Junction The Spoils | Sith Order/Mandalorian Empire Junction for Apoptosia and Empty Hex

[CT-312]

//: Allies: Eira Dyn Scherezade deWinter Daella | TSO & ME //:
//: Enemies: Barragh Nenn //:
//: Tion //:
//: 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 | Assault Carbine Mk. II //:
//: Secondary Weapons: LO-22S | Electromagnetic Plasma Hand Cannon | Eight Blade Razorline Projector| Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II //:
//: 40|40 Active Mag : 2 Backup Mags x LO-KI/22 Standard Slug Round //:
//: ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: 3 x Kushute Grenades | 6 x Shiva Knifes | S.A.N.D. Powder //:
//: 2 x Ion Grenades|2 x Flash Grenades|2 x Incendiary Grenades|2 x Smoke Grenades //:
//: 3 x S. Seeker Thermal Explosive , 3 x S. Seeker Concussion Explosive //:
//:Arrow head of Absence | Taozin Amulet | LK Spider Slicer Droids | BioMedical Support System//:

//: OBJ 1 - THE HOLDOUTS / (BYOO) //​

The commandeered Imperial shuttle flew through the empty vastness. It moved with restraint rather than speed, the outer hull still marked with Confederation lines. BARCA had restored the transponder codes that were just enough to pass at a glance. Behind, CT-312’s Dûr'ashaarai was close enough to be threatening. Caligo prowled behind the shuttle’s rear quarter. From a distance it sold the illusion well, especially with a Sith fighter behind it. Anyone watching would see a damaged shuttle fleeing for its life while a Sith fighter assaulted it from behind.

Caligo’s temper pressed hard through the bond, scraping against the inside of CT-312’s skull. She could feel the fighter’s irritation and hunger, especially its possessiveness and aggression. It did not like being denied its rider. Nor did it appreciate being leashed and steered from afar by a slicer droid plugged into its system though BARCA’s override. Caligo wanted CT-312 in the cockpit. For the hunt to be real and have its thirst for fire in steel. That rage pushed harder against the Scout this time.

CT-312 stood motionless inside the shuttle. Beneath the helmet, muscles in her jaw tightened as the pressure rolled through the bond. One gloved hand braced lightly against the bulkhead as the craft shuddered around her. CT-312 maintained her composure. It wasn’t the first time Caligo had tested her or tried to nudge her toward something more impulsive. More feral. She let the sensation wash over and pass without yielding to it.

The shuttle and fighter flew towards Tion. Looming further ahead were the shipyards, its vast skeletal structures stretched across orbit. The Sith Order had come with their Mandalorian allies to press into Imperial space while it faltered.

For the first time in a while, CT-312 felt useful again. A familiar hollow feeling began to creep. Quinn should be fine on Voss. Surrounded by Force users and allies. Surrounded by enough power that the Princess would not notice or need one Scout Trooper in the area. Behind the visor, a distant look settled in her eyes.

A sudden series of sharp chimes and warning tones snapped CT-312’s attention back.

[ BARCA ]
[ ALERT… ACTIVE ]
[ IMPERIAL FLEET SIGNATURES… CONFIRMED ]
[ PROXIMITY WARNING… MODERATE ]
[ FEED LINK… ESTABLISHED ]

Video and images from the shuttle’s cameras appeared across her HUD. An Imperial fleet that stood before the shipyards, firing missile barrages at the incoming dropships and pods. Pulse cannons and turbo lasers were fired in sync as squadrons of fighters broke away from the fleet's formation to engage the Sith and Mandalorian forces.

CT-312 pushed away from the bulkhead and stood fully. Her hands moved in routine, double checking her kit. Everything was in order. The mission briefing scrolled across her HUD once more.

<:// Location: Tion //:>
<:// Allies: Mandalorian Empire //:>
<:// Known Hostiles: Remnants of the Imperial Confederation //:>
<:// Primary Objective: Planetary Defense Shield Complex //:>
<:// Secondary Objective: Shipyards //:>

The text lingered for a moment before dimming away. CT-312 turned back toward the others aboard the shuttle. Eira Dyn and Scherezade deWinter were a familiar presence, the third ( Daella ) was new. The Scout’s helmet inclined slightly as she looked across them all. “Eira. Scherezade.” A nod. “It has been some time since we shared a mission.” Her visor turned to the newcomer. “CT-312.” Simply introducing herself. “Welcome to the team. How shall we address you?”

Gloved fingers typed across the holokeypads projected from her vambrace. BARCA forwarded the mission packet to each of them. “Our mission requires a small strike team. Using this borrowed Imperial shuttle makes infiltration easier. Less elegant than I’d prefer, but useful.” CT-312’s helmet tilted toward the forward display. “The shipyard is not our primary target. We are going after Tion’s planetary defense shield.”

At that moment, BARCA cycled through external feed images for the three. The Imperial fleet that had engaged with the Sith and Mandalorian forces. “We currently have an Imperial Confederation fleet in our way—”

The shuttle’s interior suddenly erupted with distress alarms. BARCA filtered the comms traffic. Bursts of static and fragmented Imperial voices carried across nearby channels. Perfect. BARCA cycled through one capital ship after another until CT-312 lifted a hand. “That one.” The feed halted on a massive battlecruiser dominating the formation.

“That oversized command wedge.”

Behind the visor, a small smirk appeared as Caligo’s fury pulsed again through the bond. Hot and eager. The fighter wanted blood. “BARCA, send out distress signals to the Imperial fleet.”

Fresh lines appeared in her HUD.

[ IMPERIAL SHUTTLE #### ]
[ EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION ACTIVE ]
[ HOSTILE SITH FIGHTER IN PURSUIT ]
[ REQUESTING IMMEDIATE DOCKING CLEARANCE ]
[ PRIORITY ROUTING TO NEAREST SECURE HANGAR ]

The false transmission screamed into local channels. CT-312 turned her helmet back toward the squad. The shuttle’s interior lights suddenly switched to red, washing over the camouflaged plates of CT-312’s Halcyon armor. “It would be rude not to say hello to our neighbors.” The words carried a faint hint of amusement. “How about it?” Her gaze moved across the three.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Open!
--------------------------------------------

The shipyards had put up a surprisingly decent fight, all things considered. Even isolated and outnumbered the Imperial defenders had been attempting to ward off boarding efforts with all that they had left at their disposal. They were cornered creatures, digging themselves into their den and baring their fangs. How unfortunate for them that there were far greater predators descending upon them this day, otherwise they might stand a chance.

