Faction [TSC] Terror in Tapani

[Naniti]

Naniti had a doubt.

Mercy was there because her face would scare the Tapani to stupidity and their untimely demise? Not that the Togruta questioned the woman's ability to scare someone to death. Her visage was frightful even if Naniti refused to show it. Mercy wasn't the first Sith Lord that promised certain death behind their gaze that she'd met. It did keep the young Acolyte from making quips or speaking out of place, however. Mercy wasn't the sort you offered kindly, personal advice about improving her disposition or outlook on life. Her friends might get away with that, but not someone she just met unless they were insanely witty.

Seemed like there was another reason Mercy wasn't out there tearing people limb from limb.

Having navigated the first test successfully, the Lysander and her got a little confirmation from Mercy about how they'd understood the assignment. Meant they'd live longer. But now wasn't the time to feel secure in how long they had left in this life.

Blue rings regarded the tall woman and glanced at the map as the Lord's eyes returned to it. A thought had already conjured itself, but Naniti would wait until Mercy finished her thought. Not the least of reasons being answering before the reward was set ensured you got something lesser -- if not something more akin to a punishment than anything.

And First Strike it was. Reward. Punishment. To a Sith Lord it was all the same. Some of them would even give you the "honor" of carrying their banner into the field as if shouting "shoot me, I'm here" was a good thing.

The stories Naniti had read in the archives.

"Find a way to send them to their deaths," the Togruta replied calmly, her head tilted back to look up at Mercy towering over them. "If one doesn't present itself then kill them first before boarding the defenseless ships full of prizes." Naniti had told Lysander she'd been brought up by a Traditionalist. Well, traditionally speaking you let your "allies" throw themselves into battle as meat shields and what few survived you killed yourself unless they had some use left in them. The intrinsic value of life to the Sith was to be of use -- spend that and you were refuse to be swept out of the way.

Mercy | Lysander von Ascania

 

[Riffraff Ranat]

Objective 3: Real Work
Tapani Sector
Sheva's Moon
Construction Site
Tags: Kirie | Anet Raine | Skael the Patient

​

A hundred or so yards away, a tiny figure waved. They might not have stood out if it weren't for the electric yellow work vest they wore atop overalls, along with a bright orange hardhat with custom holes punched through the sides for Riffraff's pointed ears.

In truth, the purple ranat had been wrangling with various blueprints for the better part of half an hour and finally felt she had her head on straight about what the best use of their time would be while they awaited making landfall. Most of the older or more experienced Covenant members were already away with their own objectives or tasks, leaving Riffraff to wonder if she'd have to comm in a request for heavy machinery, which would waste even more time. Thankfully she'd spotted Skael, who had a weird propensity for knowing just where to be or just who to cozy up with.

Her datapad pinged and the woman swiped open the screen absently, a dry chuckle left her as he typed back quickly then stowed the device again in one of her many overall pockets.

<: "Waving at you" :>

The gruff ranat began without ceremony as the others neared, gnashing sharp teeth on a toothpick as she spoke in a feminine but gravely voice.

"Right, ok. I've been given express permission to oversee this dig-site. Yous all are wizard types right? We've got a lot of raw materials, which is a good start but before we start piecin' chit together we've gotta make space for a foundation. This'n shaping up to be a fethin big warehouse."

Riffraff paused, looking up at the others expectantly awaiting comments or questions. She used the moment to fish a peanut out of a different pocket and flip it into the air.

"Heya Skael, think that Olana is joining us sometime."

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Calipsa - Calipsa Estate

Equipment:
Acolyte Robes| Lightsaber | Cybernetic Arm

OBJECTIVE 1 - LIFE DAY​

Ace didn't slow when she spoke. Her suggestion registered and he made the next cut anyway, because his body knew how even if his mind didn't want the lesson. The victim was going to die regardless. A shiak thrust didn't feel cleaner. It was just gaslighting.

"Don't remember asking for your advice." Ace said, flat and distant, without looking back at her.

He made another turn and her words about caring, about becoming numb, scraped at him, but he refused to give them room. He didn't want to admit to her, or himself, that that's exactly what he was beginning to do.

