The Sixth Seal | First Order

[Natasi Fortan]

​

Three Weeks Ago​

Avalonia, Dosuun​

It began as a trickle -- a satellite offline notification here, a colonial communication beacon going dark there, a supply convoy disappearing in the western fringes of the empire -- that became a stream over the course of a week. The Ministry of Defense had dispatched an expeditionary force to the western reaches, which had -- almost predictably -- gone out of comms three days into the mission.

Natasi studied the report -- frustratingly short of detail as it was -- as she spoke to Admiral Hersch, under whose command the expeditionary force had come from. “Admiral, I am not accustomed to losing ships of any variety, so while I take comfort in the fact that a few light corvettes will not make or break a defense of the empire, they are still our light corvettes and I would like them back. Not to mention the fact that we now have several hundred men missing in action.”

“I understand your frustration, ma’am, but I don’t have an answer. Should we send another force?”

Natasi stroked her chin thoughtfully as she studied the report in front of her. “What are the chances that this was a mass desertion? Or perhaps a mutiny?”

Hersch frowned gravely. “I would say low. A mutiny on one of our ships is unlikely to begin with, but a mutiny on three at once?” He shook his head. “Put that together with the other disappearances…” His voice trailed off.

“Who’s out there now?” Natasi asked, turning to her strategic holomap. She put her glasses on and examined the map. “The Coalition doesn’t have what it takes to effect that kind of mass disappearance, does it?”

“Not that we know of, ma’am, and we’re north of their borders. We have no evidence of them that far north.” Hersch frowned gravely. “This might be the alien force we heard rumors of at the Terminus engagement -- the Sharukan, I believe they were called by our Coalition sources?”

“It might be Father Life Day for all we know,” said Natasi grimly. “I don’t like unknowns, Admiral. Let’s schedule a huddle with Minister Calgar to see if he has any signal intelligence that could shed some light on this.”

Two Weeks Ago​

Avalonia, Dosuun​

The live video feed filled Natasi’s vision, showing the unthinkable.

“What’s the delay on these images?” she asked.

“The Rakata system is -- oh, maybe ten minutes, ma’am,” said Hersch gravely. “By tight beam.”

The ships were monstrous and familiar. “No doubt. Ssi-Ruuvi technology,” said Natasi. It took everything in her not to gape at what she saw: ships that filled orbit around the planet of Rakata Beta. In the distance, flashes of fire and weapons fire erupted around the other planets and facilities in the system. There were more ships than Natasi could count. There were more than their sensors could differentiate, in many cases. It was a sea of enemy signatures, with an ever-diminishing collection of blue dots representing First Order ships. “But -- even at their strongest, we never saw any numbers like this. Never.”

“They appear to be using a more advanced shipbuilding process and weapons technology,” Hersh said, as if Natasi needed to be told.

Natasi slapped the comlink button on her desk to open a channel to Theodore Glass. “I need High Command, Minister Calgar, and Colonel Amsel in the situation room right now. Code Epsilon. Get -- “ Her voice faltered as she watched the First Order’s primary defensive asset in the system -- a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer -- erupt in several places, flames jetting into the vacuum before the ship began to break apart. “Get me the Supreme Leader as well.”

One Week Ago​

Avalonia, Dosuun​

The room smelled of caff and stale sweat.

All around her, technicians from the Security Bureau and military high command bunched around monitors and communication stations. Natasi, for her part, stood in the center of chaos and watched the world unfolds before her.

It was isolated, still, and the First Order navy had done an admirable job engaging the Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium’s invading forces. It was going to be difficult. It was going to be devastating. But the Empire would survive -- somehow. Natasi dabbed her forehead with a linen kerchief and slid it around the back of her neck, where sweat prickled at the collar of her blouse.

Admiral Hersch came over to her, offering a shallow bow from his neck. “Ma’am, we’ve completed our grav and mining of the known space routes between the enemies’ known positions and Dosuun. Progress at thirty percent mining routes to the rest of the interior of the Empire.”

“How effective do we estimate that will be?” Natasi asked anxiously as she leaned in to pick up a glass of water from the table. She quenched her parch throat with a long drink from the glass, then set the glass down again.

“It depends on timing and -- well, luck, I guess,” said Hersch.

Natasi inclined her head. “We should send word to the Sith Imperials. To whoever could help.”

Hersch hedged and cupped his chin. “Ma’am, I would suggest holding off,” he said. “We have a good chance with those mines and our fleets. There is every reason to believe that our efforts will prevail. We will be weakened, for a time. It would be, in my view, a mistake to broadcast that weakness, particularly to those whose loyalty and discretion we cannot guarantee. There might be some who would see that as an invitation to -- “

Natasi waved her hand. “Yes, yes. I understand, Admiral.” Hersch spoke sensibly -- if, perhaps, with a touch more paranoia than was strictly helpful -- and his views would be well-represented in the military establishment. Natasi felt with the rapidly moving attack of the Ssi-Ruuk, it was churlish to indulge old suspicions. But as this wasn’t -- quite -- an existential crisis for the First Order. If Hersch’s advice followed through, the Empire would survive.

If the Grand Moff had her way and could save more First Order lives by asking the Sith Imperials for help, she would have sent an embossed invitation. She would have hand-delivered it. But although the First Order was an authoritarian regime, it wasn’t Natasi whose rule was absolute. She had to balance interests and stroke egos and hold hands. It was fitting that she was described by the propagandists as the Mother of the Nation. Some of them were just plain childish.

“What’s the ETA on the eastern fleet progression?” Natasi asked.

“Ah -- here.” Hersch keyed a command and the map switched, showing arrows moving from east to west. “We should expect reinforcements beginning starting tomorrow, with the bulk of our forces massing at Dosuun by the day after.”

“With Battlegroups Tempest and Hurricane reinforcing Atrisia?” Natasi stepped closer to examine the map. “Will it be enough?”

Hersch hesitated. “With all due respect, Grand Moff Fortan, if we need to fall back to Atrisia, it won’t matter whether we kept the whole fleet there. If it comes to that…” His voice broke off. “But -- I’m optimistic our efforts will drive them back.”

Natasi’s fingers drummed on the back of her chair.

She said nothing.

Today​

Avalonia, Dosuun​

Natasi dreamed of the early days.

Flanked by Ludolf Vaas and Aram Kalast, under the tutelage of Sieger Ren, they had been young and idealistic. They weren’t unstoppable but they felt unstoppable. It was an intoxicating feeling, the sensation of the galaxy yielding to one’s whim, being shaped in one’s own image.

When her dreams turned to nightmares, she watched them disappear one by one. Kalast to an assassin’s attack, then to betrayal and defection; Vaas to the charms of a brazen Jezebel and then to the cold clutches of exile; Sieger -- he merely evaporated, as if even Natasi’s subconscious could not conceive of a way to see him dispatched. In those nightmares, millions of eyes looked to her, and every insecurity and every inadequacy she tried to conceal were written across her face in plain Basic.