Darth Strosius unfolded His hands from one another as the boarding shuttle jerked slightly, the telltale sign that their airlock had latched onto one of the shipyard's. The troopers arranged before Him in the shuttle rose from their secured seats and positioned themselves in breaching formation around the door as the sound of plasma cutters digging into the connected station filled the otherwise silent shuttle. The masked man Himself rose from His seat, hanging back as He idly reached into His robes.

He pulled out the gift from His malul, running an armored thumb over the glass container as He admired the flower within for a moment. Not as beautiful as the Neti herself of course but it was a good enough reminder of why He was here. Stealing schematics and data from the shipyard could have been done by Himself without too much issue after all, there was no need to bring a whole contingent of His most armed and armored soldiers just for a retrieval mission.

Because of course, this wasn't just about data. It was personal.

As the cutters fizzled off and the seals set in place with hisses, the airlock on the shuttle flipped from red to green in color to signify that they were ready to breach. When the lead trooper looked back at the Sith Lord for permission, Darth Strosius had already tucked away the sentimental flower in favor of drawing His lightsaber. "Proceed my faithful. And do remember, this is for Brosi." The troopers all nodded an affirmative, checking that their blasters were on the highest lethal setting before the breach was made and they began filtering into the shipyard in hails of indiscriminate blaster fire.

 

[Ronhar Tane]

FLEET ADMIRAL VORIN ZONHILL
TION SHIPYARDS
OBJECTIVE I: THE HOLDOUTS

The MIN Collateral Star tumbled out of hyperspace just outside the perimeter of the Tion Shipyards, followed in tow by a small armada of Mahporeenian warships. At this point, any defenses that the shipyards once had had been completely and utterly destroyed, and the few Imperial ships that weren't already flaming hulks were desperately trying to retreat away from the combined onslaught of the Sith/Mando fleet bearing down on top of them.

It was a particularly pitiful and depressing sight for Fleet Admiral Vorin Zonill, who's mission here today was to ensure that as many Imperial ships as possible were able to escape, or failing that, be destroyed to prevent them from falling into enemy hands. The bridge crew was especially somber when compared to the missions that had embarked upon before. There were no jokes cracked, no idle chatter between officers, or even any playful banter between Zonill and Captain Sellferr. All that permeated throughout the bridge was stunned silence in response to what was unfolding before the Mahporeenians very eyes.

Captain Sellferr was the first to break the silence, to inform Zonill that Barragh Nenn had already engaged Sith and Mandalorian forces with his massive battlecarrier and associated ships. At the very least, it seemed that the Confederation wouldn't go down without putting up a serious fight against the invaders.

"Understood, Captain", Zonill replied with a deadpan expression. "Inform Barragh Nenn that we have come to assist him in his endeavors and that we will not allow Confederation forces to be destroyed so easily".

As Sellferr began transmitting the message, Zonill had his fleet assume battle formation. In addition to the Collateral Star, Zonill had with him a Mon Calamari Destroyer, a pair of Disruptor-class Ion Cannon Carriers and a highly experimental and unusual Nullifier-class Arrestor Cruiser, a vessel that had been designed to prevent the use of force powers during naval combat. This would be as much a test of the Imperial Remnant's new ship as it was a rescue mission, and what better way to see how effective the ship would be than under live fire combat conditions?

For now, Zonill kept his starfighters and support craft in reserve, as he wanted to see what specific threats were lurking around the Tion Shipyards. The same could not be said for the various weapon emplacements that were installed aboard the Collateral Star, and without hesitating any further, Zonill gave the fabled order to his crew.

"OPEN FIRE!"

The Collateral Star began to open up on anything that was brave or foolish enough to get in its way, letting loose a veritable maelstrom of destruction as the Imperial Remnant began to vent its fury in a very public, very obvious way...
​

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Spoiler: Fleet Compistion

• MIN Collateral Star
• 1 Mon Calamari Destroyer
• 2 Disruptor-class Ion Cannon Carriers
• 1 Nullifier-class Arrestor Cruiser

TAGS:
Barragh Nenn
Gerwald Lechner
Srina Talon
Mercy
OPEN

 

[Lazzasha Jovee]

The concourse had become something alive.

Not in the way of cities, or crowds, or the hum of civilization—but in the way of a feeding ground. Movement fractured. Sound lost meaning. The air itself seemed to pulse with panic, with the sharp, intoxicating rhythm of prey realizing too late that it had already been chosen.

And through it all—

Lazzasha watched.

She did not rush forward when the Guards arrived. She did not intervene when Olyssandra's blades carved through the APC in that beautiful, impossible geometry of death. Instead, she slowed, just slightly, her head tilting as she observed.

Admired.

There was a pattern to it. Not chaos. Not mindless slaughter. Something… precise. Elegant. The way the blades moved—responding not to brute force, but to intention, to subtlety—reminded her of something she understood far better than machines.

A well-trained predator.

A faint smile curved her lips. "Mm." Soft. Appreciative.

Behind her, the Mekhisian Nexu gave a low, rumbling growl, its attention flicking between the carnage and the incoming troopers. The Rayijadni were already restless, pacing in tightening arcs, their bodies coiled with restrained violence. Even the Maelridae seemed to lean forward into the moment, as if the very air tasted richer now.

Lazzasha exhaled slowly. Then she lifted her hand. The Force slipped outward—not as command, but as alignment. Instinct sharpened. Fear scent clarified. Targets sorted. "Spread," she murmured.

The effect was immediate. The three Rayijadni Nexu broke first, darting past one another in fluid, practiced motion before veering toward the disembarking troopers. One leapt high, clearing the line of fire entirely before descending into the rear ranks. Another cut low, forcing the Guards to split their formation. The third moved wide, circling—herding.

The Maelridae vanished from sight entirely. Not gone. Just… elsewhere. The Mekhisian Nexu remained at her side for a moment longer—waiting. Always waiting.

Then, with a subtle flick of her fingers, Lazzasha sent it forward—not into the chaos, but toward the strongest cluster of resistance. It moved like inevitability given form.

Only then did her attention shift.

The portal.

The woman.

Amni's voice cut through the carnage with an almost offensive brightness.

Lazzasha's gaze slid toward her, expression flattening—not anger, not surprise. Something colder. Measured.

Amusement, perhaps.

