assist in the attack against Xitaar's main fleet
• All seven ships in Wraith Squadron return fire upon the incoming Vahlan Horde with all their primary weapons focusing on the Sabaoth Destroyers
• All active and reserve TIE Vultures (~300-400 total) are redirected to attack the armed freighters and corvettes of the Vahlan Horde.

Tags [TIC] | Karl Von Strauss | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel |
Tags [SO] | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Darth Nefaron | Amelia von Sorenn | Elmindra Xitaar | Seela Leini | Quinn Varanin ​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mors Mon//
//: Behind Sith Fleet //:
ENEMIES //: Karl Von Strauss //: Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory //: Ronhar Tane //: Calin Rakel //: Marlon Sularen
ALLIES //: Hasuras Na-Gerra //: Darth Nefaron //: Amelia von Sorenn //: Elmindra Xitaar //: Seela Leini //:

Power surged through her, and Quinn understood at last why the Mors Mon carried its reputation. Typhojem lingered close, a presence skimming the edges of her mind. She opened herself fully to the battlefield, and the storm answered. Every presence bled into it: hopes, fear, desperation.

The galaxy unraveled before her into a lattice of force and intent, a vast instrument waiting for her hands.

It was intoxicating.

She felt the raven on her shoulder. Her Master was watching. The knowledge sharpened something inside her. She wanted to be seen. To be acknowledged. Revered.

This was her moment to claim what her mother wielded so effortlessly.

Along the Blackwall, the Force Storm expanded, its mass swelling outward. Clouds churned and split as colossal bolts of crimson lightning lashed through space, cleaving into the fleet that dared approach the Empire's edge. Judgement fell without warning or mercy.

Even without the storm, the Blackwall asserted itself.

Hyperspace routes destabilized and collapsed as thousands of storm seeds activated in concert. Their fields overlapped, compressing space itself, forcing surrounding sectors into a brutal lock. Distance ceased to matter. Retreat became impossible.

The Blackwall was not a wall — it was a testament.

Empyrean had built it to protect the Empire. Anything that tried to cross would be dragged screaming from transit or erased outright.

Quinn's jaw tightened at the thought of him. Of her defiance. Of her need to be more than an afterthought.

She was not his blood, but she wanted him to look at her and see an Heir.
If she could not be, she would be his proof.

The Blackwall would be her shield.
The Mors Mon, her spear.

Through the storm, the minds of the Sith Order aligned with hers. Battle meditation flowed outward, steady and absolute. Wormholes twisted into guided paths — traps masquerading as safety. Ships that entered them vanished as spacetime collapsed inward, pressure annihilating metal and life into oblivion.

Nothing escaped the storm's will.

Onrai

On the outskirts near the hypergate, a single ship lingered — hiding, hoping. The storm seeds shifted. Space warped. The storm reached for it, and lightning — dense with Force-fed power — struck again and again, seeking to tear the vessel in half.

Everything would bend.

Or be broken.

 

[CT-312]

//: Allies: Drystan Creed Darth Hydra Quinn Varanin | TSO //:
//: Enemies: TIC /:
//: Florrum Hypergate //:
//: Attire //:
//: EQUIPMENT: Halcyon Armour| M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack| M.I. 'Halo' jump boots | Contact Lenses | Wrist Mounted APG | Ancile Shield | Navi/Barca //:
//: PRIMARY WEAPONS: VW 864 Maser Rifle | LO-18D | FAE/W-12 Assault Carbine Mk. II //:
//: Secondary Weapons: LO-22S | FAE/W-17 Electromagnetic Plasma Hand Cannon | FAE/M-06 Eight Blade Razorline Projector| FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II //:
//: 28|40 Active Mag : 2 Backup Mags x LO-KI/22 Standard Slug Round //:
//: ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: Kushute Grenades | Shiva Knifes | S.A.N.D. Powder //:
//: Ion Grenades | Flash Grenades | Incendiary Grenades | Smoke Grenades //:
//: 1 x Arrow head of Absence | LK Spider Slicer Droid | FAE/C-03 BioMedical Support System//:
//: OBJ 3 - RAISE THE FLAG! //:​

Open space swallowed CT-312.