She had excused herself from the situation room to take a shower in her office and catch some sleep if she could; Hersch and Dante Calgar had promised to alert her if the situation changed, but the maddening game of cat-and-mouse, hide-and-seek with the invaders had been stagnant, without contact in two days’ time. It was the appropriate moment, if ever there was one, to try to rest.

If only she could.

When Sieger evaporated in front of her she woke with a jolt.

For a moment, she didn’t move. Then there was another knock, and she stood up and put her shoes on before going to the door. She wrenched it open. “What’s the latest?” she asked wearily as she shrugged into her blazer. She flipped her hair -- still damp from the shower and unstyled beyond being brushed -- out from inside her blazer and tugged it shut to button it. "Is that caff I smell?"

 

[Progflaw99]

"And the stars of the heavens fell unto the earth, ​

even as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, ​

when she is shaken of a mighty wind."​

~ Revelation 6:13​

​

-​

​

A pensive sigh escaped Dante's lips as his eyes darted first to and then from the Grand Moff's silhouette. "Yeah, you're going to need this." he said, passing the cup. "And you might want to get into something more... practical." It wasn't a preferential recommendation, but one borne of necessity. His nonchalant manner hid the gravity of the news he bore. The Minister of Security tried to wait till the woman had at least begun to ready herself for the news. She might have picked up on a few subtle hints before his words carried the message. The subtle bulk of his combat uniform, anti-blaster fabric adding a significant weight to the way it fit. The heavy blaster at his hip. The pulsing at the hinge of his jaw. It wasn't good news.

"It's time." his words said nothing and everything. He stepped forward, ready to assist the woman should she find herself overtaken once the reality of situation dawned on her. Aeturnum. No longer was it just an idea, a plan, hundreds of miniature pieces of a puzzle all slowly coming together - this was a final notice, a solution thrust into existence sooner than they'd planned. Looking to Natasi, he bit the inside of his cheek. "We don't have long.. the repo..." his words trailed off, his gaze leveled directly out the glass door towards - no, past the balcony.

Dante's eyes widened, an expression unfamiliar to his features quickly formed upon them. Fear. Outside, ever widening shadows had begun appearing in the distance, the sky dimming. For a moment he remained still, stunned at the latest development. Knowing the end was nigh was one thing, seeing it in real time was another. *Get a grip Calgar. Get. A. Grip.*

[member="Natasi Fortan"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi took the cup from Dante, instantly hating the way the paper cup felt in her hand, warm and somehow soggy. Still, she was grateful for the warmth and caffeine. She quickly lifted it to her mouth and took a long drink as she began advising her as to how she should proceed. She had a flak jacket nearby, draped across a club chair near the fireplace with a blaster and a capsule of cyanide pills.

Just in case.

Natasi set the coffee on the mantle, and again shrugged out of her jacket and set it on the arm of the sofa. She donned the flak jacket over her uniform shirt and did up the fasteners as she listened to Calgar. When his voice faltered, she turned to him --

It was like dusk in the middle of the day. Large shadows had fallen over Avalonia. “No,” she said. Like denying it could stop it being true. “There’s no way,” she gasped as she pushed past Calgar, shoving the door open and marching out onto the balcony. Near and far, descending slowly but steadily towards the surface, streaking like comets through the atmosphere, were Ssi-Ruuvi ships. Already she could see TIE Fighters and other ships lancing through the sky to meet them.

For a moment she was reminded of the sack of Dosuun. Pierce and Roderik von Brinkerhoff leaping into their cockpits and racing across the planet to fight. Natasi herself trapped in Garden Street Station, running resistance ops against the Ssi-Ruuk. But her unspoken question -- where the paralyzing gas pods were, where the entechment troops were -- was answered by the eruption of an explosion in the distance.

They hadn’t come to entech and enslave this time. This time they had come to conquer.

She couldn’t move; she could barely breathe. Until she remembered Calgar, and the situation room full of people waiting for her leadership. She turned and went back to her office, shutting and locking the door behind her. She picked up her blaster and strapped it on. “It’s time,” she repeated to Calgar. Their eyes met for a moment, and for a moment Natasi looked like she wanted to say something more, but instead, she cleared her throat, put her comm earpiece on, and keyed the communicator channel.

“This is Fortan. Commence Operation Exodus immediately. If we haven’t already, start the raid alarms.” Natasi walked towards her desk, from which she extricated a small briefcase. She opened it, examined its contents: a few small, polished wooden boxes, and several sealed letters. “I’m coming back to the situation room.” She muted her comlink. “Are you with me, Dante?”

[member="Dante Calgar"]​

 

[The Major]

Operation Exodus
Dosuun, Avalonia
FOSB Headquarters, Capitol Complex

There was no time to examine how and why this gross breach of security had occurred. During better hours of the empire, punishment for incompetence would be of first importance to the higher ups of this tyrannical iteration of the Security Bureau. Instead, the agency’s enclave of secrets was under direct, vigorous assault by the enemy.

Wave after wave of the lizard hordes had punched gaps in the defenses, and even as communications were abused and threatened to be cut to the fleets in nearby star systems, the agency found themselves pinned and cut off from the rest of the city. Quickly it became evident they weren’t dealing with barbaric hordes of imbeciles. This was a highly trained force who had studied and expanded their tactics from the last sacking of Dosuun. Come to reckoning, those unlucky enough to be at the Capitol Complex soon found themselves in the desperate situation.

Orders from the highest authorities meant established protocols of protecting civilians and essential personnel took precedence. However, with the number of government employees rushing under the shadow of firecloud and flaming starfighter -those assigned with protecting these charges were overwhelmed by the speed of the attack. Already, two of the established strategic hardpoints that allowed access into the Avalonia Underground and the vaults within had been seized by the Ssi-Ruuk. Tunnel fighting was the already the most brutal as squads of security personnel and police desperately clung to every inch -in some instances until the reptilian foes were literally tearing them apart in a gore drenched mess.

It was within one of these two tunnels in which Sybil Shepard found herself engaging in point defence. Using her credentials as Director had managed to see the local battalion of stormtrooper corps assigning a company to assist in defense of the Headquarters proper. While they sealed one tunnel, she did the second of the two breached hardpoints. In an way, she was more attuned to fighting like the monsters did, preferring to tear into them with a healthy dosage of axe work while supported by troopers who did not flinch at the terror they witnessed. They neither quivered when they lost a comrade nor when they had to fight past of the motley viscera of ex-civilians who were only a little too slow.

Under the particularly poignant wave of heavy blaster fire provided by Pvt. Schwab, Sybil affixed the explosive device and thumbed on the timer. Five seconds. Whether she they cleared the hole or didn’t wouldn’t matter. All that they could manage now was seal this slice of Hell and prevent more the enemy coming in from this direction. She turned, and Schwab took a shot to the center forehead. No time to think. Smoke grenades popped. Flashbangs pounded the edges of her head with each successive burst. Yet somehow Sybil just made it with a leap behind a bulkhead.