"Invitations?" she echoed softly, her voice carrying just enough to reach. "How considerate."

A beat.

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the bodies strewn across the concourse.

"We prefer to hunt without them."

The Force surged. Lazzasha felt it before she saw it—the compression of air, the violent displacement rushing toward them. Unlike Olyssandra, she did not dance through it.

She gave ground. One step. Then another—controlled, deliberate—her body angling as the wave struck, boots scraping slightly against the blood-slick stone as she absorbed and redirected the force of it rather than meeting it head-on. Her coat snapped sharply in the wake, hair shifting with the passing pressure. Then stillness.

Her eyes lifted. Focused. Olyssandra moved—beautifully, as expected—her blades already answering in a blur of lethal intent. Lazzasha did not interrupt. Not yet. Instead, she smiled again—this time sharper.

"Of course." Her voice lowered, almost to a whisper. "Let's see how you handle mine." Her hand dropped.

The command rippled outward. The Rayijadni shifted targets instantly, breaking from the troopers just enough to create disruption before snapping back in, forcing the Guards into disarray. The Maelridae reappeared behind a firing line, dragging one soldier screaming into darkness as the others faltered. The Mekhisian Nexu crashed into the center of the formation with brutal precision, shattering cohesion entirely.

Chaos—refined. Controlled. Given teeth.

Only then did Lazzasha step forward. Her right hand flicked, and with a sharp, serpentine hiss, her lightwhip ignited—crimson energy lashing into existence, its length coiling and uncoiling with a life of its own. In her left, the tonfa saber followed—a shorter, more controlled blade, its orientation shifting her stance into something closer, more intimate. More dangerous.

She advanced—not rushing, not reckless—each step measured as her beasts continued their work around her. Her gaze never left Amni.

"Try not to die too quickly," she said, voice smooth, almost conversational. "You interrupted something beautiful." The whip cracked once in the air. A warning. Or a promise.

Location: Neyrix, Lianna City, Lianna • Objective: Create terror on the way to the archives • Company: Olyssandra | Maelridae | Rayijadni Nexu (x3) | Mekhisian Nexu • Opposition: Amni Kazda

Load Out:​

Armor: Hunting outfit
Weapons: Velkyn Lash - whip
"Bloodfang" - Warblade
"Gravehook" - Tonfa-saber

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
LIANNA, FORMER IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
OBJECTIVE II: DELENDA EST

It had taken scarcely 10 minutes since Ronhar had landed for him to receive the worst news he was going to receive for this entire mission. Through their strafing runs and rocket barrages, the gunships had confirmed his presence among the chaos occurring on the ground.

Darth Carnifex was here, and it didn't a genius to figure out what exactly he was after.

Worst still, the gunships had confirmed a small cadre of Sith Warriors with him, alongside what appeared to be some sort of Mandalorian advisor. It was a formidable strike group for anyone to face, especially considering the overwhelming bombardment that the planet had gone through and the fact that most Imperial forces had already been killed or evacuated. Still, the planet was under Imperial control, at least nominally, and this time they were fighting on home territory, meaning that Ronhar knew the lay of the land far better than Carnifex could, unless he somehow had insider information or some locals working under him.

Considering the fact that the Sith bombardment had made large areas of Lianna essentially intraversable, there were only a limited number of routes that Carnifex could take to get to the archives, unless he changed his mind and went by air. Ronhar didn't think he would though, based on all the Mahporeenian ships still contesting the planet's airspace. Plus, Carnifex would probably prefer a more "personal" touch toward any fighting still left to be had. If there was one thing Ronhar could count on, it was Sith ego and need to be at the forefront of any violence that was occurring.

That meant that Carnifex was likely to pass by one of the few remaining junctions that lead to the archives, though "remaining" was a bit of a stretch considering just how badly damaged the area had been. That could be to Ronhar's advantage, with all the rubble and bombed out buildings providing spots for him to hide his men in, and so Ronhar dutifully traveled onward, eager to get a head start on his Sith foes.

When he arrived at the junction, Ronhar was surprised to see just how many buildings were still intact, interspersed with ones that had completely collapsed or been reduced to little more than massive craters spread across the ground. The buildings still intact were the result of Carnifex's new weapon, though Ronhar couldn't have known that quite yet. Regardless, the area around him provided him with plenty of opportunities to set up an ambush, and his men quickly got to work, finding spots to conceal themselves in as they activated their "Yugiri" Capture Net for Carnifex and his forces. If they were lucky, they might be able to ensure one or two of them before the Sith realized what was going on, though knowing Carnifex, he would probably be aware of the ambush long before Ronhar and his men even knew they were coming.

Each man, except for the Junkyard Knight, activated their "Kitetsu" Force Energy Cyclers as Ronhar and the Knight stood out in the open, looking to draw in Carnifex's soldiers as the rest of his men hid nearby, waiting for the right moment to fire their nets and spring their attack. Even without actually using any force powers, the energy cyclers were already drawing off the force energy of the Junkyard Knight, helping to clam each man's nerves and steel their resolves for the fighting that was to come.

Now all they had to do was wait: wait for Darth Carnifex , wait for his Mandalorian advisor Mia Monroe , and wait for even the slightest sign that they might receive reinforcements to help them in the upcoming battle. Ronhar had sent an encrypted message to Teckla Tane informing her of his plan and coordinates, and hopefully she would be able to get to him before Carnifex did.

That was the operative term, of course. Hopefully. These days, Ronhar didn't really have much hope for the future. But that was what he was fighting for: the future of his planet, the future of Prystill Oasay , and naturally, his own future.

He had too, if the Imperial Remnant was to survive the coming storm of Sith and Mandalorians...
​

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Spoiler: Ronhar's Loadout

• Burnblade
• Ion Slicer Vibroknife
• Model 216 "Big Game Hunter"
• Mahporeem Acid Rifle
• Prototype Sonic Pistol
• Rhydonium Grenades
• Mk II Viral Bombs
• Wampa-Pattern Industrial Exoskeleton
• "Kitetsu" Force Energy Cycler
• Yugiri" Capture Nets
• Mk 45 Protective Vest
• Carapace Knitters
• ABC - Aerosolized Bacta Cannisters

TAGS:
Darth Carnifex
Teckla Tane
Mia Monroe
OPEN

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Aerik Lechner //: Lysander von Ascania //: Kaelen Voss //:
//: Adelle Bastiel //: Aselia Verd //: Vytal Noctura //:
//: Irina Jesart //:
//: Attire //:

Awareness was something Quinn never lacked. Her eyes flickered between the faces surrounding her, and she let out a gentle exhale. A necessary attempt at finding herself. The room suddenly felt smaller as she did her best to retain her focus on the Acolyte and the Covenant liaison.

