Skirmish The Summer Rain Rebellion [GA/SO Skirmish of Ukatis]

[Cin]

UKATIS
THE BURNING
- Serina Calis - Makko Vyres -​

The Dragon had never tasted such joy before. Yes, he was under the Faithful's spell, bound to the Sith that rode him by chains of rotten sorcery and magick. Yes, he was a tool. A mount, to be commanded, to be owned. But for a moment, none of that mattered. His whole world was flame and screaming and acrid, scorched flesh, and that was a terrible, beautiful thing.

Let them burn instead of him, for once.

He felt the worming counterbalance of the Force tipping around him, as minds reached out to uplift their allies, and strangle the morale of their enemies. The Dragon pondered them, with what of his mind was his own. Serina had made her decisions for both of them, and for now, her will was his.

The Shadow couldn't tell whether he or the Rider roared into the dark sky, spitting flames and casting lightning. Perhaps it was both of them, raging in defiance against the chains that noosed them.

...Gliding now, the Dragon paused. Canted its head to the side, like a puppy examining something new. Then, in a very un-puppylike manner, it's expression shifted to dark glee.

Cin had slipped his chain.

He debated ending it here. Twisting his neck with Force-quickened reflexes, snapping up the Sith that freed him and escaping. Or dying in the process, which would be an equally desirable result. But he paused. She had done it intentionally, hadn't she? Given him a taste of freedom, as she had promised.

Instead, the Dragon twisted, swooping low to prepare for another strafe. Before he could reach the army again, however, he felt danger. His scraping, clawing voice raked against Serina's mind.

Hold fast.
​

The Dragon rolled in the air, wings spinning like a great tornado. He batted away a concussion grenade from his center mass, growling in pain as it detonated off to the side of him. The creature's serpentine neck reached up, searching for the combatant. There he was, escaping into the sky on a speeder. Reeking of the Light.

Cin didn't hesitate for even a moment. He heaved his wings, clawing up through the sky to give chase. He roared a challenge, battering the air with his rapturous voice.

He decided he liked roaring.

 

[Serina Calis]

"And when he opened the second seal, a dragon went forth. It was as black as the void, and its rider was granted permission to take away peace from the earth and to make men slay one another." - Legend of House Calis

Tag - Cin , Makko Vyres



The air was split by fire and fury, yet Serina's eyes—blue and bladed—remained focused even as the dragon wheeled beneath her in a cyclonic surge. His mind brushed against hers, rough and ancient like scorched stone, and she felt him—not just the power, but the pride. It thrilled her. The dragon was not a mindless tool; he was becoming something more, something hers not through domination, but through mutual recognition.

And now, there came a worthy distraction.

The frag grenade was not a threat—it was an invitation. A declaration. Most would have hidden behind shields, let others die for the chance to survive. But this Jedi—this one—rose into the storm, into her domain, like a spark thrown into a furnace.

Her gaze snapped upward. Her lips parted, not in fury, but in awe.

The swoop-bike streaked across the storm-choked sky like a thrown spear. Blue flares burned behind it, carving a line across the heavens. The rider's silhouette cut through smoke and embers, alone, fragile, and defiant.

A lesser woman might have sneered. Might have scoffed at the bravado.

Serina smiled.

Not the cruel grin of a predator, nor the triumphant smirk of a victor. But something else. A flash of admiration.

"So," she murmured, her voice drowned to all but the beast beneath her. "Even now, they find new ways to be brave."

She had seen many Jedi—chained by doctrine, dulled by compassion, crippled by mercy. But every now and then, one emerged from that temple-born herd, carving a path through mediocrity by sheer will. This one was no great knight. No fabled warlord. But in that moment, launching himself alone into the jaws of death, he was magnificent.

And still—he was wrong.

His faith in the Force, in freedom, in the morality of sacrifice… wrong. His resistance was noble. But nobility without victory was just another beautiful corpse for the crows to pick clean.