When Neriah told him to lead, he took point, putting himself between her and whatever waited ahead. Not to protect her. To control the pace. To decide where the violence happened and how much of it he had to carry. For the first time since his infiltration, doubt slipped in sideways.

Can I actually do this?

Not the fighting... the pretending. Playing at being Sith without letting it hollow him out from the inside. The question brushed against something older, colder: the vision on Teth. The version of himself that had stood in shadow. He'd told himself then that visions weren't destiny. That choice still mattered.

Nar Shaddaa followed, uninvited. Mercy 's voice, half-heard, half-remembered. She'd wanted escalation. A war big enough to justify everything that came after.

Then his thoughts shifted, not to the Covenant, but to what would stand opposite them. To the High Republic. The Hidden Path. To the people inside it who didn't get to choose whether monsters like this came knocking.

Fatine von Ascania 's sharp smile. Sibylla Abrantes 's steady presence. Lorn Reingard 's quiet certainty. Isobel Serraris 's faith. Not just them, everyone he cared for, were all going to be in danger if Mercy got what she wanted.

That realization hit harder than guilt. Ace's grip tightened, not with rage, but with clarity. Whatever this was costing him, whatever pieces of himself he had to lock away to get through it, it couldn't outweigh the alternative.

Watching Varin burn a path through civilians. Watching Arris train murder like it was a craft. Feeling the Covenant enjoy the shape of this night. The doubt burned off, replaced by something colder and more stable.

The Sith Covenant couldn't be allowed to exist. Not after this. Not after what it demanded of everyone it touched. Ace moved on through the corridor, face set, heart armored, resolve hardening with every step. No matter the cost. They were done.

He lifted a hand, two fingers cutting downward as voices spilled toward a junction ahead. He glanced back at Neriah once, already moving.

"Take the left corridor." He commanded. "Collapse it, funnel them back toward me. Anyone who tries to slip past. End it. Cleanly."

Neriah Calven | Arris Windrun | Varin Mortifer​

 

[Nyles Kote]

Friendly Units:
NF-01 Nano-flares loaded in countermeasure launchers fleet-wide.

• HC-01 Tra'phatir-class Heavy Cruiser Kad Ha'rangir b' Phatir (flagship) 100 | 100
• HF-02 Cabur-class Heavy Frigate Cabur b' Beskad 100 | 100
• HF-02 Cabur-class Heavy Frigate Chaab b' Kotir 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Kyramud b' Kal 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Chek 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Kyramudyc 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Tal'murey'lin 100 | 100

Units in Reserve: The entire might of Strill Securities' naval assets. All too far to respond.

Ally Tag(s): Jas Katis

Enemy Tag(s): Rixa | Mercy | Lysander von Ascania | Naniti

Equipment

Armor Implant(s) Equipment Melee Sidearm(s) Rifle(s) Explosives

• 
  
  • 'Tra'verd'jurkad'gam'
    • Equipment Mount: Ysalamiri Birikad.
    • Back Weapon Mount: A-03S Verpine Shatter Autocannon
      
      • GVSR-FAMR Guided Flechette Magazine (1 loaded, 3 spare)
    • Right Gauntlet and Vambrace: 'Verd b' Marev' Gauntlet and Vambrace
      
      • Weapon Mounts:
        
        • Left:
          
          • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
        • Top:
          
          • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
            
            • Tracyn'vhipir-class Brilliant Plasma Missile (4)
            • Striilir'ika-M-class Brilliant Micro-missile (Baradium) (4)
        • Right:
          
          • PC-05V Plasma Caster
            
            • Plasma Gas Medium Cannister (1)
    • Left Gauntlet and Vambrace: 'Verd b' Surhaai' Gauntlet and Vambrace
      
      • Weapon Mounts:
        Left:
        
        • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
        • Top:
          
          • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
            
            • Tracyn'vhipir-class Brilliant Plasma Missile (4)
            • Striilir'ika-M-class Brilliant Micro-missile (Baradium) (4)
        • Right:
          
          • CP-03V CryoBan Projector
            
            • CryoBan Cannister (1)
    • Utility Belt Loadout:
      