To her great dismay, her hand wasn't taken for a handshake; instead, like most nobles and men of power, she was treated with delicacy. She watched as Lysander took the time to bring his hand gently under hers, caring for it in a way that gripped her throat. The moment felt like an eternity, but her face never conveyed her discomfort.

The Queen of Eshan continued to smile, her shoulders relaxed as she accepted the gentleness from the noble. She laughed at his comment, the hand now finding its place over her lips. An easy excuse to distance herself from the unfamiliar.

Between Lysander and Kaelen, Quinn felt her mind swimming. The Acolyte's presence flared with each thought that passed his mind. Quinn wondered if this would turn into a full discussion, one that she was happy to have. He was here to learn beyond the roughness and the survival of the academy. The skills that Quinn held weren't taught by the academy professors; to survive there was different from surviving the world they stood in now.

Another had joined them, one that Quinn had recently learned to find comfort in. Aerik was familiar; he had shown himself to be different and yearned to understand her. Despite the churn of his own affections towards her, he never forced them upon her — they were there, but she was never in debt to him.

Quinn's smile softened the moment Aerik had addressed her. She could feel the weak wall he had built between them, a safe assumption on his part. Quinn stepped closer to her former student, her arm looping under his. Her touch conveyed enough through unspoken language that she sought comfort and grounding. Aerik wasn't as versed as a native or fluent Echani, but he knew enough…

He knew her well enough.

"Aerik, I'm glad you joined us." Quinn let the tenderness in her smile linger before looking to Kaelen.

"This is Kaelen Voss, he's a current student with Jutrand," She looked to Kaelen and Lysander. "Aerik was one of my students."

"And has become one of my close confidants. So if there's anything you need from me, you can always reach out to him."

Her attention returned to the conversation on the bike and the hypergates. She wasn't aware that the Covenant had repaired or reestablished the link between them. Hoth had always seemed to be a problem.

"That's good news. I wasn't aware that the hypergates had been reestablished. I know at times the Alliance preferred them to be unlinked when their territory was larger…" she gave a little cheeky smirk. "Or existing."

She mused, feeling better as she leaned against Aerik. He had been a blessing, though she wondered if he even realized it. Another thought that he didn't assume she was using him… like she had before.

"We will have to speak more on the bike, there is someone I have in mind who would enjoy a wonderful craft similar to."

Her eyes trailed along the direction of Lysander's as he called out to another group. She recognized most of them and gave both Adelle and Aselia a smile… one that hopefully conveyed, please come over. She didn't let her eyes linger long as she cleared her throat.

"How are the academies in the Covenant? From what I understand, there was one on Deservo. Is it still established, or have you moved all operations to the core?" She had been curious, since Deservo was gifted to the Covenant in their infancy, from the Councilor herself.

She looked back towards Kaelen for a moment, "If it's still there, I think Kaelen could give your students a run for their money, don't you think Acolyte?"

 

[Aerik Lechner]

Wearing: This | Weapons: Lightsaber | Knife
TAG: Quinn Varanin | Kaelen Voss | Lysander von Ascania | Irina Jesart​

The small barrier which Aerik had raised between himself and Quinn was more a necessity of the environment than anything born from her warning. The pup had already determined he did not care if she considered herself dangerous to him. Aerik denied that reality, even though there was truth to it. She was dangerous to everyone. The part of her nature he did not know about made her a ticking time bomb. It also made her extremely powerful when she chose to put her skill on display.

When her arm looped through his, the familiarity of her presence settled where it belonged. It felt natural for them to be side by side, not because Aerik wanted it, but because they both understood that no matter how high he climbed, he would always serve the whims and wishes of his Echani Queen.

The room around them carried a different kind of pressure than the battlefield. Polished stone floors reflected the low, warm light of its source from the ceiling above, and the quiet hum of conversation filled the space without ever fully rising. Every movement was measured here, controlled, each step and gesture observed whether they were acknowledged or not.

His head canted toward those she introduced him to. Lysander von Ascania was a familiar face, though they had never formally met. His role in several recent battles which aided the Sith Order had not gone unnoticed, and as the apprentice to Darth Prazutis , Aerik made it his point to keep an eye on those whose deeds drew attention.

@Kaelan Voss was new. Quinn introduced him as her student and an Acolyte. He was at Jutrand. They had their training in common. It seemed several among the powerful Sith and even the Dark Council were selecting apprentices from the academy. A nod of respect was given to the Echani, though because of his training, Aerik picked up something in his posture. He seemed on edge. It appeared Aerik was not the only one uncomfortable in the setting they found themselves in.

His head turned at the familiar pull he felt in the room. Quinn Varanin would see the scar as it caught the light just so. The cut had cauterized when the wolf took over. No amount of bacta would ever cause it to fade, and there was no mistaking where it sat. It was where the Echani had traced his jaw.

Irina Jesart was present, and her dress was reminiscent of the one she wore after their first defense of Brosi. Aerik’s heartbeat quickened.

He smiled slightly as the memory of their last meeting played in his mind. While they had their heated moments facing the truth of how Aerik had nearly killed her on Brosi, he chose to hold onto the way they had reconciled. The forced honesty had made them confront other truths the pup had been avoiding. He was still unsure of himself in many things, but at least Aerik had learned to name what he felt for the ebony-skinned woman.

Another memory came to mind. The last time Quinn and Irina were in the same room together, it had not ended well.

Aerik cursed silently. Quinn knew him well enough that she would sense it immediately. While she had taught him the subtleties of the Echani Arts, he would never fully mask his emotions from her. His body still betrayed him in ways Quinn would always recognize because she had been his teacher.. The pup needed them to find a way to coexist. His position had already been made clear. They were all his pack. It would take time, but Aerik hoped the day would come when Irina and Quinn would reconcile.

“Kaelan… whatever stories you hear about me being some monster that terrorizes the garden maze under a full moon are emphatically untrue. I was in that maze every night.”

Aerik chuckled. He knew the rumors the other students had passed among themselves before he graduated. They had put a target on his back after he killed the Jedi and secured a lightsaber when their class had been hunted. In truth, he was checking to see if the story was still being told.

