Invasion &nbsp; Total Eclipse of the Heart || Objective 2: And I Need You More Than Ever

Davik Haize •

Andrei Vorn · Jul 30, 2025

Republic:

Jerec Asyr
Objective 2

Admiral N’yvo rubbed his eyes aboard the Regal Dawn. Not believing the developments of everything that played out before him. A shadowport seemed well within the realm of possibility now with all of the larger vessels that had surrounded them. Section officers streamed all around the command deck with varying reports that they could produce as the man watched the wave of mynocks surge towards them.

“Shiraya helps us.” Words barely a whisper as he shook his head.

“The escort corvettes have been or are being engaged Admiral.” The news from a sensor technician, standing at the furthest viewport, informed them while observing through a pair of handheld binoculars.

“Report.” Admiral N’yvo voice rose above the commotion that died seconds after.

“The Queen's Grace has-” The binoculars made an audible series of clicks as the bridge remained deathly silent. “Has something stuck on their viewport. I think it’s a jedi?”

“Pardon?”

“There’s a lightsaber involved at their front viewport. From the outside.” The Admiral pinched the bridge of his nose as the tech continued after turning slightly. “And the Diligence… seems to have a starship preparing to collide with it. High speed.”

The Admiral stood in silence while processing the news. A deep sigh came from him as he pointed to the communications section officer.

“For the record, we have been engaged by an unknown entity and thus enacting defensive measures.” Receiving an affirmative on the command, he turned back before engaging the shipboard announcement system.

“General Quarters. General Quarters. All hands to battle stations. I repeat. General Quarters. General Quarters. All hands to battle stations.” Peeling his finger back from depressing the button as he turned to the staff around him.

“Defensive firing solutions only. Keep firing solutions from hitting the ships surrounding us as you are able. Shut down unnecessary systems to keep our power signature low.” The flurry of activity after his orders did not ease his concerns. His arm crossed to support the hand that rested in front of his mouth.

Chewing on the skin of his thumb as his eyes watched the mynock swarm begin to invade the formation.

A sudden burst of light drew his attention away from their formation. Something well outside of the formation that had lit up like a dying star. A weapon? Detonation maybe?

“And someone get me a reading on what that light was.”

VORN COMMAND

~Diligence~

~100%~

“Incoming shuttle collision Commodore!” The sensor section officer shouted.

“Burst transmission from Queens Grace to release helium and power down.” The comm section officer shouted.

“This went to hell in a handbasket right proper fething quick.” Adnrei hissed, staring down the shuttle that was even larger than the mynock swarm and partly painted with them.

“Queen's Grace is breaking formation!” The sensor section officer shouted.

“Brace-!” The commodore had barely had time to shout before the starfighter had punched headlong into their nose.

The entire hull groaned but held as it was rocked by the collision and out of position. The viewport spiderwebbing with cracks as the blast shields made their distinctive rumble. As the first hint of failure announced itself in a high pitched hiss before the shudders slammed shut.

Bodies thrown around as Adrei was thrown forward. Unable to hold fast to the duty station as his hands pressed against the broken viewport to break his fall. A splintering crack resounding in tandem with his sharp howl of pain.

“Commodore!” The comm section officer recovered first, thrown flat against his console and able to shield his head in time. Helping to pull Andrei back and examine his marred hands.Blood poured from several large cuts as the officer called for a medkit.

Others slowly rose around the command deck as the ship began to return to operational abilities. One of the technicians retrieved a kit from the back of the chairs and rushed over.

“Report!” His voice boomed in the lingering silence.

“Systems green sir.” The engineering section officer called out with a groan, holding her stomach while leaning over the console. “Powering down non-essentials.”

“Weapons status?”

“Checking now sir.” The weapons section officer reported, slowly seeing the screen fill with green lights before continuing. “All batteries are reporting ready."

Andrei growled as the bacta spray was applied, his whole body tensing at the sensation against raw nerves as he scowled at the officer.

“Let the weapon teams begin to target-track and orient themselves according to doctrine. I need one set of flares, and pull that fething ship off our nose.”

The tractor beam projector spooled up before trying to peel the Deep Ranger away from the Diligence's hull. A single string of high visibility flares burned bright in the void of space as the light turbolaser cannons on either side prepared to line up shots if the Deep Ranger was pulled away from the hull.

The spray blast cannons began to track the projected flight paths of the incoming Mynocks, checking with each battery before locking in their targeting vectors.

Fleet Composition

1 Transport Shuttle 1 Vigilant Corvette

4 Sirocco Escort Corvettes

1 Capital Corvette - Regal Dawn

2 HRNV Seraphine-class Frigate

2 squadrons of starfighters each

Post #3

The Madclaw · Jul 31, 2025

Rhys Gorne said:
“Close the blast shutters to knock that damn thing off then power up. Full power, everything we have.

Rhys Gorne said:
“All hands, battle stations. Get me a tractor beam lock on that damn wookiee.” Rhys barked, voice sharp as a whip crack.

Rhys Gorne said:
“Did we get him?” Rhys said, his voice low and cold.