      • Hardcase Spring-loaded Ammunition Pouches
      • Hardcase Spring-loaded Grenade Pouches
      • Hardcase Large Satchel
      • Softcase Large Storage Pouches (dump pouch)
      • Magnetic Clamp
    • Load-bearing Rig Loadout:
      
      • Hardcase Spring-loaded Ammunition Pouches
      • Hardcase Spring-loaded Grenade Pouches
      • Central Secondary High Capacity Rylith Power Cell
      • Medium and Large Gription Panels
    • Holster Setup:
      
      • 1x chest-rig mounted
      • 2x belt-mounted
      • 1x thigh mounted (dominant hand side)
• 
  
  • 'Agol'ja'had'-R Medical Implant System
  • 'Ori'aal'briik' Nervous System Enhancer
  • 'Nejah Oya'karur' Full-spectrum Immunity Booster
  • 'Sur'haai Haata'got' Optical Cyberware Interface
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• 
  
  • 'Shushai Rugam' Sensor Sphere (1)
• 
  
  • K-04 Skirata Ehn-ky'kal Kal (2)
  • K-03 Kal(1)
• 
  
  • RP-05A Ripper Pistol
    
    • 'Kyrayc Sur'haai'-M 1-4x Short Range Optic
    • 'Drala Sur'haai' Targeting Laser/Illuminator
    • Ammunition:
      
      • GRR-APP Guided Armor-Piercing Magazine (1 loaded, 2 spare)
      • GRR-FR Guided Flechette Magazine (3)
• 
  
  • RR-04B Ripper Rifle
    
    • 'Kyrayc Sur'haai'-M 1-12x Medium Range Optic
    • 'Drala Sur'haai' Targeting Laser/Illuminator
    • UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher
      
      • Ammunition:
        
        • BG-02 Baradium Grenade (1 in the chanmber, 5 in the tube)
    • Ammunition:
      
      • GRR-APR Guided Guided SLAP Magazine (1 loaded, 2 spare)
      • GRR-FR Guided Flechette Magazine (3)
• 
  
  • BG-02 Baradium Grenade (4)​
  • SJG-02 Signal Jammer Grenade (2)​
  • NGG-02 Nagnol Gas Grenade (2)​
  • AWCGG-02 Anti-Energy Weapon Countermeasure Gas Grenade (2)​

[/slide]

Corporate Federation - Strill Securities
Tapani Sector, Convoy Escort

The Corporate Federation. It had been a long time coming. The alor had hoped that even if they couldn't find those of a similar mind among their own people that perhaps they could find them among those corporate entities that were tired of galactic instability. Had they? It wasn't his job to make that decision. This deployment, however, had been. He didn't normally deploy on convoy escorts, though this was a joint operation with the Hellions, and he could hardly miss out on one of those. It was a bonus that this came as the opportunity for some on the job training for the company's latest batch of naval academy graduates.

There had been some scant information about this 'Sith Covenant', and almost none of it indicated a particularly large naval force. Now that intel could have been wrong or even outdated, but showing up with a smaller force gave them a few advantages. One, it didn't tip their hand in regards to their naval capabilities, it was considerably more cost effective, and of course it gave them a chance to give these new recruits their baptism by fire. Strill's force was the company standard low threat task force, a cruiser leading two frigates with four corvettes providing escort.

The ships were shiny and new, the last batch of older generation vessels produced at the company's shipyards. About as new as the crews that were crewing them. Neither had seen battle yet. Simulated, yes. Real, visceral battle? No. Not yet. It was only because of the importance of the operation, and that he was here to make sure everything went smoothly. He was here only to observe and intervene only if things were going to haran, ideally step in before things even got there. After all, this job was important, a chance for a foothold in such a wealthy sector was credits they'd be idiots to refuse.

Even between the Hellions and their forces, there weren't enough ships to cover the whole convoy, even though their PD coverage was pretty shabla wide. Baltan Kyrr was a good lad, a promising commander, one way or another the events of the day would be the judge of just how promising that was. Almost as if on cue, the tactical display lit up contacts and a moment later Baltan's rookie operations officer did as he had been trained to and called it out, "Alor'ad, incoming contacts. Sensor signatures match boarding pods."

"Let the PD net handle it, we're not slowing down pace, the faster we're out of here the better," came Baltan's crisp response. "Any word from the Hellions?"