“If you need anything, let me know. Perhaps I could even secure my father as an additional sponsor.”

His attention turned to Lysander.

“I am also curious about the academies the Covenant has put together. Jutrand was a unique experience, rather cutthroat for what it was.”

Aerik placed his free hand where Quinn’s hand rested in the crook of his elbow. It was not an intimate gesture, but rather it was an acknowledgment of what she was asking of him. She was asking him to be her shield and anchor for the moment, even if everything in him resisted the politics that surrounded Sith relations. Dealing with the Voss was one thing. Dealing with other Sith was another. One misstep and the room would ignite.

That was why his gaze returned to Irina. This time he did not look away. He held it until her eyes met his. She would see the plea there. Other than Quinn, if there was anyone in the room who understood that Aerik was not built for this, it was her. No matter the lessons his mother Naedira Darcrath had instilled in him regarding diplomacy, he felt confined by it.

He leaned in close so only Quinn would hear him.

“That dress is not fair.”

 

[Kaelen Voss]

OBJECTIVE III

The Voss-Ka Welcoming Party​

Tag: Quinn Varanin Lysander von Ascania Aerik Lechner
​

Kaelen didn't speak immediately after the introductions.


He gave a slight nod, first to Lysander, then to Aerik, His posture remained loose as they spoke, but there was a quiet confidence in the way he held himself, like he already knew where he stood in the room.

"Lysander. Aerik." "its nice to meet you both," noticing how Quinn held onto Aerik's arm, "Aerik was one of my students. and one of my close confidants" she said, Kaelen eyes looked back and forth between them when she said that.

"I see." he replied to her before Aerik spoke, his voice laying on thick that he was assuming there was something going on between the two

Then Aerik spoke,
"That's you?!" he replied to him, his voice filled with genuine surprise, he had heard stories around the academy but he didn't actually expect to meet him, "I assumed you would be more way more hairy from the stories I've heard." he said with a quiet laugh,

When he said about how he may be able to secure another sponsorship he politely smiled and replied while Quinn and Lysander spoke about bikes, "I'd have to know more before accepting, It would be unwise to ally myself with someone I don't know, but I appreciate the offer nonetheless."

When the topic switched to the Sith academies within the Sith Covenan his demeanor switched, Kaelen laughed arrogantly when Quinn spoke, "I'd be Interesting seeing how the students compare." "If you can even say that." a sly smile filling his face. His eyes shifting over to the Mandalorians, seeing if they would come over.

 

[Sidonia]

O B J E C T I V E 2​

Tag: Yusha​

​

By the time the transport carved its path toward the surface, she was already standing. The others aboard shifted with the anxious energy of those who understood the clock was ticking. Sidonia did not share it. Time did not press on her; it bent, subtly, around her decisions.​

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The ramp lowered with a hiss and heat greeted them first. Then the smell; the smell of burned polymer and something that went far beneath the surface. It was something that she couldn't identify, though she was not really in a hurry to identify.​

​

Her heels met the scorched duracrete with a soft, deliberate cadence, each step measured as if the world had not fractured around her. Around them, the skeletal remains of a commercial district loomed; facades peeled open, interiors exposed like wounds. Whatever orbital restraint had been promised, it had not extended cleanly to the edges.​

​

Imperfection left opportunity.​

​

Sidonia’s gaze drifted. There was a collapsed transit line., a half-collapsed data tower, its upper levels sheared cleanly, but its lower infrastructure intact. Power still flickered somewhere beneath the ruin; she could see it in the intermittent glow pulsing behind fractured transparisteel. Without looking back, she spoke, her voice quiet; yet it carried, threading cleanly through the crackle of distant fires.​

​

“Not the obvious targets. Everyone will be going for those..." Only then did she move again, angling not toward the towering corporate spires spared from bombardment, but toward the damaged data structure sinking into the street’s edge. “There’s still a system running beneath this district." she continued, more to the air than anyone in particular. Her steps slowed near the fractured entrance; half-sealed by debris, the interior beyond dark except for that faint, intermittent pulse deeper within.​

​

Then, finally, her head turned; just slightly; toward the presence she had already accounted for long before he ever revealed himself.​

​

“Watching won’t tell you what they tried to hide,” she said calmly, eyes settling somewhere just off-center, as if addressing a shadow rather than a man. “And whatever they buried down there…I can imagine that they'd expect someone like you to come looking.” She stepped forward then, into the dark without waiting to see if he would follow.​

​

 

[Niijima Izumi]

Izumi did not enter with the same weight as the others.

Where Itzhal’s steps claimed the space and Avast’s presence filled it with restless motion, hers slipped into the ruin like something half-remembered; in the shadows. She rather wanted to keep it that way, staying true to her innate identity as a samurai. Despite having ties with the Mandalorian Empire, Izumi had known all her life that she was to be a samurai, and that was what she was going to die being, regardless of allegiance. Adorning her classic straw hat that covered most of her head and face, she was wearing her samurai attire again, twin katanas strapped under a dark crimson and black obi, tightly sheathed to her waist.

She had been asked to come here, for reasons not very known to her personally. But following orders she was quite fond and accustomed to doing. Izumi understood that because the Mandalorians had technically saved her life and provided refuge, she was indebted to them. And so, she asked no questions when she was given the assignment. The woman merely arrived, looking nothing like the others around her. The smell of something unfamiliar to her was first to reach her nostrils. It was the smell of ashes...that she had plenty experience with.

It was something deeper....

Looking around, she also nodded in the direction of Itzhal, whom she had met once before. Avaste, on the other hand, was a stranger. Underneath the large straw hat, Izumi could barely see anything of the woman, other than her boots. But what she couldn't see, she made up for in hearing, as Avaste then asked about some sort of gossip. Perhaps she was trying to make conversation. "I have no idea..." she said softly, her tone even. Izumi was not interested in gossip, although this was perhaps due to her not knowing much to add into the conversation. Instead, she would allow Itzhal to fill them both in if he so chose to.

While she was trying to figure out the scent's origin. she stilled near the threshold, one hand resting lightly against the fractured frame of the doorway. Her gaze lifted, sweeping the interior in silence. The bodies registered in her vision, although like Avast, she didn't really pay them much mind beyond silently giving them a prayer in hopes they find life free from whatever pains they had had to experience here.

What did hold her attention were the patterns.