One by one, the external holocamera feeds trained on the wookiee went dead, fuzzing out until nothing but static showed.

For a moment, an indrawn breath: silence. But for the thundering heartbeats of those on the bridge, murmured chatter, and the hiss of static.

THUD.

Metal shrieked and bowed inward... in the shape of a fist.

Another loud groan of metal that should have been capable of withstanding all but a direct turbolaser blast squealing as it twisted inward beneath some horrific force, some unholy might.

The static hiss aboard the bridge of the Queen's Grace broke, an incomprehensible rumble of guttural noises, coming from all around at once. Only those who knew Shyriiwook would understand.

"Dead men."

A bar of sunfire-bright scarlet plunged through the warped blast shield shutter and transparisteel glass alike, all around it growing molten.

Outside of the bridge, beyond that twisted steel of the blast shield, the Ghost of Kashyyyk stood upon the surface of the Queen's Grace, feet rooted to the hull as if by magnetic clamps, stuck there by the same infernal power the White Wookiee now drew upon to plunge his way through the blast shutter, even with the ship at full-burn reverse, roots as deep as the wroshyr. Muscles strained, ligaments pulled, some tore. And yet he held. Held even though around him beat a swarm of beasts so thick they blotted out all else, manic in their fury to drain the energy from anything they could clamp to. A dozen clung to him, suctioned onto his frame, trying to peel apart the layer of his skinsuit.

Deactivating his saber left a small hole.

It would be enough.

He yanked in the Force, pulling with his will on the warped metal so that it peeled backward... glass fracturing behind it.

Explosive decompression would follow.

And into that hole... thousands of mynocks.

Rhys Gorne

Jerec Asyr · Jul 31, 2025

The Madclaw Rojuhr Pouihl

Davik Haize

Jerec had an idea. It was probably because he was wearing a cape.

Space suit's helmet firmly in place, cape too, he now stood on the peak of the mountain fortress. The cape moved based on his movements and its own flexibility and mass, without atmospheric resistance. It didn't swoosh properly.

The movements in question: he shouldered a titanic multispectral radcannon rifle, one of his very favorite weapons lo these many years.

"Prepare to drop shields."

This was a very bad idea. The shields had made the purebred mynock situation survivable. Most of the horde was now well disseminated throughout the battlefield. Those still inside the shields were being hunted down by Supa fighters and space-suited semi-pacifist Ithorian toughs with tanks of helium. The moth-eaten neon signs read:

CO IN B EACH
LOGICAL AS
YOUR OWN
D W U SP

So yes, dropping the shields and potentially renewing the whole situation, horrible plan. He insisted.

The multispectral radcannon fired. It had no recoil. Its coruscating line-of-sight speed-of-light barely-visible beam, comprised of several delicious kinds of hard radiation, swept across the battlefield. Would it do damage to a reasonably shielded ship above starfighter scale? Not remotely.

He pointed it at a random ship (ONE OF YOU, I DON'T CARE WHO) and a significant portion of the mynock hordes began to chase the laser pointer.

Davik Haize · Jul 31, 2025

Jerec Asyr said:
He pointed it at a random ship (ONE OF YOU, I DON'T CARE WHO) and a significant portion of the mynock hordes began to chase the laser pointer.

As soon as he’d found a clear, straight trajectory towards the planet, Davik let out a silent breath of relief. The moment of reprieve was as fleeting as the flash of light of a ship jumping into hyperspace. Something, no, many things began pelting the hull restlessly, ceaselessly… cravingly.

“What now?” he gnarled, “Skip, check the aft cam - see what the hell was that.”

The slicer droid whirred to action and twisted the socket upon which it was plugged into; a monitor blinked to life and Skip shrilled, its chassis lighting up like a Life Day tree at the sight: a gaping, slavering maw brimming with teeth shaped like cable cutters before the feed turned to static and the ship groaned a lifeless moan.

It all unraveled too fast.

The light-coded pattern the Duchess emitted sputtered into a spasm of an unintelligible code before before collapsing into a red-hued emergency glow; the various readouts across the cockpit fractured into static, then faded into a pitch-black void; the yoke stiffened in his grip, hydraulic pumps ceasing to function; and the Duchess’ lively engine flare was extinguished, leaving the vessel drifting, powerless, down towards the tropical world like a bone stripped bare by hundred gluttonous mouths, now sated.

--
OOC:

75bdb493-1707-420d-b560-2895e426ede4-cursed-energy-3.gif

Oh, no, what happens next ?! Find out next episode as we delve into the distant past of Davik Haize!!

Click here for the story's continuation (no ads I promise)

[[Moving to Obj. 1 Scene, thanks Jerec, you Jerc]]

TAGS:

Rhys Gorne · Jul 31, 2025

O B J E C T I V E 2
W I E L U - O R B I T
THE QUEEN’S GRACE

The bridge fell silent as the first THUD rolled through the reinforced metal that had planted itself across the Queen’s Grace’s viewport.