"Elek, alor'ad, patching it through now," came the swift response from the young kiffar member of clan Netra.

:: Strill, this is Retail. Contact has been made. Boarding pods incoming. ::

Nyles smiled to himself as the transponder ID of the voice on the other end resolved; Hellions Marshal Commander Jas Katis . Strill and the Hellions had sent thousands of Imps screaming to their deaths in the cold void of space at Mon Cala, and now they were going to do the same to the Dar'jetii here. While he had stayed on the company's lead vessel for the operation, Jas had elected to station his Hellions on the Tapani vessels themselves.

"Patch me in, ad'ika," Nyles said a moment after the message had finished playing. A green 'connection established' alert flashed in the corner of his HUD, "Retail, this is Strill, acknowledged, we are engaging."

Nyles watched Baltan as he stood by the 'Manda' battlenet interface. The module on Baltan's command ship was fresh, new, it didn't know how much advice and analysis Baltan preferred and so it had merely highlighted the pirate vessels on the edge of the convoy that were herding the new arrivals in. Nyles wanted to see if Baltan had reached the same conclusion and so he wasted no time in prompting him, "Why haven't you engaged those vessels on the edge of our perimeter, ad'ika?"

"Based on their movements, alor, those ships seem to be forcing the stragglers into the main convoy. Which means, they're either leading us into a trap or I sure haran shouldn't have passed those convoy defense classes," he answered without hesitation, adding the last quip dryly. "I pity the shabuire who think they've pulled a trap on us."

"Alor'ad, one of the enemy vessels is hitting the convoy hard! Sensors indicate a heavy disruptor weapon," called out Baltan's operations officer. Nyles glanced at the main tactical display It was a little freighter. Well armed, but not especially so, despite the massive disruptor sensor scans seemed to indicate it had. Overzealous commander overplaying their hand? With this lot that seemed quite possible.

"Well, send it to haran, we'll play this game as long as we don't lose any of the convoy," snapped Baltan. "Weapons, lock a Assault Grade Tbarsr-B-class Guided Baradium Cluster Missile. Keep them busy with PD fire" Nyles could appreciate this plan. Keep them bracketed with PD fire and then hit them with missiles while their maneuvering room is limited. The grin on his face grew wider, however, as he saw the order go out across the 'Manda' for the whole formation to charge their main batteries. It remained to be seen now who was being led into a trap.

"Well done, ad'ika, there may just be hope for you yet," remarked Nyles. The deck rumbled as the massive missiles were magnetically accelerated out of their launch tubes and appeared as holographic representations on the tactical display moments later. Their low sensor signatures made them difficult for even the launching warship to track, but Nyles could see the missiles take up a rough formation, precisely as they were programmed to do on salvo active homing guidance mode.

Were he the formation commander, he could ill-afford the catharsis of watching the missiles along their flightpath. A rare and short lived luxury, but one well worth it. Especially when he could see that the next generation seemed to be well on their way to securing their future.

Action Breakdown

• The HC-01 Tra'phatir-class Heavy Cruiser Kad Ha'rangir b' Phatir's 'Araniik' Point-Defense System attempt to bracket Rixa 's ship in to reduce maneuvering room, but naturally also to score hits.
• A Tbarsr-B-class Guided Baradium Cluster Missile was launched at Rixa 's ship. Each missile carries ten concussion missile-sized baradium missile submunitions and has a very small sensor profile. The host missile provides Dedicated Energy Receptor Projector and Full-spectrum Distortion Projector electronic warfare support for its submunitions against the target(s) once deployed.
• All ships formation-wide are charging their main batteries.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

OBJ: 1

THEME​

The sabers clashed with a loud hiss as Ignati’s burning eye glared into the Jedi’s. They locked blades, pushing into one another, neither giving ground. Ignati let out a yell and rammed his shoulder into the Jedi knocking him back. One of the guards took the opportunity to charge him with a spear. Letting out a loud battle cry.

The burning apprentice shifted to the side just dodging the spear so it missed vitals in between the plates, but he did get a deep gash over his ribs. He let out a pained yell as he grabbed the spear pulling the guard closer and rammed his head into the bridge of the guard’s nose. A crack echoed as his bloodied face fell back onto the hard floor smacking the back of his head.