Boom. The tunnel collapsed, burying the lizards who had followed along with the defenders who had given everything to buy those five seconds.

The Major, pockmarked with scorched marks where blaster bolt met armorweave already was looking like hammered sithspit sporting a feathered hat. The wounded near the sealed vault now licked their wounds, but she had no time. With a hand wave, she ushered the stormtroopers to follow her back to Headquarters, where the agents were on the cusp of being overran.

It was essential that they didn’t fail: four more of the entrances to the underground vaults could be found within the FOSB building….

 

[Thaddeus Wyse]

[member="Isobel Nakano"]

They were sitting casually at the bar of a local restaurant in Avalonia.

Downtime.

Their last mission only ended like two days ago. Already due to another thing in half a week. Why Command was running them this ragged was beyond him. They were putting pieces together, yes. The full picture... elusive. Possibly it would never crystallize for them. Isobel and him were just mooks. Fodder at the end of the day. Val didn't particularly mind that knowledge.

Just the way of things, no? "-and then I figured the only reasonable thing to do was punch him straight in the face." Val finished the story unceremoniously and sipped again from his lemonade.

"Oh, don't look at that, he was fine after he put some ice on it."

In truth Val still wasn't sure this was a good idea. Oh, not the drinks, but the partnership. They were too close to it. Yag'dhul had shifted the parameters. Why Graham had put them together anyway after that? Beyond him. Not that Val was about to complain about it. There were worse partners than Lotus. For one, competent, once all the wounds had healed.

Had a nice left-hook too.

Good shot.

Better looker, but that- yeah, okay, so that was nice too. "You want to get a-" A shadow fall over them. At first Val assumed it was someone obnoxious. The glance over his shoulder said a different story. It was as if the sun was darkened. "What the... chit." Pellian muttered.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

Isobel felt badly that Pellian had been lumped in with her. Although no one would say it, she was compromised; whether she had spilled her guts to Harlow during their time together -- and decidedly, she had not -- she might have. Her colleagues looked at her askance, wondering if she had whispered their name under torture. Some looked at her with pity and some with disgust, as if she were damaged goods. There were questioning looks, too. She was tainted by her ordeal, and it didn't seem fair that Pellian, who hadn't been involved, was also tainted.

Still, at least it was a living. She liked Pellian, perhaps more than she should have, but she found him easy to be around.

And his taste in beer wasn't bad, she reflected as she sipped the one he had ordered her.

"Sometimes you've got to punch a guy in the face," Isobel concurred, lifting her glass in a silent toast. She set her drink down and turned towards the window when Val turned, and her eyes narrowed intently. "What is that?" She dropped a few credit chits on the table and stood, going to the door and pushing out onto the sidewalk. She wasn't the only one. The streets were filling with people, and a moment after she stepped onto the sidewalk the raid alarms went. Isobel instinctively reached for her blaster. In the distance, an explosion belched black smoke and fire stories into the air.

"We should get to HQ," said Isobel, turning to Pellian. "Right away."

[member="Val Pellian"]​

 

[Samka Derith]

Cloud City​

Bespin​

​

​

​

Far from Dosuun, a pristine young woman sat in her pristine apartment. The bright whites and crystal decor was typical of Cloud City's affluent areas. Very little personal touches could be seen in room. A duelling sword was mounted to a wall. A book on the intricacies of flower arrangement was neatly discarded on a coffee table besides a seamless sofa. A sculpture of a vaguely feminine figure stood opposite the front door. Beautiful at first glance but the shape of the figure seemed to indicate she was bound and in distress. Other than these, the rooms seemed barren, generic...

In the corner of the living room the young woman sat. Samka Derith, Knight of Ren, was practising the piano. Nimble fingers passed over the keys to play a soft, peaceful song. A small mistake was made once in a while. The wrong key pressed or the timing flawed but she nodded along with the rhythm, pleased with the improvements she had been making. Song and dance had been her focus as a child, the ability to play a musical instrument was a desire but not one she'd had the time to pursue. She was enjoying making up for lost time.

The gentile music she was making was cut short by the sound of her communicator chirping frantically. Samka's lips pursed with displeasure at the interruption. Her focus was lost and the music abruptly ended. She had been in such a good place then the reality of her duty called her from it as it always did. She had set the thing to only alert for emergencies, this was due to be 'her time' after all. Years of absolute devotion had surely earned a day or two's respite so she could enjoy life's pleasures like those enjoyed by the masses who owned her their existence, no? No. The answer was always no.

Turning on the communicator, she was treated to a generic alert message from a droid. Emergency protocol. Recalled to Dosuun. Samka tutted, she'd wanted more information than that. A scan of the news turned up little of note. The censors were probably still working out how to respond.

It was preciously these situations which justified the branch out of contracts beyond the official ones brought with her position. A message was quickly typed and sent to a contract within the FOSB.

Dosuun situation? Tell all.​

​

The reply came as swift as her own message.

Large enemy invasion force. Hostile troops on ground. All off duty service personnel recalled.​

​

She rose a brow. Beneath all the propaganda, it was a fact that Dosuun was among the most secure systems in the galaxy. The sacking of Dosuun should have ensured events like it never be repeated.

Mumbling about bad feelings, Samka Derith took her coat, locked her apartment and headed to her ship.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Fortress Vader​

Mustafar​

​

​

On a day like this, it was nothing out of the ordinary for the fiery volcanos of Mustafar to block out all light. It would have done this for at least a few times during the weak on the harsh and unforgiving world. Mustafar was a fringe world in First Order space often mined for resources for the Imperial War Machine, for Kyrel it was a place of quiet thinking, solitude, and meditation within the very center of the dark side. The tall obsidian Spire known as Fortress Vader was a place he had called his own personal sanctuary for many years now. Since acquiring it from the New Jedi Order, he had studied the many mysteries of the dark side, and that of Lord Vader himself.

For the Master of Ren, he was attached to no greater place. Within the top of the dark tower, he sat within the very center of the Dark Side Locus. Often finding the room that he was in strange, almost strange as the tomb of Lord Thaxsis within the catacombs underneath. In this room, he felt that the dark side was most strong, he sat meditating wondering what did Vader do, or even the Ancient Sith before him even attempt to do. He tried to reach into the very darkest depths of the dark side, almost seeking something from within. More power perhaps, or even knowledge that could be unlocked in even greater realms.

Such attempts were all but stopped as he had felt something... A tremor in the Force that snapped him out of his meditation, his eyes opened with a gold flash as he stood up. Approaching the Turbolift that led straight to his own quarters, the former quarters of Lord Vader, refit to his own design. The door opened he was greeted to a room of dark obsidian, shelves filled with Ancient Texts and Sith Holocrons from the Archives, and a stand that held the armor of the former dark lord as if a trophy perhaps.