Rhys froze, hands braced on the console as the second impact groaned through the hull. He knew that sound. Not the what, it was scientifically impossible, he’d never read the manuals for Wookiee’s that ignored the logic of space, temperature and energy clinging to a capital ship before; but the how? That noise was steel failing. To those who frequented space, the noise that came right before someone died in vacuum.

“Frakk, how is he still on the damn ship.” he snapped.

At his fingers a holo bloomed to life, their eyes on the outside and right now it was presenting the most surreal image for them to mull over. A Wookiee, standing as if the void itself didn’t matter with dozen’s of mynocks, enough to cripple any respectable freighter latched to his suit, their wings flailing sparks of electricity arcing from their teeth as they ripped and tore to get at the power seams.

The blast shutter bowed inward under invisible pressure. Metal squealed like it wanted to scream and ripped Rhys back to attention. The audio feed broke into guttural, rumbling Shyriiwook nearby a comm officer translated under his breath, voice shaking:
“…‘Dead men."

"He said… dead men.”

Rhys didn’t let himself feel it. He didn’t have the luxury.

“Situation report?”

“Microfractures in the bridge glass, internal blast doors locked but...uh...Even though they are rated for sabers, he’s still coming through. They’re minutes from venting atmosphere.”

minutes?

“Right, then we let him come in.” Rhys ordered. “We just won’t be here when he does. Sound alerts, all hands to escape pods. Keep it internal, nothing loud.”

“Sir.” Already the crew had started to move their way calmly out of the bridge and into the corridor behind.

“This is the only way we live,” Rhys added to some of the more hesitant bodies. “That thing’s making sure of that. Making sure we have no opinions. Now move.”

The rest of the bridge sprang into motion. He could already hear the clicks of suit seals as people went.

He turned to helm. “Bring us in line with that big lead Lucrahulk, we may not have a choice if we are going down, but maybe we can break this blockade.”

“Understood, sir.”

The Queen’s Grace pivoted, angling into the line. Through the viewport, Rhys caught the flash of the molten metal begin to puncture through the blast shield, spots of energy-resistant military grade metal dropping onto the glass beneath, a silent orange sun coming to consume them all. He’d been in vacuum before, but never like this, not with something alive out there, carving holes in ships, ignoring any and all logical science and technology.

“Solvi,” he said, quieter now. “You know what to do, everything. Dump it all.”

“I know, sir.” She didn’t look at him, fingers flying across controls.

Rhys keyed his codes into the ship, fully aware that what he was doing would probably get him chewed right out if he survived. His voice was steady, all things considered. “Permissions are in. Engines at a hundred percent, forward shields, one hundred percent, hyper reactor…one hundred percent.”

“One hundred and two.” Solvi answered. “One hundred and five.” She keyed off and turned to Rhys before pulling her blaster out of the holster at her hip and firing two shots into the control panel. The bridge went dark, all that remained was the ominous glowing orange of slowly melting metal. There would be no reversing what they had set in motion, the Queen would now propel itself at full speed towards the Lucrahulk dome, it’s reactor increasing in heat and energy pulling itself like a beacon of power that would attract every single Mynock in smelling distance to follow it as it carried like a missile into the Bank of Nar Shadaa ships.

The blast door sealed and clicked behind Rhys and Solvi as they departed, by the time the explosion of depressurisation ripped through the bridge of the ship both officers and the crew of the Queen were in escape pods hurtling through space behind the Republic line and towards the safety offered by the Corporate fleet of the planet both sides were trying to win over.

Rhys sat in one of the pods with no illusions.
He wasn’t a Jedi. He wasn’t a hero.
He was a spacer who knew how to survive a void fight.

And if he failed, the only thing waiting for them all was vacuum and death.

Fleet Composition

1 Transport Shuttle 1 Vigilant Corvette

4 Sirocco Escort Corvettes

1 Capital Corvette

1 HRNV Seraphine-class Frigate

1 HRNV Seraphine-class Scuttled.

2 squadrons of starfighters each

Davik Haize •

Tyrant 1 · Aug 1, 2025

Aboard the Crimson Aces Mercenary Company carrier Bandog
BLACK SUN SYNDICATE-aligned mercenaries
Tyrant Squadron Mission Briefing
Prior to deployment...

Briefing II

CRIMSON ACES DEPLOYMENT

Tyrant Squadron:

Emperor
Nemo
Ronin
Consul
Wiseman

AWACS Support:

Marchion

Crimson Command
« Alright Tyrant, listen up. The assignment is simple. Black Sun needs bodies to fill out their blockade, and you're exactly that. »
« Keep the air space clear and ensure that nothing happens to those Lucrehulks. They're pivotal to this mission's success. »

Wiseman
« What are our rules of engagement for this one, sir? »

Crimson Command
« Simple: warning shots at anything civilian that tries to leave the planet. If they persist, scrap 'em. »
« Republic Navy tries to interfere, do what you do best. But maintain proximity to those Lucrehulks. »
« I cannot stress enough how vital they are to this mission. »

Wiseman
« Understood. »

Crimson Command
« Good. This operation should be easy credits...one more thing. The jamming means we'll be going radio silent. »
« That means no radio chatter for any of you. I want you to follow Emperor's lead on this one. »
« Maintain visual at all times and do your best to reestablish if you lose it. Dismissed. »

Wielu's orbit
Nearby the Lucrehulks
Present...