She felt the dragon tense beneath her. A silent communion. His question whispered like smoke into her thoughts. She gave no command.

She gave permission.

Go.

The moment echoed in the Force.

She did not steer. She did not guide. The reins fell loose. The dragon chose the sky, his own sky, and Serina laughed—exultant, liberated. The wind tore at her cape, her armor crackled with crimson arcs, her blood thundered in her ears.

And below? Below, the war continued. The wounded screamed. Soldiers burned. Jedi clutched one another in defiance of despair.

But above—

The black dragon screamed his challenge to the heavens, climbing like a nightmare incarnate.

And Serina let him chase the light.

 

[Nodak]

Allies: The Rebels | the Sith
Enemies: The Royal Army | The Republic | Razh Sho
Equipment: Nevermourne | Shield | Armor​

---

No mercy, no reprieve.

Like a shark drawn to blood spreading across water the Monster reacted.

Leading with his right side Nodak would have planted his foot, using it as a pivot point so that his left side could swing forward. As he came towards Razh Sho his shield pumped forward, that enormous bulwark of alchemized quandranium as tall as a man and with a width to match. Targeting the Jedi himself Nodak meant to crush him, to slam into him and hurl him backwards, off his feet and into the mud.

In tandem with this he jerked on Nevermourne, whipping its head around. It would haul itself from the mud it had been embedded it with a crackle of the plasma energy forming the tether and swing itself around, to the right beneath the cover of the shield. As the Morning Star arced wide and to the right of Nodak he'd lift his arm higher, guiding it around and over his shoulders with its own momentum so that it swung back behind him until it came back over his left shoulder. Then, whirling above his head Nevermourne came down; the Morning Star swung forward and came down towards the spot in the mud where the Monster had judged the Jedi should land seeking to crush him into the earth.

As the Morning Star came down a growl penetrated the atmosphere, emanating from beneath the helm that concealed the Juggernauts features...

"RAAAAARRRRRRRR!"

...it was a guttural sound, almost animal in its predatoriness though if Nodak were a beast he was not driven by simple instinct. There was a will to dominate, a desire to crush and break his opponents beyond what an animal was capable above. More carnage, more destruction.

The Rain had made the ground soft, the blast that he'd unleashed a short time ago had created a small crater that now filled with the downpour. The Skies were darkened, the cloud cover unending. Beyond them the battle, a clash of armies; more meat to be pulverized once this had ended.

 

[Razh Sho]

Allies: The Royal Army | The Republic |
Enemies: The Rebels | the Sith | Nodak​

He felt the world shrink around him.

There was no time. No warning. Just mass, bearing down.

Nodak came like a landslide — shield forward, a wall of violence, unrelenting, unmerciful. Razh knew the intent. He would be crushed, flattened into the mud like broken scripture under the heel of conquest.

He moved — not away, but through.

He twisted his body just as the shield struck — but even his slipstream movement wasn't enough to clear its breadth. Again, the rim caught him at the ribs, and the world snapped sideways. Air left his lungs in a burst, and he was flung backwards into the wet earth, tumbling once, sliding in the cratered muck as stars flickered at the edge of his vision.

Pain. Blinding. But not the end.

Through the roar of blood in his ears, he felt it — the tether coming around again. Nevermourne, hungry for conclusion.

It will crush me.

No time to rise.
No space to leap.

Only breath.

He reached into the Force — not with strength, but with stillness. The blade in his left hand hissed to life. His injured arm, broken and limp at his side, dragged through the mud as he dug his boot into the earth, not to stand, but to anchor. As Nevermourne descended — a blur of rage and crimson — Razh lifted his blade in one hand, angling it not to stop the blow, but to shave its path.

A single line. A sliver.

Steel met plasma.

