WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus |
Blodmåne |
Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG:
Naedira Darcrath
|
Srina Talon
|
Mercy
|
Barragh Nenn
Gerwald Lechner left the council chamber on Mirial after the discussion had run its course.
The matters before the Sith had been laid out and answered in the way they always were, and each had taken position as the lines between them settled. Nothing in that room required his continued presence once it was clear where they stood.
Beyond it, events had already begun to move.
Reports spread quickly across the Blackwall and along the Parlemian Trade Route, describing Imperial forces withdrawing from positions they had held only days before while other elements turned on one another. What should have been a unified response after Brosi had fractured into something far less controlled.
Gerwald had
already given the order for the Second Legion to move when
Srina Talon
called for it, and they were underway before he ever stood to leave, committed to the advance while the rest of the galaxy was still trying to understand what it was seeing.
He remained only long enough to see the room settle before stepping away.
The Vigfjall came out of hyperspace at the edge of the fighting over Tion, and the shift from hyperspace to open conflict brought a sudden flood of motion and light across the forward viewport.
Imperial ships drifted at uneven angles around the shipyards, some still venting atmosphere in long white streams that trailed into the dark while others burned in sections where hull plating had split. A cruiser near the outer ring turned slowly as its engines failed, its mass carrying it into a cluster of smaller vessels that could not move clear in time.
Closer to the station, the fighting tightened.
Boarding craft cut through the space between ships in steady lines, their engines flaring as they adjusted course toward exposed docking ports and fractured gantries. Turbolaser fire crossed between advancing ships and the outer defenses of the shipyard, lighting the structure in sharp flashes that revealed torn plating and open sections where the battle had already forced its way inside.
Along the far side of one of Tion’s industrial moons new movement broke the pattern.
A fleet emerged from behind the curvature of the moon, using its mass as cover before turning into the engagement. The largest vessel led the formation, its bulk dwarfing the ships that followed, while the rest of the fleet spread around it in a defensive array. Weapons signatures rose across the group as they cleared the moon’s shadow, and a moment later the first missile barrage cut toward the shipyards, targeting the streams of boarding craft moving in from every direction.
The effect was immediate. Several dropships broke apart under the barrage, and others scattered to avoid the incoming fire. The pressure on the shipyards shifted as the new fleet forced its way into the engagement.
Gerwald watched the change without moving.
The bridge of the Vigfjall held steady around him, lit in low red tones broken by the muted glow of control panels and the constant flow of data across them. The hum of the ship ran beneath everything else, deep enough to be felt through the deck. Officers moved within that space without wasted motion, and their voices remained low as orders passed from one station to the next without interruption.
His Legion was already inside the engagement, and their formations held where others had broken as they advanced in measured pushes and secured what they took instead of overrunning it.
The Vigfjall maintained its position along the outer edge of the battle, where movement remained possible and the press of ships had not closed in. The center of the fighting was already crowded, and the arrival of the remnant fleet only tightened it further.
Gerwald’s attention moved across the shipyards as the battle shifted.
Some sections were already being abandoned. Others were still being held under increasing pressure. The new barrage had bought those defenders time, but not enough to change what would follow. There were still places where the outcome had not yet been decided, where resistance remained in pockets that had not yet been broken.
His focus settled there.
A shift moved through the Force that had nothing to do with the battle.
It did not appear on any display, and no sensor marked its arrival, but it carried a weight that did not belong to ships or weapons.
Srina Talon
had entered the system, and her presence spread across the field with a quiet certainty that was untouched by the chaos around it.
Gerwald did not turn from the viewport.
He knew
she was there.
The timing was not lost on him.
Gerwald did not move when
Naedira Darcrath
came to stand beside him, and for a moment nothing passed between them that the room could see.
Her presence settled at his side and held, and it did not fade into the background or allow what had been chosen to be set aside. He did not turn his head, and he did not create space between them.
A slight shift of his hand at his side closed the last inch between them, and his fingers brushed against hers before pausing with quiet certainty that the contact was intentional, even if no one else on the bridge would notice it.
The contact did not linger, but it was enough to acknowledge her presence and answer it without drawing attention.
Srina Talon’s call had taken him from Naedira, and he had answered it knowing exactly what it would cost, and that choice remained what it had always been. Standing beside her now did not change that decision, but the distance it had created did not hold in the same way once she was there at his side.
“You’ve done well here,” he said quietly.
“Shall we remind them what happens when we stand together?”
Around them, the fighting continued to tighten around the shipyards as boarding craft struck in waves while the remnant fleet pressed its attack and sections of the station were forced open under sustained assault.
The Vigfjall held its position, and Gerwald remained at the viewport with Naedira beside him.
He was not alone.
“Your boarding ship is ready along with a contingent of Dreadguard, my lord,” a voice came from behind him.
The Dread Wolf turned his gaze to his she-wolf.
It was time.