Oran twisted the controls sideways as hard as he could. The fighter rolled right, its engines screaming. He'd barely avoided one group of mynocks, only for more of the beasts to fill his viewscreen straight ahead. They were coming straight at him. This horde had to be endless.

What was supposed to be a routine blockade operation had quickly devolved into a nightmare. The High Republic fleet had been intimidating enough, and the baradium-filled self-destructing freighters had put Oran on edge. Now a mynock swarm of apocalyptic proportions had claimed the battlefield for itself and was in the process of chewing up anything with even a drop of energy to spare. Lucrehulks included.

Laser fire tore through the group of Mynocks coming for him. They scattered, leaving a small corridor of safety for Oran's fighter to slip through. A brief glance up revealed Ronin executing defensive maneuvers, lascannons still going hot, but Tyrant III quickly disappeared behind another cloud of mynocks again.

Oran pulled his starfighter into an upward turn, breaking hard to make the turn circle as tight as possible. Once aligned with Tyrant III's trajectory, he put the engines on full burn again, trailing behind his comrade. The fighter's shields had been holding, but the mynocks kept ramming into him, over and over. Enough impacts and they'd be overloaded, leaving his starfighter to be picked apart by the energy-sucking pests.

Oran squeezed the trigger, firing controlled bursts at the swarm. Most of his shots went wide, but enough struck, and soon enough the swarm began to peel away from his comrade. Ronin's fighter pulled back, flying parallel to Oran's. The two exchanged brief hand signals. Gratitude and some tactics.

Neither had seen the other fighters of Tyrant in a while. The unknown made Oran's gut twist.

He pulled his fighter into a wide turn, and Ronin followed suit. There was no teling how long they'd have before another swarm of mynocks descended on them. Oran needed a better understanding of the greater battlefield situation before he could proceed.

Jerec Asyr · Aug 1, 2025

Still standing atop the mountain peak of bat-chewed Fortress Thaal'Quorr, wearing a black cape over his space suit and sweeping the multispectral radcannon around like a laser pointer, Jerec cackled out both sides of his neck.

Pointer-chasing mynock hordes had just driven

Davik Haize down from space to an ignoble crash or near-crash on the planet.

"This is what makes life worth living," Jerec said to himself with great contentment. He had only intermittent comms contact with the bridge crew a few dozen meters away. The jamming remained strong-ish. It was kind of flucuptuated.

Eager to direct additional mynocks away from Thaal'Quorr and the extremely valuable Lucrehulks, he picked another
target at random.

Multispectral high-energy radiation or not, it was a personal-scale weapon. If the target was a starfighter-scale ship with shields down, or a Wookiee in a space suit, maybe there'd be risk of rad burns and cancer. If it was literally anything else, harmless — apart from the mynock aspect inflicted on the unwary or especially sportsmanlike.

The Madclaw · Aug 2, 2025

The Madclaw stood in the ruins of an abandoned vessel. The bridge was empty, left in haste. A dozen mynocks clung to the Wookiee's skinsuit, pulsing, frying his suit systems. He would run out of air soon. Yellow eyes glowered at the burnt out control panels and let out a wordless snarl as he realized what they had done.

Clever prey.

Lips curling back from fangs in defiance, the Madclaw refused to admit he was bested.

He had one more play left.

Cutting off the mynocks with spins of his lightsaber, he loped through the vacuum of space, propelling himself with great bounds before yanking himself out into the void - beyond the ship.

Hanging there, floating like a strange object, he witnessed the doom about to befall the lucrehulk. The ship was hurtling at full burn toward the lucrehulks, the reactor was set to maximum and overheating, a cloud of mynocks flocking to it so thick as to blot out the planet below. And all of the systems were locked out. He could allow it to happen and save his own hide. But such a course held no glory. And the Madclaw hated to be beaten.

Deactivating his lightsaber, he still held it in his paw, but he stretched out both paws and seized the rear of the ship fast moving from his field of vision with his very will. For a moment, nothing, then the strain set in and the Madclaw could feel the resistance as the enormous engines battled his sheer telekinetic strength, then with a soundless roar he made a ripping motion and poured out every ounce of his strength. Seveal of the engine housings twisted violently, metal crumpling and the entire ship began to spin off-vector, hurtling round and around as it tumbled off course - away from the lucrehulks and trailing a cloud of mynocks.

Vision flickering, air low, the Madclaw hung in the deepness of space and bared his fangs in one last defiant smile before sinking into a state of meditation so deep, he seemed as one dead.