The Jedi came back with flourishes, pushing Ignati back towards the wall before coming in with another strike. The saber scorching his breastplate but leaving little damage. Ignati surged forward driving his shoulder into the gut of the Jedi, a yell leaving his throat as he carried his opponent towards a pillar with a loud crash.

The jedi let out a groan of pain as his breath left him. Ignati let him drop to his knees before he slammed his armored knee into the Jedi's temple once, twice, the third time cracking the pillar and shattering its base as the Jedi dodged. Ignati grabbed his saber slinging it towards the Jedi in strong surges, horizontal, vertical and angles. He was beginning to overwhelm the Jedi. A couple heavy cracks to the head will do that.

Another guard came to rush him as the Jedi attack and Ignati pulled the guard past him and into the Jedi’s saber. A guttural scream left the guard as the blade sauterized his guts, Then Ignati unceremoniously ripped the guard back his body sliding across the floor into the other guards who were now too afraid to run in.

The crimson blade of fire met with the Jedi’s emerald blade over and over, flourishes and guards deflecting their blows. The Jedi was starting to get tired, Ignati could taste it.

As he came in for another strike the Jedi faked an attack and changed angles knocking Ignati’s saber out of his hand and circling for another attack, thinking he won. Ignati grabbed his blade. He growled at him, the sound like a boulder tumbling down a mountain. He pressed more force into the Jedi’s blade.

“You will not take me!”

For a split second he saw…His face. The face of the Jedi who took his home. His grip tightened over the blade as he let out a yell. Not a primal one like before, not of rage. No, this was a scream of internal suffering that had built for years. The blade began to arc with slight electricity as the Jedi tried to hold his ground.

“Stop! We can help you!”

The Jedi began to plead, and Varin let out another yell that seemed to rattle the room. The emerald blade flickered as he pushed his weight harder into it before…

The handle of the Jedi’s saber started to crack.

“I would have you all die! Suffering at my hand! Your banners burn under me!”

The cracks deepened as the green crystal inside began to pulse and flicker.

A violent growl ripped through his throat as he pressed further. The emerald crystal now began to absorb his rage, its color deepening to a red hue reflected in Varin’s eyes before the handle finally snapped, the crystal bursting sending both duelists flying back. Varin’s back impacted the wall hard leaving cracks while the Jedi was flung towards the stairs.

Varin slowly stood back up, the wings flexed as he walked closer. The Jedi starting to crawl away.

“What have you done?!”

His words fell on Varin’s deaf ears. The galaxy was about to have one less Jedi as he unholstered his mace. The Jedi’s breathing started to become erratic.

“What…What are you?!”

Varin did not answer. He lifted his mace and with a final yell slammed it down over the Jedi’s chest. A wet crunch was the last sound to escape his body. The last of the guards watched in horror and fear before the heated tendrils from his back found them, suffocating their lungs and burning their flesh as he slowly walked up the stairs, the deep gash over his ribs bled until the heat of his body cauterized his wound, the blood that trailed behind him sizzled on the stone flooring. The respirator of his suit now damaged.

He made his way to the smell of fear that was not far away. The Patriarch was next.

Acier Moonbound | Neriah Calven | Arris Windrun | Ghruna​

 

[Olana]

Location: Construction Site - Sheva’s Moon
Attire: Construction Outfit
Objective: Real Work
Tag: Kirie Skael the Patient Riffraff Ranat

Thus far, Olana felt like she was doing a good job at making herself look busy around the construction site. For the most part, her work had involved going over blueprints with Riffraff Ranat , tinkering with the loader droids, and of course, “encouraging” the prisoners to work harder. It was unconventional work for a seer like herself, but the Seseli was not above getting her hands dirty for a pay day.

Like the purple-furred Ranat, Olana had dressed for the part in practical work attire, complete with an orange hardhat adapted to fit the halo-shaped horn that crowned her head. Although it felt risky leaving her chronoceptive corona exposed at a work site, she knew that should any danger manifest in the currents of probability, the toroidal sensory organ would warn her far in advance so that she could escape from the potential trouble before it occurred.