Scorch marks that didn’t align with orbital bombardment alone. Defensive fire from inside. She moved then, stepping further into the hall, boots finding paths through debris without needing to look down. Her posture remained composed, but there was a subtle tightness in her shoulders now, something coiled just beneath the surface. When she spoke again, her tone hadn’t changed; but something beneath it had sharpened, like glass under silk.

“…We’re not alone in here.”

Izumi took a step back, angling herself so both Itzhal and Avast fell within her peripheral awareness. She wasn't sure if what she had sensed was right, and was hoping the two of them could provide acknowledgement of some sort while her eyes peeled on their surroundings, her left hand raised and resting lightly on one of her dual swords.
​

Itzhal Volkihar // Avast Verd​

 

[Na Ri]

The question lingered between them, fragile in a way the rest of the world was not.

Another tremor rolled through the facility, deeper this time. The lights overhead flickered violently, casting the corridor into brief, stuttering darkness before settling once more into a dim, pulsing red. Somewhere far below, something heavy collapsed with a distant, final groan.

Her breath hitched, the air was worsening.

She could feel it now; settling into her lungs like something alive, something unwelcome. The next cough came quicker, harsher than the last. It tore through her before she could fully suppress it, her body folding slightly inward as she pressed the cloth tightly to her mouth.

For a moment, she didn’t move, or perhaps couldn't. She also didn't speak, though it was more obvious now that she couldn't. When it passed, she remained still a second longer than necessary, steadying herself against the wall with quiet care. Her fingers trembled faintly before stilling, the weakness smoothed over as if it had never been there at all.

Only then did she lift her gaze back to him. "I’m fine,” she said softly. Even Na Ri could tell that what she said wasn’t convincing. Her eyes lingered on him now, more directly than before; taking in the way he held himself, the urgency in his stance, the way pain had become something secondary to whatever was driving him forward.

“The records room…” she repeated, quieter.

Her gaze shifted briefly toward the stairwell, where the structure groaned again in protest. The deeper levels were failing. Whatever power remained would not last long.

Then, back to him.

“There may still be survivors on those levels,” she added, almost as an afterthought. Not a contradiction. Not a challenge. Just something placed beside his intent, rather than against it. Na Ri stepped forward.

This time, she closed the distance until she was near enough that the unstable light caught the subtle strain in her expression, the faint pallor beneath it. Her gaze dropped briefly to the makeshift bandage he had tied, then lifted again.

“I can help you walk,” she offered. “Just until we reach the lower levels.”

The building shuddered again, more violently than before. The stairwell let out a sharp metallic crack, as though something within its frame had just given way.

Na Ri didn’t look away this time.

“We won’t have long,” she said, more to herself than to him.

Prisoner #36929​

 

[Irina Jesart]

Wearing: XXX
Tags Direct: Lysander von Ascania Quinn Varanin Kaelen Voss Aerik Lechner
Nearby: Adelle Bastiel Vytal Noctura

Irina felt Aeriks’s eyes on her but did not lift hers to meet them immediately, even if the smile on her face warmed just a little under his gaze. Only when the Voss she was talking to shifted his own attention to one of his own did she move her dark eyes to meet the golden hue watching her, the silent plea heard. Her eyes flicked to Quinn, then down to where she had her arm hooked through his, his hand resting neatly over hers.

Once upon a time, the mere idea of another woman touching Aerik would have sent her into a jealous rage, but Brosi had changed everything. She shifted her attention back to the Voss, neatly excusing herself before meandering over to the group, catching the tail end of the conversation regarding the students of the Covenant.

She slid in neatly beside Lysander, the gold accents of her dress catching in the light as she did. “Speaking from experience, I would be bold enough to say that the students of the Covenant’s Academy would be more than a match for the students of our own.”

Her eyes moved to meet Quinn’s briefly, her jaw tightening slightly before she bowed her head. “Councillor. I do hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

Her eyes moved to Aerik, her expression softening as she inclined her head politely. “Aerik.”

Only then did she turn her attention fully to Lysander and Kaelen. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” She extended a hand to Lysander first, attempting to draw his attention so that Aerik could get the breathing space he needed, unaware of the discomfort of the Echani clinging to his arm.

 

[Daella]

Location: Commandeered Imperial Shuttle - Tion High Orbit
Dialogue Legend: <<Telepathy>> │ “Verbal”
Thread Objective: The Holdouts
Mission Objective:

• Disable the planetary shield complex.
• Capture or disable the Tion shipyards.

Allies: CT-312 Eira Dyn Scherezade deWinter
Enemies: Barragh Nenn

Daella had been meditating for some time, silky white hair levitating in gentle waves above her shoulders as her eyelids twitched. All the while, her halo-shaped cranial horn pulsed with residual Dark Side energy, luminescence dancing along its iridescent surface. Her meditation was fixed upon the ongoing space battle, her farsight connection scanning for any potential hazards, whether they be intentional or incidental, that risked bringing the mission to a premature conclusion. And with this being her first independent assignment, that was an outcome the small-statured seer very much intended to avoid.

She opened her eyes when the team’s leader—CT-312—spoke up and requested her name. Daella blinked then, her nose wrinkling with a flicker of annoyance. Was the clone trooper asking for her name? How did she not know it already? The Kainate should have told the team in advance that her visions were invaluable. Why then, did they not already know who she was, and how essential she would be to the mission’s success?

Her features quickly smoothed back to their usual composure, but her impatience, barely restrained, was evident in her tone.

“Daella,” she replied. And you all would do well to remember it, came the unspoken implication.

From there, Daella resumed her meditation, albeit with diminished focus so that she could listen to the impromptu briefing. Their mission was to disable the planetary shield complex, an objective so audacious that achieving it with such a small team, in her view, required her presence. They would need her to guide them on the optimal path forward, or else risk stumbling blindly into a trap!

In that, Daella cocked her head to the side when the feed from the clone trooper’s BARCA suddenly appeared in her contact lenses’ HUD, which she had linked with via the unification software in her neck piece.