From the Holoprojector, the console blinked Red as if a message had appeared, with two fingers he turned it on. The words that read to him in Aurebesh brought about a mixture of dread and excitement.

"All First Imperial personal called back to Dosuun immediately... Large enemy force invading." ​

​

He could barely comprehend what was going on. No one would dare strike at the Imperial Capital. But he knew that everyone had to be summoned immediately, He took out a chip and inserted it into the console downloading all knowledge from the Archives for safekeeping, before making his way to the Hanger and departing in his own starship, setting the coordinates for Dosuun prepared for whatever came next.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The situation room was grim.

The defense was going as well as could be expected against overwhelming odds. Natasi had finished the caff that Calgar brought and poured herself before approaching Admiral Hersch at the command map. "Where are we on the evacuations, Admiral?" she asked anxiously, her eyes tracing over a sea of red surrounding small pockets of blue and green signatures. She frowned gravely, and Hersch matched her visage.

"We've got something of a snag, Ma'am," Hersch said, changing the view on the table. "We have the first batch of evacuations ready -- government and civilian priorities -- but the Imperium's command ship has dropped a system-wide interdiction. We are confident in our ability to get the ships out of the system, but that's predicated upon them moving rapidly to the jump point. With interdiction, there's no way they can, and we can't get them in the air or into space, because they will almost certainly be destroyed."

Natasi's frowned deepened. "If the ships can't take off, the other ships can't land to collect the others being evacuated," Natasi said, reasoning through the situation. "If they can't be collected, they must be queued at the evacuation points. They're sitting ducks, I think the phrase is," she said, turning to Hersch with a raised eyebrow.

"Succintly put, Ma'am," said Hersch with a small bow.

"How can we disable that interdiction?" Natasi asked, changing the view to space to see the space battle unfolding. "Can't our fleets hit the command ship?"

"They're using a kind of shield technology we, uh, seem to be having trouble with," said Hersch.

Natasi finished her coffee and crushed the cup in her fingers. "We're running out of time, Admiral," she said sternly. "We need a solution here. What haven't we tried?"

Hersch hesitated. "We did have an idea, ma'am, but -- we can't spare any of our ships to try it. We need every gun."

"What's the plan?" Natasi asked. Hersch outlined his plan, which involved overwhelming the ship's shields and structural integrity with a massive kinetic and energy attack, involving loading a ship up with enough baradium and other explosives to wipe the surface of Dosuun clean, and then crashing it at high speed -- or lightspeed -- into the mothership. The catch-22, it seemed, was that until their command ship was disabled and the system opened to traffic again, they couldn't spare a ship large enough to do it, and reinforcements couldn't arrive to free up one of their ships.

"Although..." Hersch said softly, glancing sidelong at her. She returned his gaze blankly. "You're not going to like it, ma'am."

"What?"

"Concordia," he said. Natasi's nostrils flared. Concordia was still in drydock following its near-destruction at Skor II. The ship's temperamental reactor had been damaged and so its weapons systems had not been restored. The Sith sphere was offline. She was loathe to sacrifice the ship; it was so emblematic of herself and her position and her philosophy. It would be a crippling blow.

Natasi chewed the inside of her cheek. "We have to try. Do it, Admiral." But then, a thought occurred -- "The ship is locked down for security. Only my handprint can reactivate the reactor."

"Well then -- we'll have to think of something else," Hersch said.

"No," said Natasi. "Concordia is on the other side of the planet," she reasoned. "I'm confident that we can make it there. Have your men begin transferring the baradium, and I'll ready my ship." Natasi studied the map for a few moments, suppressing a violent shudder. She seemed to be in possession of more facts than Hersch was. That would make this easier. "Get Director Shepard. I will need an escort and it will need to be someone we can trust implicitly."

"And that's Shepard?" asked Hersch doubtfully; he must have heard of l'affair du Graf.

Natasi's smile was equal parts enigmatic and sad. "For this, that's Shepard. Get her right away."

Before I have a chance to change my mind.

The priority signal went out that Director Shepard was to report to the Palace docking level, and Natasi went to meet her, taking with her the small briefcase she had carried in.

​

[member="The Major"]​

 

[Robogeber]

"All batteries, concentrate fire on their carriers!" The Imperator commanded, his voice strained as he watched the ripple of Ssi-Ruuk torpedoes slam against the Pellaeon. The Grand Admiral turned to his display, they simply outgunned. The amount of vessels they were facing, it was simply untenable. Even as the gargantuan star destroyers now lifted into orbit from the shipyards below, it was too little, too late. The fleet was in chaos. Corvettes were disappearing by the minute.

"Grand Admiral, word from Riflor and Dosuun, they're-" The messenger did not need to complete his sentence. This was worse than he thought. Far larger scale than he believed. The crew, despite the chaos swirling around them, seemed to descend upon the Grand Admiral. Fear, clasping at all of their hearts.

"Orders, sir?" The voice's source was unknown. But it conveyed what they were all thinking. Uncertainty. Quivering fear which seemed to suffocate them all. But what could they do? The Ssi-Ruuk had seemingly assaulted every major system. Who knew how may were being besieged.

The Pellaeon rocked again, as blasts slammed its hull. What could they do. "We hold our position." He commanded, "We wait for the fleet to deploy itself fully, and then," They all hinged on his word, "We defend this sector, and reinforce the next." He commanded, "And then we evaluate ourselves, our options." he paused, and gazed over the crew pits. "Hold steady," he commanded, "We will see this through.

 

[Sienna Vekarr]

Location: Dosuun aboard the Absolute Victory

Sienna swallowed hard at her station. She was a commander now and second in command of this vessel. She had only been transferred to it several days ago by orders of the highest magnitude. While she didn't have access to the full plans and ship movements of the First Order, she had been in logistics long enough to piece together that the bulk of their fleets had been moved to one of very few places with the largest concentrations being at Atrisia and here at Dosuun. She had heard the rumors of the vicious tentacle raptors from the Unknown Regions, she'd heard the stories of previous skirmishes and scuffles...But they seemed so harmless then.

Though in recent times "harmless" wasn't a word most of the military would describe enemies of the First Order. Loss after loss they were starting to add up...But Sienna held out hope. When Issue 45 of Dispatch was released it was all she could do to keep her relief from showing on her face.

But it turns out that was a lie as well...

The bridge shuddered from a blow the massive Resurgent-class battlecruiser took from the Ssi-Ruuvi war machines.

"Direct hit to our starboard flank! Rear shields holding at 60%!"

The voice was barely heard over the cacophony of beeps, taps, and other voices shouting out similar updates. She looked up at the man commanding the vessel. An older man from some backwater world, just like her. The Commodore looked paler than usual as he barked out commands. Another rumble came from the vessel as a turbolaser battery was knocked offline, lighting up the screen in front of her. She didn't need to say it at this point.