"Heya Skael, think that Olana is joining us sometime."

“I’m here!” Olana piped up a few moments later in a light and airy tone, her piercing, fuchsia-hued gaze scanning over the assembled group as she arrived. Her eyes first shifted towards the bird as they (she was not an ornithologist capable of identifying a bird’s gender at a glance) issued a loud screech. She offered the creature a slight wave, hoping that they weren’t hungry enough to make a meal of her. Being quite small in stature, she sensed that it would be a relatively trivial task for the avian to dig its talons into the meat of her shoulders before carrying her off to some faraway nest.

Although, maybe that fear was her speciesism speaking.

Regardless, Olana supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to offer food.

“I have some bantha beef jerky.” Olana said, before drawing the unopened packet from her back pocket and offering it to the avian. “Feel free to take as much as you’d like.” She added.

From there, Olana swept her gaze towards the brunette Near-Human woman, eyes taking in the runic spirals tracing along her neck and the red sigil bag slung over her shoulder. Realizing that she wasn’t one of the prisoners, the Seseli offered her a small flicker of a smile, before noting her light frame and slightly labored breathing.

Maybe she needed the bantha beef jerky more than the bird did.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Construction Outfit
  
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Miscellaneous Equipment and Personal Effects
    
    • Rebreather Mask - Aesthetic
• PaE-400 “Pathblaster” Battle Pistol
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Ammunition
    
    • Tibanna Gas Canister (4)
    • Power Cell (4)

 

[Rixa]

With sensors fully powered, they could now see the heavy vessels scattered amongst the convoy.

"Mando ships," Volo grunted, "by the shape of em."

"Well, send it to haran, we'll play this game as long as we don't lose any of the convoy," snapped Baltan. "Weapons, lock a Assault Grade Tbarsr-B-class Guided Baradium Cluster Missile. Keep them busy with PD fire"

"Missile lock. Incoming torps cap'n!" called Volo.

"Sial, give me SLAM!"

Rixa pushed the ship, causing parts of the cockpit to rattle at the acceleration.

The mirialan was already at the ECM controls. They didn't have great budgets, but what they had was field experience. They didn't require board-level approach to deploy a new upgrade to their systems, just time and enthusiasm.

"They're active guidance!" she shouted. Rixa changed the engines to maneuvering with low signature.

Volo transferred the turret controls to his station.

The ship shook. Cluster rounds struck the dorsal hull.

"That sounded worse than a paint job!" Rixa shouted, before swearing. "Get me a target!"

---

A freighter broke hard from the convoy, engines flaring as it tried to run for its own hyper jump.

Rixa did not hesitate. Keeping her distance from the convoy she splashed it with ion fire and left dead in space.

"Loudspeaker!" Rixa demanded as she drew alongside.

The freighter's comms would be dead. External arrays would be shielded but if Ion fire took away the main power, they definitely burned out the comms.

Their solution was to launch a small probe that attached to the hull of the freighter and pumped sound right into the hull. A simple, robust radio signal allowed Rixa to talk to them directly.

"This is Red Rixa, put down your arms and no one will be hurt during this transition of ownership! I doubt you fuckers even get medical!"

The Wayward Star surged alongside in a wash of thruster burn. Magnetic clamps bit. Metal screamed.

Two armed drones floated next to the hatch. They didn't have much firepower, but carried flashbangs and had enough shielding to create a few seconds of glorious chaos.

The door slid open and the drones zipped through the breach in a storm of sparks and gunfire.

Rixa was already moving.

She rushed in, boots hitting hard as she rolled through the smoke. Her revolver came up first, barking twice. Two guards dropped before they finished raising their rifles.

She spun, blade flashing free in the same motion. Steel sang as she vaulted a crate and stabbed straight on. The blade cut right into a man's belly.

The last guard she could see turned his rifle towards her. She whipped her revolver under the embedded sword and fired.

Rixa put a round through his leg. She had to yank the sword free by pressed her knee into the guard in front of her. The sword came free with an ugly crack of breaking cartilage.

The rest froze.

She straightened slowly, smoke curling around her, revolver loose in one hand, sword resting on her shoulder.

She grinned.