Rhys Gorne

Andrei Vorn · Aug 5, 2025

Republic:

Jerec Asyr
Objective 2

N'YVO COMMAND

~Capital Corvette- Regal Dawn ~	~98%~	~99%~
~Vigilant Corvette- Blossom~	~85%~	~87%~
~Diligence~	~87%~	~92%~
~Queen's Grace~	~0%~	~0%~
~Bountiful~	~82%~	~90%~
~Gracious Gaurd~	~89%~	~91%~
~Seraphine-class Frigate- Theed's Serenity ~	~89%~	~96%~
~Seraphine-class Frigate- Gungan Spirit ~	~85%~	~96%~
~45/48 Defensive Lancer-class Snubfighters~	~100%~	~100%~
~15/16 Attacking Lancer-class Snubfighters~	~100%~	~100%~

Lancer-class Snubfighters had already begun to take off from the Theed's Serenity and Gungan Spirit with the general quarters alarm. Angling themselves into positions and beginning to make defensive strafing runs to protect the fleet formation against the Mynocks while the Bountiful and Gracious Gaurd took their designated positions to begin working their designated vectors of overlapping protective fire.

Swaths of Mynocks charred to a crisp by outgoing fire and sent spinning into the void or thudding against a starship hull as the Lancer-class Snubfighters wove themselves within the tighter confines of the fleet formation.

A handful were latched onto as the pilots tried to limp themselves back toward their respective hangars.

Some returned with a less than graceful landing as security teams began disposing of the Mynocks and repair teams could begin to work. Other snubfighters simply went quiet and slipped away into the void of space.

Their pilots uselessly screamed at the creature attached to their hull while beating against the viewport as the drifted away at speed.

N'yvo watched all of this without letting emotion slip through. He was not heartless by any means; It pained him in no small way that they had been so ill prepared against such a surprise. Watching as his comrades battled against what that blasted station had called spilled and then labeled an ecological disaster.

The brainless bodies of those energy leeches dominated too much of the area as he watched them move. His eyes narrowed tightly as they moved in a way that went against their nature.

“Those beasts are moving as if guided.” Admiral N’yvo commented to himself. An officer beside him was not entirely sure what had been said and glanced at the man. Taking a pair of electrobinoculars for his own viewing to intently watch the swarm appear to chase a particular target despite the radiant show one of their escort ships was making of itself.

“The Queen's Grace has been removed from combat sir. And the Diligence has closed its front shutter.” The news came as a surprise. Being met with a stern sound of disappointment from the Admiral.

This was supposed to have been a peaceful negotiation. Instead he was watching their small contingent be taken apart piecemeal in real time.

Watching as the Queen's Grace fluttered into silence after being split apart and thrown away from the battlefield until he could no longer see its hull. Shifting his gaze away before he could deliver any choice words on the matter.

Sweeping his gaze across what could be called a battlefield until he settled on the spacer station.

A strange sight settled in his vision as the electrobinoculars were placed against his chest.

“Send target coordinates Tango-645, 412, by 211. I want–” Admiral N’yvo declared before raising his electrobinoculars again. Watching the strange weapon be pointed in their direction.

The swarm fluttered and shifted instantly.

He had guessed correctly. A smirk appeared now as his command changed.

“Belay that order. All available weapons stations to forward firing vectors. Defend against that swarm. Send a squadron of Lancer's to those coordinates.” The orders were dispensed with speed as the hull lit up. The Regal Dawn employed all eight turbolaser emplacements against the swarm as its two ordinance launchers began dispensing wide area flechette missiles in rapid succession.

A forward Ballistic Chaff launcher even appeared to further thin the swarm as Theed's Serenity and Gungan Spirit followed suit with 20 turbolaser batteries and 16 laser cannons to form a defensive wall of fire.

One of the squadrons of Lancer-class Snubfighters peeled away from the defensive formation and engaged their engine boosts in a wide arc towards the position Jerec maintained atop the fortress peak.

Their engines shifted to agility mode as they closed in to harass the spacesuit clad Ithorian with hurried laser cannon fire until they could close the gap needed to get the spray-blast cannons going. Two letting loose with heat-seeking missiles as the swarm of Lancer-class Snubfighters fanned out defensively.

Post#4

•Fleet formation has focused fire into the swarm that Jerec directed their way using laser cannons, turbolasers, missiles, and Ballistic Chaff.
• 3/4 of the Lancer-class Snubfighters are in defensive formations within the fleet.
•1/4 of the Lancer-class Snubfighters have moved to attack Jerec at the space station.

Vestra Tane · Aug 5, 2025

SHIP STATUS: DEEP RANGER | SHIELDS 0% | HULL RAPIDLY APPROACHING 0%
TAGS:

"Vee, do we know a doc that can treat melanoma? Think I can feel the tumors already."

It was a joke, of course. Vestra couldn't feel anything except the layers of skin peeling off her face and the laser-light burning at the edge of her vision. She was just lucky that her flight suit had rad protection.

But it was fine. It was fine. The pain made her focus. Made her better.

Crouched over the Ranger's control panel, one hand loosely gripping a stolen lightsaber, Vestra started working.

"Computer, can we make a jump? Think we're out of Wielu's well."

«Negative,» the Deep Ranger's droid brain trilled, almost condescending. «The Hyperdrive has been damaged by impact. Attempting to enter hyperspace will result in catastrophic hyperlight explo-» The irritating electronic trill was silenced, finally, by a deadly arc of blue plasma. In the back of her skull, the Sith felt a twinge of remorse.