How could they have been so blind? So full of hubris, to be taken down by these...creatures from the Unknown Regions?

 

[Micah tol Powl]

[ Jorah's Theme ]​

S K Y E
THE ACADEMY

The boy's dormitory featured two younglings to a room. To maximize the small space, there were high-sleeper style beds on either side, with a desk and work area underneath the mattress loft. The communal den was shared between the young Zabrak and the human boy, Voren.

The separate sleeping palettes notwithstanding, the two boys were intertwined atop the one bed. Tangled around them was an array of bed sheets, holo-comics, and the flashlight that they'd been using to read the comics before they had both drifted off to sleep.

They both snapped awake when the alarms sounded.

The pair looked at each other for a moment, then Jorah attempted to roll out of the bed. In his mind, he pictured himself landing on his feet. In reality, he just flopped right out onto the floor.

The door to their quarters popped open, negating the lock that ordinarily ensured that the younglings respected the so-called quiet hours around the Academy dormitories. Outside, the hallways, the pair could hear the sounds of the staff running back and forth.

"All students report to the hangar bay. All students report to the hangar bay."

With a large yawn, the red and black colored Zabrak stumbled out into the hall. Already, lines of younglings were forming as they spilled into the main corridor and were ushered toward the hangar bays. As Rayate and Barhis came into view, Voren asked, "What's going on?

"I over heard one of the stormtroopers talking. They said there's an attack at Dosuun," Rayate noted, as the Atrisian boy seemed to be struggling to fully wake, as was the case for the rest of them.

It was the middle of the night by Skye's rotation.

What in the Force was going on?

 

[Thaddeus Wyse]

[member="Isobel Nakano"]

It didn't take long to pin-point the reason for the sun going out.

A fleet hung over the sky. They were already belching out fighters. Explosions occurred in the distance, the sensation shuddering through the ground and causing the raid alarms to be engaged in short order. There was chaos in the streets. Civilians trying to make it home, or to the bomb shelters, both maybe. At the very least the Stormtroopers knew what to do.

Legionnaires were already arraying.

Moving to and fro, starting to mobilize reinforcement points and setting up mobile anti-air platforms. "They picked the wrong world for their assault." Val mumbled, before Isobel's words got through to him. That allowed him to tear his eyes away from the skies. Nodding quickly. "Right you are, Graham is gonna have a fit." It was her tea break after all.

Whoever these people were... they were rightfully karked now.

He followed Isobel into the streets. Trying to pave a way through the crows, into an alley for a shortcut. That was when the skies lit up with the barrages of lasers and torpedoes.

"Kark!" A stray explosion caused the building before them to ravage into stray duracrete and metal. Val quickly pulled Isobel back. Right in time, because the end of the alleyway devolved into rock. "Not that way then..." He mumbled. Frowning as he glanced up. TIE fighters were already mobilized, starting sorties against the invading force. "We won't make it to HQ in this mess. We need to hunker down in the safehouse. Cresh is the closest one, I think?" The FOSB had chapter houses all across Dosuun and their other territories.

Bolt-holes were agents could lay low when necessary.

"We can get in contact with Graham there."

 

[Samka Derith]

This seems awfully familiar.

These were the first thoughts that crossed her head as Samka saw the images of Dosuun under assault. It was a response that was cold and detached. Years ago, such sights would have reduced her to unbridled anger. She would have fought to the death for every inch of the First Order capital.

Now...

Now she was wondering how much was worth saving.

It was obvious to her that the planet was mostly lost. It could be retaken if efforts were made to evacuate troops and supplies but that would require resources expended to keep it. Measuring the cost to reward ratio could prove difficult.

Extraordinary speed saw her vessel dodge through the enemy's assortment of fleets and fighters in orbit and break through to the surface of the Imperial homeworld.

The young girl trotted outwards onto the surface. It was time to assess the situation, find allies and extract anything meaningful.

Spoiler

(Quick, generic landing post. Tag me if you're nearby and wanna do stuff!)

 

[Kyrel Ren]

When the TIE Silencer emerged from Hyperspace, the sight before Kyrel Ren from the view of his cockpit, had himself gritting his teeth in fury. There were perhaps hundreds if not thousands of Ssi-Ruuvi starships, more jumping in as every Imperial Craft able to fight were already sent out It looked as if the size of sector fleets fighting to save the very capital of the Imperial nation. All he could feel was blinding fury within the confines of his fighter. Could it be saved, would the hope of an Imperial Government ruling the galaxy even possible? Was the dream they had strived for, fought for years... Was it all finally over?

It was something even the Master of Ren could not allow himself to believe in. Not even for an instance, he would die first before seeing such a dream fall.. He engaged the accelerator of the fighter, thankful that he wouldn't be detected on enemy scanners... They wouldn't even see him coming, and thought in itself brought a delightful grin to his eye, he saw everything... From Lancer cruisers to Resurgent Battlecruisers engaging the enemy, he could have sworn he even saw his own TIE Conquerers in a squadron engaging enemy fighters and capital ships. The entirety of the navy was being brought out, every inch there was capital ship after capital ship engaging one another.

He pressed hard on the control yokes, let an almost violent scream tear from his mask, blinded by anger as he started firing the lasers. Green blasts mixed in with bright orange explosions as he started to move in, first chasing enemy fighters before moving in to help protect the capital ships, targeting enemy hangers and shielding. "Help! This is Admiral Cain of the FIV Imperator requesting support... Systems in critical!" The voice of the officer led him through the maze of both friendly and enemy fire. He only hoped he would reach in time, or that the ground was having an easier job.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Aboard the Resurgent Class Destroyer FIV Imperator, the woman known as Admiral Cain watched in horror as Destroyers were crushed under the crushing bootheel of the Ssi-Ruuk forces, of course, she did not show her fear, and yet stood firm in the face of the enemy of course. She still told the officers to still fire the turbolasers, and to have the fighters try to chase away the bombers that hammered at her shields. With the bulk of the Seventh Fleet consisting of three Resurgents, several Vanquisher Destroyers, a small fleet of anti Fighter corvettes, and Lancer cruisers. The Vanguard Fleet Carriers had nearly exhausted all the Fighter waves they could muster against the increasing enemy that came wave after wave.

She silently hoped that the help that she so desperately needed, would arrive. Another part of her hoped that she would only suffer a quick and honorable death, and even she the cold admiral admitted that on the inside she felt fear, fear that the beloved dream she had worked hard to achieve, it was now all slipping away. As if it was the dreams of many other First Imperials before her, and now as if it was only an echo. Even as the enemy bombers were gunning for the bridge, she closed her eyes in acceptance of her quiet fate, that she had died for her Supreme Leader.