“Alright,” she said lightly. “That was the exciting bit.”

She glanced around at the stunned crew, at the crates stacked wall to wall, at the blinking alarms.



“Now,” Rixa continued, voice calm as a tavern drawl, “you’re going to open the hold, hand over the haul, and we’re all going to walk away breathing.”

The man at her feet hissed a gurgling breath.

"Probably not him."

Her eyes flicked to the bodies, then back to them.

“Make it easy. I’ve already had my fun. Any questions?"

"Is that... A sword?"

"Any questions that aren't stupid? No? In which case bring my associates the manifest."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Objective Two
The Covenant's answer to rising food costs
The Siegemother

Mercy | Naniti
Nyles Kote ​

Lysander didn’t answer right away, but his mind was already turning, words settling and being tested from multiple angles. Korriban hadn’t been all blood and field work for him.. far from it. He was placed in House Derriphan for another reason. Philosophy, political diplomacy, the very mechanics that decided who bled and why long before sabers were ever ignited.

He tried to meet it with experienced learned elsewhere.. through debate, observation, places where decisions were made before violence followed. Being but a few wasn’t a philosophy to Lysander. This was a logistical fact. He’d seen it play out across too many worlds to pretend otherwise. Four years burned the lesson in clearly. But the ‘many’ were always necessary, whether they were called allies, assets, or.. something uglier. Something more honest. Pretending otherwise was how plans collapsed.

Relying on them wasn’t a weakness. Failing to account for them.. yeah, that was.

His attention drifted to the projection, then back.. less to study it than to let his thoughts settle. He was still aware of Naniti nearby, but didn’t look at her yet. One glance was all it took for someone to misread it as alignment, dependency, maybe something else.

First strike. First in. Last out. The point where consequence began?

The Togruta's answer clicked into place immediately. What she stated was what came after control failed. Lysander didn’t need to agree with it to respect it.. and he did.

A slow breath was let out through the nose; his shoulders eased. “She’s not wrong. If an ally becomes a problem you can’t control, then removing them before they interfere is the cleanest, or more efficient solution. But that’s not where we start. Before it ever gets that far, we should narrow their role. Give the pirates one direction. Just one job, and no room to get clever. We don’t need them loyal.. just boxed in.”

His tone never changed. “If they stay useful, we use them. If they don’t, then we stop pretending they’re allies at all.”

With that, he fell silent.

 

[Anet Raine]

OBJECTIVE THREE
Tags: Riffraff Ranat | Kirie | Skael the Patient | Olana

On Sheva's Moon, the half-arkanian joined Riffraff's crew.

<: "I just arrived." :> Kirie sent, after erasing the part of the message that had originally read 'it sucks down here'.

Her device buzzed.

<: "im waiting at the site, hbu?" :> She replied, then added. <: "no idea where the ranat is" :>

Anet was at the wrong site.

It didn't take her long to realize. She managed to hitch a ride on a speeder and joined the others in a short time, but not before they had a chance to engage without her.

When she did arrive, it looked like Riffraff and Kirie were joined by one other... and a... is that a...

"A bird?" She asked aloud. "Sorry - I didn't realize Sheva's moon had indigenous life."

Naturally, she spoke and acted as if Skael were a nonsapient creature, at least by humanocentric standards (deeply ironic).

Anet crossed her arms and wore a frustrated brow above a pair of eyes that darted between them all, but mostly upon the bird.

"Well, what am I here to do?"

She looked at the raw materials, unconvinced that Riffraff expected the three of them to participate in construction work. Then again, she looked at Olana's attire and thought herself, perhaps, incorrect. "Oh no." It wasn't a joke.

Manual labor.

"Ugh." It wasn't a sound she made, it was just... the way she felt, and how she carried herself. This task filled her with disgust. Not because she failed to see its essentialness to the Covenant's plans, but because she - an acolyte, and a historian at that - had been assigned to it. Under the orders of a genetically engineered ranat no less.

And then there was the bird. Why did that make it worse? It just did. Something was off about that bird, and everything in the Force said that offness would be revealed in a matter of seconds.

 

[Kirie]

Location: Sheva's Moon, Tapani Sector
Tag: Skael the Patient | Riffraff Ranat | Anet Raine | Olana

Why was there a bird?