"Perfect. Vee, I'm plotting a jump. We've got maybe two minutes to get out of the blast radius." Vee didn't respond. Again, Vestra felt that little twinge of remorse. Vee was only quiet when he was scared.

But there was too much going on to be smart about this. Sublight engines had to stay locked at maximum thrust or the enemy ship's turrets would get a clear visual. Her own side was blasting her with a glorified cancer beam. Getting away was no longer an option - getting in was all Vestra and Vee had left. And so - With a flex of a metal hand, Vestra called something to her grasp. A helmet, all glass and tubing and rubber seal, that thankfully provided relief from the worst of jerec's laser onslaught. Shame the O2 made her face sting.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus, and start moving.

Jerec Asyr · Aug 5, 2025

Andrei Vorn said:
One of the squadrons of Lancer-class Snubfighters peeled away from the defensive formation and engaged their engine boosts in a wide arc towards the position Jerec maintained atop the fortress peak.

Their engines shifted to agility mode as they closed in to harass the spacesuit clad Ithorian with hurried laser cannon fire until they could close the gap needed to get the spray-blast cannons going. Two letting loose with heat-seeking missiles as the swarm of Lancer-class Snubfighters fanned out defensively.

You could get pretty focused using a multispectral radcannon as a laser pointer. Thinking back before the moment when he accidentally became a Vigo, today put Jerec in mind of one of the top three reasons he'd joined Black Sun in the first place: new and unforgettable experience. Never, never a dull day.

The jamming failed at last — some development elsewhere in the battle, presumably — and the comlink in his helmet blared the voice of a cousin.

"—off! They're firing missiles! Mother Jungle dammit—"

Jerec left off with the radcannon, scanning the likely vectors frantically as dread sank in. He'd taken the shields down for this exploit, hadn't he. And while he'd launched some of the large Supa fighter compliment, they were both mynock-chewed and busy chewing mynocks right back.

Ah, there. A squadron of Naboo fighters inbound, and a couple of little twinkling points might be those missiles. And laser fire flashed out. Up here at the peak was still inside Thaal'Quorr's artificial gravity, at least. Jerec let the bulky radcannon fall away and booked it.

He ran thumping down the peak toward the crown of the fortress. Laser cannons smashed and splashed against the rock around him.

The fortress had guns aplenty and the gunners did their best to complicate the space. Some of the Supas did likewise — the one-squadron probe couldn't actually do much damage — but they didn't need to do damage to Thaal'Quorr. One Ithorian running down a space mountain, cape dragged out airlessly behind him, was a much squishier target.

He gronked dismay and threw himself behind the lip of the broad fortress roof, the round pinnacle that held the command deck. Weapons fire turned this whole stretch to shrapnel. He contemplated the follies that had brought him here.

He did, however, have a blaster pistol. You could do a lot with a blaster pistol.

As the Naboo fighters met their complications, Jerec clambered onto the low curved roof, a dead-mynock-strewn and mynock-bitten surface almost half a klick wide, and drew down clumsily with space-suited fingers. Blasts of all descriptions punched dents and rents and craters in the roof around him. He sighted on the nearest fighters and got to plinking.

Rhys Gorne · Aug 6, 2025

O B J E C T I V E 2
W I E L U - O R B I T
ESCAPE POD

The escape pod was a stink of coolant and scorched metal. Inside Rhys and twenty crew had stopped trying peer through the tiny view window to see if the Queen’s Grace had made it’s impact with the Lucrahulk, the lack of light from that area of space had made them realise that again somehow, the ship had been affected by powers beyond science and nature. It was clear to them all now that the Queen’s Grace was gone. Vaporized by it’s own reactor going critical, somewhere in the empty void of space. Just a blinding flash in the dark that nobody would see.

It had been followed by silence and then movement and a loud clang. The sounds of a docking clamp. Rhys tensed as did the entire crew.

A hiss of decompression cut through the pod’s hull like a knife across air, followed by the whine of mechanical arms retracting. The hatch blew open with a puff of air and harsh, white light poured in, silhouetting three figures in angular grey uniforms and lightweight vac-suits. They weren’t High Republic. However Rhy’s instantly recognised the uniform.

Corporate.

Rhys blinked up at them, coughing once. “I don’t suppose you’re the caterer for the cruise?”

The one in front didn’t smile. But they didn’t shoot either which gave Rhys some feeling of progress.

They hauled him out of the pod and into a small receiving bay, not as calmly and welcoming as he would have liked but it gave him time to look around. It wasn’t a warship, but one of those very dangerous and armed corporate frigates. Fast. No markings, just serials on hull panels and a corporate security crest stenciled over the door.

They let him talk. Or maybe they were just listening for the words that mattered.

“Look,” he said, voice hoarse from the pod’s dry air. “This is going to sound crazy but orders you’ve been given, they’re corrupted. This whole banking fleet is a setup.”

The commanding officer narrowed her eyes. “Explain.”