Yet when she opened her eyes, she saw that the bombers erupted in an orange glow, a TIE Fighter of unusual design roared past the bridge, as she heard the cold mechanical tone speak to her comm. "Have faith Admiral Cain. I will not allow the enemy to harm you." For a moment Cain breathed a sigh of relief before returning back to the comm, trying desperately to hide the nervousness from her voice. "Thank you, May I ask who this is?" She asked and Kyrel gave an answer. "I am Kyrel Ren servant of the Supreme Leader..." To hear the answer brought a sense of shock to Cain, as she had heard of the mysterious rumors about a group called Ren... But she thought they were stories, propaganda nothing more. Yet she was honored to have been saved in the nick of time.

"What is it that you ask of me Ren?" She had asked him while bracing for yet another barrage of the enemy, Kyrel spun his fighter, firing a set of missiles into an enemy capital ship. Taking out it's bridge before replying. "This battle will not be won today Admiral. I need you to coordinate whatever forces you can, make a defensive line and hold at the edge of the system, and if need be follow the coordinates that I have given you. We must save as many as we can." He said transmitting the coordinates to Mustafar to her, to which she was shocked. "Mustafar, Ren? Why such a hostile world." He replied in a ruthless tone, evading laser fire from the enemy. "Because it's far from the enemy and if need be we will make a stand there." Cain couldn't fathom why she was given such coordinates of all places to that hell of a world. Yet she nodded and replied. "What of you Ren?"

Kyrel replied as he directed his fighter to Dosuun's surface. Targeting any fighter that got in his path, and started to carve his way through blasts of orange and green mixed in a beautiful display of death and destruction. "I will see who I can save on the surface, for the sake of the Order... Holdout as much as you can." He said with a sense of urgency and while Cain would do her best to organize a sort of fighting retreat, Kyrel was on a mission of his own, to face the enemy and save who he could... From the war-torn streets of the Imperial Capital Avalonia.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

"Cresh," Isobel agreed, rolling her eyes back in her head as she tried to remember where that was. "Corner of Twenty-Fifth and Garden Street," she said. Thanks to the First Order's uncanny obsession with bringing order to the chaos of unsettled outer rim worlds, the vast majority of Avalonia was set out in tidy blocks, with broad avenues framing garden spaces and blocks of impressive buildings. The grid-like nature of the streets made finding locations easy, provided one knew where one was. Streets running north-south had alphabetical names; streets running east-west were numbered, with the occasional ceremonial avenue doubling as parade grounds. Thus, the safehouse was at the intersection of the seventh street counting east from the entry to the center of the city, twenty-five blocks south of the Imperial Palace at the northernmost point of the city.

As violence and panic erupted around her, Isobel tried to stay focused. She followed Val into the alley and doubled-back when that avenue was cut off from their egress. "Speeder," Isobel panted as they dashed across a street. There was a late-model and rather sleek-looking speeder bike parked in front of the bistro they had just left. "I can hotwire it." There was, perhaps, some sort of moral quandary there, but Isobel couldn't quite find it in her to care much about it. It was critical that they get in touch with the Delilah Graham or what was left of the FOSB command. She threw a leg over the bike and pulled her hairpin out, using it to pop the electrical panel open. She studied the innards for a moment, trying to ignore the shouting and screaming going on around her.

"Just a moment... almost -- ow!" She frowned gravely and shook her hand, trying to shake off the shock. Isobel went back to work, carefully adjusting the wires until, a few moments later the engine roared to life. "Yes!" she whispered. "Are you coming or not, Pellian?" She kicked the accelerator, revving the engine.

[member="Val Pellian"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

There was no time to lose. There was no time to wait.

Natasi scrawled a note and left it with Theodore Glass with instructions to give it to [member="The Major"]. The instructions were simple: go to Bakura and retrieve her children and Pierce if they were still living. Take them to Galidraan. Seek refuge with the Queen of Galidraan. Find a guardian from their family -- Natasi's cousin Pierce, her half-sister Decima, or Talbot's brother Thaddeus or sister Petra -- who would protect their interests and keep them safe from Fiolette, whose intentions Natasi had not been able to verify. Natasi thought it would have been extremely poor breeding to remind Sybil that her continued existence had been in Natasi's gift and that she owed her very breath to the Grand Moff, so she didn't, but she was sure that the message would come through.

Somehow.

Her last instructions to Theodore were to get off-world as soon as he had placed the note in Sybil's hands. Find Aeternum. Carry the torch. No matter the cost.

As he watched her march up the ramp onto her stealth corvette, Theodore had a sickening sensation that he wasn't going to see Natasi Fortan again any time soon.

- - - - -​

​

Twenty minutes later, she disembarked in the forward bay of the FIV Concordia. Her footfalls were purposeful and steady as she disembarked. Only a small corner of the bay was available; the rest of the bay was filled with ships or cargo. Not just any cargo, either; the ship was being packed to the gills with baradium and fuel. The foreman recognized her, hustled over to salute. "Ma'am, we're nearly finished. Admiral Hersch asked me to inform you that the fleet will perform a frontal assault on the scales' flagship to give cover to the Concordia's.... operation," he finished diplomatically.

"Understood." Natasi glanced around the bay, her dark eyes scanning the proceedings. "Captian, I have a new order from you. Come with me." She crooked her head back towards her ship.

- - - - -

Natasi watched from the bridge of Concordia as the last of the ships pulled away, retreating back around the planet towards the dry-dock facility -- all except the barely-visible trails of her own stealth corvette. She had hastily added Captain Tramitt's handprint to the authorized list so that he could take the ship. His instructions were to get to Galidraan and deliver the ship to Mr. Hendersmith at Herevan Hold, with instructions to wait there until the guardian of her children was identified. If her children were dead -- it had nearly killed Natasi to speak the words -- he was to keep the ship with her thanks. Her eyes watched until she could no longer detect its traces, then she set about to her task.

She opened a channel to the fleet. "Admiral Hersch -- Dosuun home fleets -- this is Concordia. Calculating path to the Imperium flagship. Stand by to execute diversion on my command."

"Grand Moff?" Hersch asked over the comm channel. "Are you still aboard Concordia?"

"That's an affirmative," Natasi said. She leaned over the command console, flipping this switch and that as she plotted her course. "The autopilot is malfunctioning," she explained. "So a manual override is required."

Hersch's disbelief was palpable. "Ma'am," he said. "Someone else should -- "

Natasi cut him off. "No, Admiral. It's not possible. The failsafes would prevent any kind of intentional collision. Only my biosignature can override the controls." She chuckled, her voice weary as she shook her head. "A safety feature we put in place to prevent sabotage by the likes of the traitors Graf and Yvarro ends up being our undoing. I am aware of the irony, Admiral."

"Then we will come up with another plan," Hersch protested.

"We will not," said Natasi calmly. "Steady on, Admiral. Just prepare to give the diversionary order and signal for our reinforcement fleets and allies to jump when -- " She fell silent a moment, then swallowed audibly and finished: "When it's over."