One moment she was standing within the hangar’s containment field, the next she was gone. Drystan’s hand locked around her forearm and in an instant hurled the Scout forward with an unseen force. Space rushed up to meet her in a soundless roar as the Mors Mon fell away behind. Its immense shadow receding in an instant.

For a heartbeat, there was only the vastness. Stars scattered like shrapnel and fleets suspended across impossible distances. Lightning streaked through, pulsing in the dark clouds between the Sith and Imperials. The space between was thick and unstable. BARCA triggered the Halycon’s thrusters. Blue-white bursts flared from her armor as CT-312 corrected her trajectory, angling herself cleanly through the Sith fleet. Slipping through the tightening gap and into the empty stretch of space separating the two armadas.

No man’s land, as CT-312 understood it.

The distance was deceptive. Vast, yet closing fast. Movement caught the Scout’s eye. A lone Sith starfighter already engaged. The Nemesis fighter outpaced and outmaneuvered what seems to be about ten droid fighters, cutting through them in tight arcs. A massive Imperial corvette lumbering behind, doing its best to keep up. Then the rest of the battlefield ignited.

Imperial formations surged forward, breaking their static lines. Pushing into the gap, heading straight into the distorted battlespace. Sith vessels answered. Turbolasers lanced across space. Volleys of fire between the two began to exchange. Ragged tears of compressed light and shadow ripped open without warning. Some were small, collapsing as quickly as they appeared. Others stretched wider, dragging debris and shattering smaller imperial fighters into their depths before snapping shut again.

CT-312 adjusted instinctively. Whatever the Princess was doing aboard the Mors Mon surged through the connection they shared. Clarity flooded into her mind and the battlefield resolved itself into patterns. Not certainty, but anticipation. The Scout felt where space would rupture with lightning next and where the distortions would tear open moments before they did. CT-312 guided herself to the Star Destroyer she had marked earlier.

It still loomed at the edge of the Imperial Confederation's formation. Despite the other Imperial’s advance, attempting to force their way in through the contested zone. It held its line.

The Halcyon’s armor faded into the backdrop of the stars as CT-312 activated her cloaking on her armor. Her profile collapsed into near nothingness. If she were detected at all, it would read as insignificant. Some kind of lost debris, a drifting fragment.

BARCA pinged. Translucent overlays spread across her HUD. Targeting data aligning and syncing as her visor zoomed in. The Imperial warship’s control bridge. The transparisteel viewport gleaming faintly among the armored hull. CT-312 closed the distance at an alarming speed. Raising her LO-18D rifle, she braced against the recoil that was about to come.

Click. Pointer finger swapping rounds, before resting it on the trigger.

Her finger tightened. The first controlled burst struck the bridge viewport. Inside, confusion rippled. A brief hesitation as the crew thought it was nothing more than some small piece of debris that had impacted the glass. A breath later, the next rounds hit. Slug rounds slammed into the transparisteel. Spiderweb cracks raced outward across the surface, the alarms began to stutter… they were too late.

The final burst shredded through. Fragments exploded outward, the viewport shattering violently as the bridge depressurized in an instant. Crews, data pads, and loose debris were ripped free, flung into space. Emergency systems screamed to life as red warnings flashed across the dying command deck.

CT-312’s rifle bucked with each shot. The force of the recoil reduced her forward momentum. BARCA compensated instantly. Automatically adjusting thruster output to keep her stable as the last rounds left the barrel. Within moments, she drifted through the breach. Glass shards and lifeless imperial bodies floated around her. Silent and weightless. She landed lightly against the ruined deck plating, mag boots activated. Thunk. Thunk. “Alarms.” CT-312 said calmly. A slicer droid scuttled from her pouch and onto the control console, slipping into the cracks.

Moments later, the wailing alerts died mid-cycle. Across the bridge and throughout the ship, silence fell. [SYSTEM STABLIZED]. [DISPLAY RESET]. BARCA injected its own presence into the ship’s networks. An automated announcement echoed through the Star Destroyer's corridors. “This is a scheduled alarm test.” Perfectly mundane. “Please resume assigned duties.” CT-312 turned as the ship’s engines flared. On her HUD, BARCA relayed confirmation after confirmation.