“If our objective is the planetary shield, what is our aim in—” Daella paused when the shuttle’s interior lights turned crimson, bathing her lilac-hued features in a blood-red glow. “Boarding their flagship?” She finished.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Oracular Veil
  
  • Miscellaneous Equipment
    
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
    • UL-14 “Virtus” Underlay - Nanotech Version: Inactive
• Qazûr-Pattern Soulpistol Mk. I
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • Standard Blaster Power Cell (6)
    • Tibanna Gas Cartridge (6)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
• FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II - Left Forearm
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (4)
• Supernal Infusion

 

[Barragh Nenn]

TION
The Eye of Helvede
Objective 1 - Assist the Remnants
Allies: Ronhar Tane | Remnant Forces
Enemies: CT-312 | Daella | Gerwald Lechner | Sith/Mandalorians​

---

From viewports on the bridge of the Eye of Helvede observers could watch as lances of turbolaser fire blinked in and out of existence, missiles become star bursts that faded back into nothingness and starfighters appearing as pin pricks screamed across the black.

Officers directed the bridge crew, some of them standing over consoles and others looking down on subordinates from the command deck.

The Captain of the Command Carrier relayed everything back and forth between the Officers and the Imperial Hand who used various holo emitters to flicker in and out of existence. He vanished then reappeared on a whim, moving seamlessly. Eventually he came to life on the original emitter the Captain had met him on overlooking the command deck.

At the Comms an Officer seemed perplexed but was soon reporting up that...

"We have incoming! Lambda B Class Shuttle with a Sith Fighter in pursuit."​

...it prompted a response from the Captain would order...

"Grant them immediate access! Destroy that fi---"​

...but another voice, the Umbarans cut him off...

"Hold."

...it was voice of command, even if he were not the commander here it would have caused everyone on the bridge to pause. Even as a hologram his voice resounded with the force and would wash over the shell of men's minds like waves prompting them to give him their attention or hesitate. Its effect was finite, the bridge crew barely registered it but the Captain could not finish his sentence...

"Reroute them to a secondary hanger. Ensure a squad is there to meet them."

...the Captain finally found his words again and would reply while also calling out to others on the bridge...

"Yes lord, rerouting! Send a squad of troopers to meet them!"​

---

The Eye of Helvede had a total of three massive hangar bays, the primary which was centrally located and two secondary bays which were smaller but no less impressive on either side of the massive ship.

Aside from crew already present in the Hangar Bay a squad of ten (10) Stormtroopers lead by a sergeant were tasked to meet the shuttle when it landed.

In space a trio of TIE Fighters would target the lone Sith Fighter pursuing the Shuttle for destruction ensuring its safety.

---

The Bridge was abuzz with more news as well after the Maphoreem contingent arrived in the space around Tion.

As the Umbaran was made aware of their presence he would have nodded once and said...

"Very good. We must thank our Maphoreem allies. Inform them that at present our primary targets are the dropships and pods attempting to assail the shipyards. We will stem the tide and create an area of supremacy for Remnant forces on the shipyards to rally around or effect their retreat before they are overrun."

​

 

[Aselia Verd]

Wearing: [X]

Aselia had been quiet on the walk in. There was a steadiness to her, something measured beneath the surface as she took in the approach to the banquet hall carved into the living stone of Voss-Ka. The architecture was unlike that of Sundari, curved walls and high arches flowing together in that distinctly Voss way, everything deliberate and evoking calm. Even the air carried it.

Sith and Mandalorians under one roof wasn't as strange as it once would have been, not anymore. House Talon and House Verd had been bound together since she was a small child. It was a covenant forged by two families; House Talon, in fact, was a family in every way, though they did not share blood.

Aselia decided against the armor for the evening, black and deep crimson layered cleanly as a long coat fell behind her, gold accents catching the ambient light from the Voss lanterns. It was formal, but not soft. Her gaze moved ahead of them, then briefly to Adelle as she adjusted her tabard. A small smile touched her lips as she leaned over slightly. "Nervous? You'll be fine."

When Adelle leaned in and spoke, Aselia's attention shifted fully to her. There was the faintest flicker of amusement at the comment, but it didn't quite reach her eyes this time.

"Then you might want to prepare yourself," she said quietly, her voice low enough to stay between them as they slowed just short of the doors. She let that sit for a moment, her gaze flicking briefly to the carved doors ahead, to the subtle presence beyond them the Sith already gathered in the room beyond.

Then, just as directly, "Aether's not here." Her eyes returned to Adelle, "He's at the front. Cleaning up the trash." A smile touched her lips as she looked at Adelle, slipping a hand up to her back to reinforce her words. "You've got this, Aether trusts you, and so do I." There was no false flattery nor any attempt to soften or sharpen the truth. Still, there was a quiet awareness beneath it, an understanding of what that meant walking into a room like this without him, without the one person who usually carried that presence in spaces like this.

"So it's us," Aselia continued, tone steady. "And whoever else answered the invitation." Aselia withdrew her hand as the doors opened and walked in at Adelle's side.

TAG: Adelle Bastiel
Indirect TAG: Quinn Varanin Lysander von Ascania Kaelen Voss Aerik Lechner
​

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Lianna, Outer Rim Territories
| Objective | II - Delenda Est - Locate the Data Vault

Thermal scarring had damaged the control panel, with faint fracture lines caught in the caress of charred ashes that clung to the transparisteel surface of the monitor and slipped through the gaps in the metal plates. His elbow pressed against the wooden shelf, better to angle the data-spike that shifted through the debris, to access the small access point—barely visible, underneath the carpet of blackened soot that had to be carefully extracted—as the slender probe inserted inside.

Data streams began to flow, trickling in like a stumbling beast awakening from hibernation. Numbers and symbols flashed in a vague haze of calculations, already uploaded by the virtual intelligence prescribed to the device—his task to deliver, rather than open the door personally. Itzhal waited, a picture of calm, bowed over the bookshelf's form as the program continued to load.

Cold blue eyes prowled over the display, searching for distortions in the pattern as an assortment of gentle beeps coincided with the soft click of the locking rings. In the relative quiet, the sound echoed across the main floor, bouncing off the cracked podiums and the high-arching ceiling that ended in an array of glass-planes, shattered by the fire and brimstone that had consumed the world outside.

Two seconds later, the silence descended upon the world once again. A reverent hush for the bodies that surrounded them, almost tranquil, in this world of stillness. His fingers lingered on the threshold of the door, a single pause, as the world held its breath in anticipation of the screeching awakening they all knew was coming.

Then, his com-link activated, "So, what's the gossip movin' round in the clans eh? Anythin' interestin'?"

Another lock disengaged with a soft, satisfying click, followed by the muted sound of metal twisting smoothly against the frame. Itzhal barely registered the sound; instead, his attention traced back towards his fellow Mandalorians and the question that fluttered in the air, awaiting one to pick it up, if only they wished to or, more accurately, had the ability to.