"Natasi -- "

"Listen carefully, Admiral. My calculations say that I haven't much time. Prepare to give the signal." Natasi stared out the viewport; she couldn't believe that this was how it would end for her. There was so much she wanted to do -- so much she had left unsaid and undone, always assured that she would live to fight another day. But there were no more tomorrows for her. In order for the nation she loved, the nation she had built, to survive, she had to die. She supposed she had always known it would come to this, deep down.

The surprise was how soon it was.

Another surprise: for once, the Grand Moff was speechless. She had nothing to say, no grand words or pretty speech. Words failed her. Grimacing, she accelerated Concordia's speed. "Admiral Hersch, give the order." She heard the order go out. First Order Star Destroyers advanced at the Imperium flagship, drawing its fire and, Natasi hoped, its attention. She slammed forward the throttle. Alarms began to blare as the ship's failsaves activated. Natasi pressed her palm on the override controls. There was no stopping this show now. Concordia continued to accelerate, and a hyperspace jump was programmed in case the Imperium flagship dropped its interdiction in an attempt to escape her attack, but in theory, the high speed and massive fuel and explosives reserves would do the trick, hyperspace jump or not.

Natasi inhaled deeply, struggling to retain her composure. Even with no one there to witness it, Natasi didn't want to let the side down.

"Ma'am," Hersch's voice broke through Natasi's reverie. "It looks like they've noticed you. We're scrambling fighters to intercept." A brief pause. "They're dropping interdiction!"

"I see it, Admiral Hersch," Natasi said. She straightened her back and looked out the viewport. Concordia was positioned like a great arrowhead, pointed at the Imperium flagship. There was no time, now. No time to process, no time to think. Certainly, no time to think of something to say. Natasi moved automatically, seizing the hyperspace control lever and pushed it forward decisively. The viewport went white as stars streaked, and Natasi saw no more.

- - - - -​

​

There was a blinding flash in Dosuun local space, visible on the ground and across the system, as Concordia disappeared into hyperspace only to collide at lightspeed with the Imperium flagship, rending it violently. Shockwaves emanated from the Ssi-Ruuvi ship, wrecking its escort ships as well. The interdiction went down as the wreckage of Concordia and the flagship careened through space, cutting a path of destruction through the Ssi-Ruuk Imperium ships. In the situation room in the Imperial Palace, Hersch watched in disbelief, allowing himself that luxury for only a moment before he stood up and inclined his head. "Let us not waste this chance," he ordered. "Begin the evacuation right away."

 

[The Major]

Operation Exodus
Dosuun, Avalonia
80% of city held by Ssi-Ruuk forces
Near Imperial Palace

https://youtu.be/LcJu-oDdac8​

The perimeter had been breached. The enemy had launched a successful pincer and enveloping maneuver throughout the Capital Complex, cutting off access with their troops and vehicles. On one side, the smoldering ruins of the FOSB Headquarters: many floors torn open by the crashing of a Ssi-Ruuk frigate which had been felled while ferrying more platoons. The results were fantastic. The mire of charred organs, burning fuel, and twisted beams of steel made an effective barrier for the imperial forces and agents still holding the remaining structure. Openings in the wreckage made natural killzones, to which piles of lizard corpses could attest. However, those on the defending side could no longer get out while under fire, and so the order from some pissing Colonel was to retreat into the vaults and seal them until the situation topside improved. It may seem cowardly, but lives and many secrets could be saved in this way. Yet, it made returning to HQ pointless.

On the other end of the Capital Complex was the Imperial Palace. Here the enemy was most ruthless and effective. Despite the losses the guard was able to hold.

The problem was that the cadre of FIST troopers and the Major herself had been stuck in no man’s land between both hardpoints. Picked apart and under constant barrage, the platoons assigned to push through and link up were hard pressed to stay alive. It was only minutes. Had to only have been minutes, but actually more than an hour had transpired. Maybe two. At some point early on in the push communications and sensors were either blocked beyond use or so full of emergency reports that the network became a screech of nonsense. It would have been impossible to tell while constantly reduced to frenzied melees which the invaders were particularly fond of. Good men and women, better, more dedicated servants than the brash agents of the Security Bureau, fell. The situation only became more grim once Captain Edinborough was slain by a thermal detonator.

Then a flash from above -blinding light. For those fighting below it was a brilliant distraction which caused both sides to pause in the middle of combat. Except for the Major, caked in dust and grime, who ignored the momentary lapse and screamed for the platoon to charge forward to their destination. Thanks to the sacrifice above the enemy below was thrown off balance just enough in this little piece of Hell.

The soldiers pushed with all their might, sprinting like crazed animals…

…and they made it to the steps of the Palace. Even here, they could not celebrate their victory surrounded now by the friendly line. The enemy quickly closed the gap with reinforcements.

Once Sybil had presented herself to the command room as ordered, Mr. Glass approached and nearly recoiled from the sight of the Director. Normally, she made every effort to be immaculate in her presentation. Instead what he spotted was a ragtag line trooper, completely slicked in chalk of pulverized armor and speckles of sprayed gore. Her forehead had appeared to have been violently slashed by some kind of blade, because part of it had been bandaged up and despite this, blood continuously tricked down the side of her face. He could definitely tell she had been shot through at least twice during all the commotion, meaning bacta patches, biogel, and force knows what kind of combat drugs were pumping full bore within. Her armorweave clothes were torn and frayed in multiple places, betraying no sense of splendor any longer.

Shocked, he regained his composure before handing over Natasi’s last note. He made his departure, leaving Shepard to read it over alone surrounded by those in charge of the defense. Disgust rippled across her face.

“What is this?” She sneered.

A commander explained it as a note from the Grand Moff.

“Where is she?” Sybil tossed out, irritation making her blood stained face look even redder.

Another commander explained she departed to the Concordia.

“Did she leave?” Now anger mixed with confusion.

They explained the ship had just collided with the Ssi-Ruuk mothership.

“What? And where is her escape pod? Has it been found?” Now confusion flourished with concern.

Faltering, the commander stumbled in hesitation -lacking the words for what had occured. Another finished the statement. The Statement.

“WHAT!?”

It was explained again.

“W--- why? Who authorized this? Why was this done?” Concern bubbled with suspicion. She was being lied to, there was a scheme, everything was a conspiracy. Sybil glared at each person, digging into their mind with powers she was loathe to use. But they were honest, which was only more confusing.

The Grand Moff has authorized her final actions, and it was done to because only her handprint could allow the Concordia to be used in such a manner.

“She said that?! A handprint sensor? You idiots allowed her to do this?” Her once white gloved hands, now black with soot, cupped the sides of messy tangle of ashen filled auburn hair. Frustration pierced through now.

Again, they explained. There was nothing that could be done….

“Kark! You fething morons. You’ve killed her! You’ve murdered her! This is on all of you, standing aside and watching contently while our Lady commits to delirium in her final hour. Damn you! Damn all of you.”

Once again it was explained. Natasi had no choice. Natasi sacrificed to let everyone left escape. Natasi saved them again. The ship could only be accessed with her handprint.