[ BARCA ]
[ SHIP’S CONTROL…… ACTIVE ]
[ ENGINES / THRUSTERS… ACTIVE ]
[ COURSE CORRECTION… IN PROGRESS ]

The Imperial vessel began to move. Its accompanying ships followed. Peeling away from the main body of the Imperial fleet and sliding into no mans land in a clean V-formation. They were close enough to remain part of the advancing armada, but far enough to avoid the thickest fighting now erupting. Radio chatter began to flood as some of the ships were struck by lightning or swallowed by distortions opening without warning.

CT-312 tapped at the holo-keyboard on her vambrace. Encrypting the message before sending it out.

[ DRYSTAN | DARTH HYDRA ]
[ Ride's here. ]

 

[Darth Hydra]

Hydra had no time for anymore levity. It was time for them to complete the next steps in their plan. Hydra made his way to the drop ships briskly with the practiced ease of an athlete. Time was of the essence, as it was, he supposed with most battle scenarios. Speed often carried the day during a tactical operation or, so he was led to believe. So long as that speed was delivered with efficient precision. It was much like lightsaber combat, the wrong move at precisely the wrong time would cause loss of life or at the very least loss of limb. For a battle to succeed, all the moving parts of the body that was a fleet needed to work together with coordination. Success depended on cohesion between all the units, and all the individuals of the unit. In this case that was CT-312 and Drystan Creed .

Hydra hummed to himself as he piloted the dropship into No Man's Land. It was surprising to him, that he was enjoying himself. He usually only felt joy in the thrill of the hunt, the peak of combat. Perhaps he should engage in small scale operations in battle more often.

While he was piloting the dropship, Hydra took in the sights. The Force Storm was being unleashed, he felt it as much as saw it. It was… an impressive display of power. The power of a Sith Lord being unleashed. It reminded Hydra once again how important it was to choose the right side of a battle. Which was in his opinion always Sith. Only the Sith had the strength to rule the galaxy, the Imperials wielding a pale imitation of their power.

Hydra smiled softly to himself. He wondered if by agreeing to support CT-312 he had inadvertently irreversibly thrown his support behind her benefactor the Lady Quinn Varanin . If so, he supposed judging by her display of power he could have chosen a worse power among the Sith to support.

It was however irritating to be impatient for close quarters engagement. Hydra was used to up close and personal kills, this positioning of fleets surrounding No Man's Land reminded him of a chess game where each side was afraid of committing their pieces. Hydra grimaced slightly. Well his chance would come soon enough.

The dropship was approaching the spot, CT-312 had commandeered the Imperial vessel to.

"Acknowledged, boarding now." Hydra reached up to flick the switches to dock his craft.

So far this battle had been almost leisurely. It was irritating to say the least.

 

[Onrai]

Location: The Ablution
Allies: Karl Von Strauss Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory Ronhar Tane Calin Rakel Marlon Sularen
Enemies: Hasuras Na-Gerra Darth Nefaron Elmindra Xitaar Seela Leini Quinn Varanin

The focus of the storm whirled around the Ablution. It was nothing Onrai had been unaware of before given her familiarity with the blasphemous rites that had been used to create the stormwall. As a parasitic entity whose existence was an insult to the very fabric of reality, the direction of storm energies upon the Ablution was a welcome feast to be enjoyed rather than something she viewed as a clarion call that there was an unwanted vessel at the edges of the system. A hand was raised, the striking energy of the storm channeled through the vessel as arcs flew from multiple points of the bridge's frame into the 'body' of the blasphemous being. There were very few people who were as aware of the circumstances as best she was.

"Send the transmission." The orders from the form of Vanessa, warped and twisted by the infusion of raw Dark Side energy, were still clear even as her form fluctuated. The bridge crew, acknowledging their master's orders, transmitted the original intended message to the hypergate itself. The intent was to activate the gate itself, allowing for a connection with Hypergate Weken and prevent the Sith from being able to route forces into the immediate area through an additional hypergate in their own territory. The transmission was sent. The codes would prevent such an interdiction.

Or perhaps a way out for Confederate fleet assets if needed.

The woman stood on the bridge, smiling even as electricity coursed over her near-human facade, momentarily revealing spots and speckles of the abomination underneath.

"I hope they send more to us."