He chuckled, a slight raise of his shoulders the only sign of the sound, muffled by his Buy'ce, before he switched to the comm channel. "Apologies, I would generally say that you've been assigned to the wrong task force if you're inclined to hunt for gossip."

He paused then, an errant thought, as the final trill of the data-spike signalled the opened lock, "Unless you wish to hear the latest betting pool for the Mand'alor and his potential lady love has once again risen, due to his repeated failure to establish a further date—on a completely unrelated matter, certain individuals have been informed they cannot 'inform the target of his feelings', unless they wish to forfeit their bet."

The bookcase ground against the floor, previously inch-perfect mechanisms, distorted by the heat and pressure that had reduced the room to ruin, as Itzhal stepped back with a final comment: "I'm half tempted to make a statement, regardless."

Slowly, he drew his pistols.

"...we're not alone in here."

Oath and Honour settled into his hands, just as surely as his allies waited at his back.

"No, I don't imagine we are."

Then he stepped forward, a whisper of a step that carried him into the cold embrace of the corridor—an expanse of polished metal that gleamed under harsh fluorescent lights. The walls, a rigid grey, were adorned with ventilation ducts and sharp-cut boarding slats that overlooked their arrival. The bodies, sealed in the stark white of Imperial Stormtroopers, were covered in the harsh sweeping lines of what could only be a lightsaber.

"I have a feeling that will be their problem soon enough."

Tags: Avast Verd Niijima Izumi​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Quinn Varanin Aerik Lechner Kaelen Voss Irina Jesart
Nearby: Adelle Bastiel Aselia Verd Vytal Noctura​

The room itself was a little quieter than he anticipated; not that he ever entered social spaces with expectations, but he assumed there would be more bodies.. more voices. But meeting others within the Order was the kind of currency he valued deeply, and it reminded him where his roots lay. The Kor'ethyr Academy on Korriban sculpted his architecture of both mind and body. The red dust would forever cling to parts of his soul. Sometimes, there was still a phantom taste of it at the back of his throat..

"They were reconstructed," he said, answering Quinn's earlier question. "After recent talks with Lord Carnifex." A mutual vision that would not be elaborated immediately. The galaxy's map was shifting faster than most could track. At the mention of another bike project, one corner of his mouth softened. There was something satisfying about creation, whether forging new machines or new empires. Time permitting, he wasn't opposed to the idea.

"The academy on Deservo was relocated. Its operations were consolidated on Coruscant. We also maintain academies on Thrantin and Pelagon now."

A few seconds stretched as Aerik's query sat between them. His palm opened in a small gesture, before dropping. "From my understanding, Jutrand builds on hierarchy. The Covenant's academies.." a low hum escaped him, "they cultivate more of a lateral pressure with encouraging rivalry. Survival belongs to the adaptable. Those who can't evolve simply get left behind.."

That was putting it lightly, and considering the dichotomy, he found neither approach superior; which was partially because the ideological differences between doctrines within the Order left a bitter taste. He'd seen too much in‑fighting to bother choosing a side.

"Just different paths to the same destination, I suspect. Though perhaps the journey shapes us more than we care to admit."

His focus shifted to Kaelen, recognizing that familiar hunger. "Confidence is a useful blade. I do know a few apprentices who'd be delighted to sharpen it for you. Would that interest you, perhaps?" Varin Mortifer and Acier Moonbound were the first to come to mind.

Another loomed into view, and the blonde turned halfway, accepting the proffered hand, while his gaze assessed beyond appearance. "Lysander. The honor falls on me," offered calmly, releasing the fingers from his grasp. "This comparative experience you mention.. you've piqued my curiosity. Go on." As one of the instructors, most names and faces from the Covenant's academies were committed to memory; if she spoke of someone from there, he would know.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

"Evolution tis a scientific process as I understand it." Vytal Noctura had glided into orbit of the gaggle of Sith-alignment members as much a specter as her pale countenance suggested. "One of structured pursuits and instruction. Tis the manner of education these 'academies' provide?"

Obviously Lysander von Ascania 's description of the Sith method of indoctrination had attracted attention. Their ilk was not looked upon favorably by the Witch. However -- and it was a reluctant thought -- there was the barest of chances they weren't as backwards as she believed. If she were forced to share a room with their kind, why not take the opportunity to learn about them?

"I once over saw a network of educational institutions in another part of the galaxy. I couldn't help but overhear." Which was true, but not exactly the reason why the woman from Dathomir couldn't help herself. "What subjects do the academies emphasize?"

Lysander von Ascania | Quinn Varanin | Aerik Lechner | Kaelen Voss | Irina Jesart
Adelle Bastiel​

 

[Neryn Ka]

Objective II: Delenda Est
Equipment: Lightsaber / Sidearm / Dagger
Tags: OPEN
​

Neryn's meanderings gradually carried him out of Lianna City's residential districts. The vessels overhead were intensifying their bombardments, and remaining in non-crucial areas was becoming an increasingly-unhealthy prospect.

The spawn was not so young as to lack a sense of irony; being vaporized by the Sith's own vessels wasn't an ending he found acceptable. Still, he took a minute to pout at the unfairness of it all. A quick end was far too boring a fate for Lianna. It was a shame that nobody else seemed to share his sense of artistic vision.

Neryn spun and dove through the air with startling agility, riding on the thermals created by great rivers of liquefying stone and metal. He rose higher and higher, taking in a better view of the city.

From up here, the whole thing did possess a certain lofty beauty, he had to admit. Maybe someone up there did have some sense of grandeur, however unsubtle. Lianna's plight was a message, writ large in the flesh and bone of a world.

That message was a loud one, sent out to every third-rate Imperial successor state and would-be warlord in the galaxy.

"Your ambitions end where we begin."

Yet another rising power, broken on the gore-slick cliffside that was the Sith Empire. Quite a few corpses had accumulated on that cliffside by now, and in all likelihood, more would come. The galaxy was full of slow learners.

Neryn sighed. Whatever the case, or the intent behind it, the fleet had cut his fun short. There was little below that was of any interest to him, aside from any ground troops insane enough to remain at their posts. The only fun to be extracted from the whole thing was to deny the prizes to others, where possible.

The creature folded his wings and plummeted low, searching for the thrum of power that he could feel in his bones. A city this large had to have something big keeping the lights on, and he intended to find it.