“You’re behind our lines, right? You’ve seen the comm blackouts. Ships going dark. That’s not a Republic disarray. It’s too persistent to be an anomaly. It’s interference, Black Sun interference. They’re using the chaos of the banking fleet’s standoff to make sure your membership into the republic is stalled, so they can smuggle arms, cover assassinations; gods know what else. Every hour this blockade holds, they get stronger.”

He let that hang in the air and watched their expressions.

There were no denials and a couple of stares in the room.

“The Queen’s Grace. The ship that just blew somewhere out there. It was them, they’ve been targeting the High Republic fleet trying to garner a response and they’ll keep hitting ships until we’re either blamed or gone. Naboo… Naboo doesn’t know. Not yet.”

The officer crossed her arms. “You’re suggesting we side with the Republic?” She gave a short snort of a laugh. “Until we have suggestions, otherwise we are neutral.”

“I’m not asking for you to side with us. I’m asking you to cover the retreat,” Rhys said, steady. “Just long enough for them to fall back and warn Naboo. If word gets through, the Senate can intervene before this turns into a warzone. If it doesn’t; Black Sun wins the whole board.”

A long pause.

Then, the other officer gave a quiet reply, “We’ve detected irregular emissions near the eastern corridor. Two of our ships just went silent.”

“Then you already know I’m not wrong,” Rhys said. “You want to walk away neutral, fine. Let me get back to the fleet and I’ll sort this mess out myself. But if you hold the line now, just for a moment, a stand against everything you know is wrong. You can make sure this doesn’t turn into a sector wide open war.”

Another beat. Then the officer turned. “Relay the intel to command. Warm the drives. Prepare to move into defensive formation.”

Rhys exhaled, letting the bulkhead take his weight for just a second. Not safe. Not by far. But for the first time since the Grace cracked apart, they had a heading.

“Wait…” He paused. “You have communications?”

“Only internally with our fleet. They have been blocking anything outside of the system, but until now we thought it was galactic anomaly based.” The officer said, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Can you reach the planet?” Rhys asked, fearing to hope.

“Should be able to, we've had scattered security reports but nothing beyond that.”

That was enough.

“I need to get a message through to the surface. If you’d let me?”

Outside the Corporate fleet, a slew of cruisers and frigates and fighters all began to shift, their hiding positions behind the High Republic line now conjoined, a picket line of naval power ready to take the fight to the discovery of the Black Suns interactions. This blockade wouldn’t fall, not even with this combined might, but they might be able to punch a hole large enough for a ship to break through, to get back to Naboo, to alert the senate and save the delegation below.

Meanwhile on the surface the High Republic guard who had gone down as part of the security detail and several of the Corporate guards as well all had their comms light up a simple message blurting its way out.

Delega [STATIC] m, This is Cap [STATIC] Gorne of the Hig [STATIC] c Navy The Banking Fleet of [STATIC] has set a block [STATIC] rporate fleet. We must evacuate n [STATIC] Naboo. All communication is locked. We are going [STATIC] way out. Please evacuate [STATIC] now. We shall [STATIC] rival. We will hold [STATIC] .

Fleet Composition

1 Transport Shuttle 1 Vigilant Corvette

4 Sirocco Escort Corvettes

1 Capital Corvette

1 HRNV Seraphine-class Frigate

1 HRNV Seraphine-class Destroyed

2 squadrons of starfighters each

The Corporate Fleet

Davik Haize •

Andrei Vorn · Aug 6, 2025

Republic:

Jerec Asyr
Objective 2

N'YVO COMMAND

~Capital Corvette- Regal Dawn ~	~96%~	~87%~
~Vigilant Corvette- Blossom~	~85%~	~89%~
~Diligence~	~87%~	~92%~
~Queen's Grace~	~0%~	~0%~
~Bountiful~	~80%~	~65%~
~Gracious Gaurd~	~72%~	~71%~
~Seraphine-class Frigate- Theed's Serenity ~	~83%~	~87%~
~Seraphine-class Frigate- Gungan Spirit ~	~82%~	~78%~
~40/48 Defensive Lancer-class Snubfighters~	~100%~	~100%~
~11/16 Attacking Lancer-class Snubfighters~	~100%~	~100%~

The Lancer-class snubfighters had done their job. In the time it had taken the ithorian to run down the hill under fire, four of them had been blasted from the sky by various means. One encountered a wayward mynock in the middle of his descent. The diminutive fighter jarred off course and sent into the rocks. Another two were shot down by the station's weaponry while the last had caught the stray beam of the rad-cannon. Never pulling out of the maneuver as they flew off into the void of space.

The surge of mynocks towards N’yvo’s formation continued as they focused on the explosive surge in power that was being poured into their swarm.

More than the admiral would have liked latching onto their hull as technicians began their callouts for damage control. Sections of the ship were manually shut down to avoid catastrophic failures while maintaining power to the weapon emplacements. Spacefaring suits donned as the crews raced against the power hungry leeches that had nothing but time.

The Admiral watched quietly as the hulking bodies remained silent around them.

Until something shifted.

Dark forms began to arrange themselves beneath the corporate ships. A picket line revealing itself before forming around their own formation as the Admiral smiled.