The impact cracked like thunder. The mace skidded, redirected a hair's breadth off-centre — enough to miss his skull, and instead slam into the mud beside him, the earth rupturing, a geyser of rain and dirt erupting upward. Buried in that crater, body wracked, Razh turned his face up toward the darkened sky. Water ran down the lines of his face. Blood, too.

He drew in breath, and he laughed — a low, rasping breath of mirthless joy. He rolled onto his side, then forced himself to one knee. His saber dragged across the ground, then lifted, humming weakly in his good hand.

"I'm still here."

His body trembled.

But he had not broken.

Not yet.

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

Ukatis, palace grounds
Courtyard outside the palace​

"We were just—" Raz was cut off.

An explosion tore through the air, far above Razmir and the Jedi. A loud clang followed moments later as the bell had been flung free from its tower and crashed through the building below. Within moments the tower was reduced to rubble. A symbol of Ukatian pride reduced to nothing. The people of the festival screamed.

Razmir cursed under his breath. The rebels had actually attacked the capital. He tucked the blaster away in his belt, grabbing the Duke firmly by his arm. Before he could speak, a set of doors was kicked open by the palace, wooden frames slamming into stone with loud cracks.

Shouting came from the doorway as a guard stepped through. He waved for people to exit the palace, and a gathering of nobles and servants dashed out through the doorway and into the mud. Their group was headed by a several guards who'd seemingly organized a hasty rescue, which more closely resembled a stampede. The people rushed through the courtyard, and the guards shouted at Razmir and the other two by his side, showing some relief when they saw the blue lightsaber of a Jedi.

"Come on, we have to get out of here! There might be more bombs!" The guard yelled as he ran past, followed by the nobles and the servants.

Razmir turned to the Jedi, a puzzled look on his face.

"Weren't the rebels supposed to hit the outside of the city? How come it's raining bellfries by the palace?" He shouted above the commotion.

The duke, seeing an opportunity, slipped out of Razmir's grasp, and dashed into the crowd. He disappeared in the mass of fleeing people.

"F—" Razmir's shouted exclamation was cut off by the high-pitched screech of a noble lady who'd spotted red blades of plasma on the main festival grounds.

Braze

 

[Ellissanthia]

Location: Farms Outside Axilla - Ukatis
Objective: BYOO
Mission Objective: Agricultural Sabotage

• Primary: Raze the granary complexes.
• Secondary: Destroy farming equipment and vehicles.

Tag: Valery Noble

A heartbeat was all it took for the Battlemaster to close the distance. Her form was a blur to unaugmented senses, moving with such speed and force that she created a temporary vacuum in her wake, causing the air to howl with her passage. Ellissanthia’s fin-shaped ears gave a sharp twitch as she felt the air warp around her. However, the Undine was not caught lagging.

Through wholly unnatural senses—engineered through the Dark Side for lightning acuity and processing capability—Ellissanthia watched the Jedi tear through the rain. Hyperacute senses rendered the streak perceptible to her eyes and sensible within her mind. Still, given the Battlemaster’s extreme speed, a preemptive response was impossible.

Thus, Ellissanthia raised both of her hands—neither of which held a lightsaber. With a cry of exertion, the Undine seized the Battlemaster’s lightsaber (and potentially the accompanying saber arm) in an unyielding telekinetic grip, halting the blade mere inches before it might have vertically bisected her.

Then, in the same instant, she twisted.

Ellissanthia screamed. A wailing, earsplitting banshee cry tearing out from her lips as she sidestepped around Valery and imposed her will upon the Force in an effort to wrench her arm 180 degrees—attempting to harness the Battlemaster's own momentum to hyperextend her shoulder or elbow!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Eclipsed Veil
  
  • Miscellaneous Equipment
    
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
  • Aesthetic and Accouterments
    
    • Red Accents
    • Eclipse Sect Symbol - Left Shoulder
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Storm Kiss
  
  • Purple Blade
• Supernal Infusion Vials
• SHIVA Vials
• Spirit Anchor Talisman
• Iadrium Charge (8)
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (2)