“THEN FETHING CHOP OFF HER BLOODY HAND AND HAVE A DROID DO THE DEED. YOU IGNORANT FOOLS. Gods. We’re lost.” Overcome with her shouting, Sybil ignored any sense of dignity as tears mixed with the bleeding over her eye, forming a stream of red -a morbid, red lace.

And still nobody had a report on Supreme Leader.

“We’re bloody lost.” She would have torn her own head apart with her very hands, for the way that Sybil pulled on her skull in anguish. Something smoldered inside, and very familiar feelings of being too slow, being too late tormented her consciousness. Once again, her pride had separated Lady Shepard from someone she cared about deeply, and because of that rift, she was not in place properly to dispel disaster. Only one person paid for that last time. This time, an entire nation would reap the rewards of such careless arrogance.

Ignoring anything else that was said by the command room staff, the Major wandered out in a stupor -convinced that this had to be some kind of fruitless joke. Slowly, she disconnected from the reality of her situation, and walked back to the frontline, only a few fortified hallways and a set of steps away from the command center.

Outside, she heard the whine of blaster fire and grenades. Outside, she could pinpoint the most intense din. Smiling with the migraine now reverberating to the beat of her heart rate, Sybil leaned into the violence, and joined the battle once more -lost like so many of the young women and men around her were about to be.

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Sienna Vekarr]

An order came over the comms that made the commodore's left eye twitch. It drew silence from the entire bridge. The only sounds that remained were the occasional beep of a console and the dull rumbles of muted explosions from the aural sensors. He took a step forward and looked down into the crew pits and around the control bridge. They all looked to him, even Sienna.

"We have our orders!!" he shouted, spit flying from his mouth. "Attack. That. Ship!!!" Again the room was a flurry of activity as they went about relaying orders to gun crews and directing shields as needed. The Absolute Victory's full power bore into the massive capital ship, its green energy joining the mass of the remaining First Order fleet.

One of the markings of a good First Order officer was the ability to follow any order whether or not one knew the larger picture or the full plan. One simply...Followed orders. But something in her gut told Sienna that this day was not one of those days. No day after this would be. The blinding light came and lingered for what felt like a thousand years. It brought silence over the entire bridge. Sienna had never seen something as beautiful as that and as the brilliant light faded cheers and shouts and hugs were had. This was something new for the First Order she felt. Such expression was never a part of the Order she knew, but...it brought a smile to her face. Until she noticed something hurtling at them...

She patted the officer next to her who moved in for an embrace blindly. She protested loudly and pointed at the viewport. It was coming too fast. A few others had seen it and started scrambling to the doors. Shouts of triumph turned into shouts of terror as superheated shrapnel came flying at them. Shields held for two or three bursts. The Commodore walked through the crowd and stared confused at the scene. Chunks of both ships flew at them and all he could do was...watch.

Sienna wouldn't worry about his foolishness though. Her and a handful of others managed to get to the lift, warning everyone in their path. Packed like salted fish they flew down the shute. The shrapnel overwhelmed the forward particle shields and cut striaght through the bridge, killing everyone inside and dropping power for a moment, sending the pod plummeting to the ground.

-----------------------​

​

Sienna woke up on a pile of bodies. Limbs twisted in ways that shouldn't have been possible greeted her along with wails of pain and crying. She stumbled out of the broken open pod, a gash up her back and a severe limp. Her hair was a mess and half her vision was turning red. She took a deep breath and limped away from the mass. She pulled out her ship comm as the walls around her sparked.

"This is Senior Captain Sienna Vekar to auxiliary command, what is your status?!"

"Captain!" came a shaky reply, "Where is the commodore? Is he-"

"Yes. I am now the," she paused to groan off mic, "I am the ranking officer on this vessel...What are our orders from Admiral Hersch?" She winced and pressed her shoulder against the wall, using it to support her better leg. She was more broken than she thought.

There was a long pause.

"You should hear them yourself."

-----------------------​

​

She stood there in the secondary command center holding her arm. Shock and disbelief plastered on her face. They'd lost several Resurgents, cruisers, frigates, pilots...And worst of all...

"Grand Moff Natasi Fortan is dead," It was a blow to the chest. Sienna had looked up to the woman since joining the First Order all those years ago. Knowing that she had sacrificed herself so that she, so that all the First Order could live...It was both inspiring and decidedly depressing at the same time. She was nobody, literally a sand rat from Jakku and such a powerful, gifted woman felt the need to save not just her, but millions of people like her that were in the First Order.

"Operation Exodus is to continue as planned." The rest of the message she barely remembered. The battle in space continued to rage, though every once i a while a blip off or on the map indicated a First Order ship fleeing the system or a new Imperium warship entering the system. Her head was wrapped now and she could see without the taint of blood in her eye. A robotic brace kept her definitely broken leg in place and her dislocated shoulder was back in place, if not throbbing despite the pain killers. Others weren't so lucky. While the Absolute Victory held more than enough medical space for the predicted injuries of the stormtroopers and crew, every shuttle that landed in the massive hangars brought more wounded. Half of the galley had been turned into a makeshift medbay even. The new second in command, a woman even younger than her commanded the vessel for now as Sienna sat in the dark of the captain's quarters as she tried to wrap her head around everything that happened. The photo of the Commodore and his family had been turned on its face.

-----------------------​

​

The hangar was bustling with activity. Stormtroopers and navy personnel moved and herded people into groups as shuttles came and went. A shuttle just about to reach the containment field exploded in a brilliant fireball that illuminated the hangar causing shouts of surprise among the civilians and brief panic. An ensign jogged up to her, his red hair matted to his freckled face.

"Captain, that was to be our last arrival." Sienna's eyes locked on a girl in ragged, blood splattered clothes wandering from a line crying. Debris and smoke had made her light brown hair almost black and the tears only made the muck on her face smear. With a sigh she walked over and attempted to comfort the girl. The ensign couldn't see or hear what she said but the girl's wailing turned to sniffles and she nodded her head and gripped the Captain's hand.

"Then get the ship ready to jump. Our engines are barely holding on and we're down to our backup hyperdrive. Make sure everyone here is ready for a jump." The young man nodded and jogged away. With a smile to the little girl holding her hand she started walking towards the turbolift, child in tow. The girl walked slightly behind her, her hand almost fully in her mouth.

Once in the backup CIC she picked up the little girl and nodded to an officer who was staring at her. It definitely was against regulation to have a civilian up there, especially a child, but nobody questioned her. Not right now. They were in formation with several other Resurgents. As they prepared to jump one of the other vessels was attacked, turbolaser fire taking out its engine stack. They couldn't wait anylonger to help their comrade.

"Jump!" At the last second she saw one of the other resurgents break formation to attack and defend its sister ship. Just as stars began to stretch on the screens she saw the destruction of two more vessels. She had made it, they would be fine.

They had to be.​