“It seems we have obtained help. See if communications are back online and reach out to them.” Admiral N’yvo nodded with a growing feeling of hope.

“I wonder how long it will last.” The sensor tech thought aloud, eyeing the newly formed line of ships that had begun to help thin out the Mynocks before setting their sights on the Black Sun vessels.

“It is more help than we started with. Status report on the formation. Someone configure our remaining fleet assets for optimization and-” Admiral N’yvo paused as he spotted the sensor tech turn sharply toward the Diligence. “Report.”

“Energy Spike! The vessel that rammed the Diligence has jettisoned their hyperdrive!”

“Both Tractors on the Diligence! I want that ship dragged free and out of range!”

VORN COMMAND

~Diligence~

~87%~

~92%~

“Energy Spike on the forward bow!” The sensor section officer hollered. Cradling their head as they rapidly blinked their eyes as if it would ease the pain.

"Comm’s may be coming online sir! Still static heavy.”” The comm section officer followed behind them as Andrei let himself be helped still.

“Are engines still online?” Adnrei hissed, staring down the shuttle that was even larger than the mynock swarm and partly painted with them.

“Still operational sir! We didn’t have time to shut them down before the impact.” The engineering section officer choked on the words as a hand was pressed against her mouth.

“Energy spike is still growing!” The sensor section officer shouted.

“I need those drives in full boosted reverse! Disengage from the starfighter and figure out where we are and orient-”

“Transmission from the Regal Dawn, we-.””

The ship lurched twice in quick succession as Andrei pushed his forearms against the nearest station to keep himself upright. The engines at first roared to life with directional vector bucking as the Deep Ranger was let go to begin to drawing them backwards. Then once again as they were yanked violently from their escape path.

The ship pulled in a half turn and burning hard into the pull as the weapons officer reported in.

“Weapons are unable to track the target with how we are being pulled sir! Orders?”

Andrei hissed at the inability to strike back. His fists clenching as wounds reopened against his nails and blood dripped to the deck.

The entire hull groaned again.

“Have weapon crews ignore the starship. Focus on the mynocks. Relay the Regal Dawn transmission.” Andrei kept his hands clenched and moved toward the comms post. His form towering once more over the station.

“We are to reorient ourselves in formation and link up with the Blossom to await further instructions. We are to maintain defensive operations in the meantime.” The message relayed, Andrei sighed and looked at the sensor tech.

“Sensors report.”

Their collective faces paled as they watched their screens before the senior tech finally spoke. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as each word reached his ears.

“They jettisoned their hyperdrive sir.”

-Lancer Snubfighters continue to harass the station and harry Jerec.
-Main Fleet formation has been bolstered and begin

Post #5

Jerec Asyr · Aug 6, 2025

Rhys Gorne

"Torture by chagrin! Hoisted on my own petard! A cavalcade of — fuck!"

Jerec was struggling. Bombardment damage had warped the airlock and he had a singed space suit to reckon with. To say nothing of his poor tattered cape, which reacted to Thaal'Quorr's atmospheric pressure by getting in all the flapping, fluttering, and combustion of which hard vacuum had heretofore deprived it. Jerec flailed to disentangle himself from himself.

The airlock hissed open to put him on his madhouse bridge that had been a theofascist chamber of governance before things got bolted on. Weapons fire and mynock hickies marred the glasteel. Jerec swooshed the cape's smoking remains over his shoulder impressively. As updates and begging assailed him — the mynocks in the hangars were mostly under control! — he went "hsst, hsst" to shut up these hardened criminals and removed the helmet of his space suit.

"First off, yes, you can put the shields back up. Mistakes were made."

Jerec turned his gaze upon the battlefield and let it signal avarice in ways these people would find credible, assuming they could read Ithorian expressions after a few weeks in his no doubt enjoyable vicinity.

"But not by them. A couple of commanders out there played that to perfection despite our very best, I mean to say our most exclusive tickets straight to rancor shavvit. They rolled with Madclaw's ramships. They rolled with jamming. They rolled with Thaal'Quorr Mountain and an ecological catastrophe and me, if I say so myself. Right down to blink code and helium." Jerec aimed a space-suited finger at some of the embattled Republic boats. "Every resource, every possible attention. Find out who commanded those little ships."

Out there, an overloaded hyperdrive detonated. Jerec shielded his eyes from the glare (with both hands out of necessity).

"Hire them. Make them rich. Everyone on the Jedi side always wants to be a military industrial complex, let's make it happen. I want those fuckers on our side next time we go up against..." Jerec waved his hand absently. Who sucked lately? "...one of the Empires, or slap down the Hutts. How much can Naboo really be paying these people? What are their retirement plans like? And here's the real value proposition. In Black Sun, when nobility sneers at you, you're allowed to sneer back. It's actually encouraged. Can Naboo offer that? No? Fugheddabout it."

The mynock-chewed billboards took some doing to repurpose, but in the end:

GORN AND VORN
EC LOGICAL HEROS
1 MILLION
COME EORK FOR
GOOD FELLAS

Andrei Vorn · Aug 8, 2025

Republic:

Rhys Gorne