She could have sworn there was nothing and nobody around when she had crept behind the stack of duracrete to send her message, and then, she had turned her head and then:

Bird.

The creature was perched on the stones, regarding fixedly her with a single yellow eye. It was a big one, the kind she used to see riding the thermals in the valleys on Weik, looking for little animals to catch and eat. It didn't seem dangerous now, but then again, where had it come from? The moon was supposedly barren and lifeless. Did it belong to another Sith?

She began to creep away from the bird carefully, her boots crunching against crushed moon rock. Maybe if she didn't spook it...

"Birds require sustenance to perform well, miss."

Great. She was losing her mind. This was just perfect. She stared at the bird, eyes wide, waiting for it to vanish into a puff of smoke or waver like a mirage. Instead, it strutted towards her with purpose and fixed its amber glare on her again. Kirie resisted the urge to reach out and touch the thing, but she didn't need to, she could smell it, and hear the scrape of its talons against the zone. It was a real talking bird.

"Give the bird a peanut or a cracker. I promise he will be very thankful."

Kirie blinked, looking very nervous all of a sudden.

'Oh...' she signed, the little droid that always floated beside her translating her signs into slightly robotic speech. Sign language translated into Basic for the benefit of a talking bird. That had to be a Galactic first. 'I- I don't have any... Crackers.' Kirie's shoulders sagged. She was gonna get eaten by a bird. '...Or a peanut. Maybe I could try to find one?'

<: "Waving at you" :>

Oh thank the Stars. Rescue. She jerkily turned away from the feathered creature and began walking as casually towards the Ranat who was waving at them in... A construction uniform? This was becoming a very confusing outing. Worse still, the rustle of feathers behind her confirmed her worst fear: that the big talking bird was coming with her.

By the time she had been joined by Anet and Olana, Kirie had just about had enough. Her arms were tightly crossed, and she was standing as far as she could manage from the rest of their group of misfits. The only small mercy was that Olana offered the creature, Skael, some food, which hopefully meant it would leave her alone.

"Right, ok. I've been given express permission to oversee this dig-site. Yous all are wizard types right? We've got a lot of raw materials, which is a good start but before we start piecin' chit together we've gotta make space for a foundation. This'n shaping up to be a fethin big warehouse."

'You cannot be serious.' Kirie signed. She squeezed her eyes shut and massaged her temples, where a massive headache had recently lodged itself. She looked to Anet, searching for help, then dragged her gaze back to Riffraff, who evidently was anything but a fellow Acolyte.

'I am not building a warehouse.'

 

[Vestra Tane]

TAPANI SECTOR
ABOARD THE LAST LAUGH
OBJECTIVE 2
TAGS: Karok | Jas Katis
Equipment: The Hex Grip | Ashin's Glove | Lightsaber | Lightfoil | Rebreather | Armorweave Coat | Disruptor Pistol

Blasterfire.

A jet of brilliant, orange-red fire leapt from the Sith's hand. She twirled the golden hilt from which it shone, and deflected the oncoming assault, keeping bolts of plasma from boiling her blood and melting her flesh. At the same time, she moved. Simple, small, efficient motions that turned direct hits into grazing blows and near-misses.

Parry. Deflect. Sidestep. A few shots grazed her, or burned her through her coat. Blaster deflection was not her forte; she was passable, but for clearing hallways full of disposables she preferred more direct methods. Like...

A grenade, all sleek and military looking, bumped against her boot.

Like that.

The Sith closed her eyes and kicked the grenade back in the direction it came from. She heard a boom, although when she'd opened her eyes she was looking to the Acolyte who'd tagged along. And judging by all the gore...

The kid was doing fine. Vestra whistled.

" Which way?"
He questioned.

The Sith gestured with her lightsaber. Down the hallway, there would be more soldiers to slaughter...and their commander. She wanted a crack at him. The rest, the acolyte could take. The more mayhem, the better. She communicated as much through the Force, and then bolted towards the enemy.

​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Objective One- Life Day
Tags: Valephor Crokell | Open​

Noting his stammer, the way that his eyes lingered and general distracted state, the woman might have chided him. Valephor rallied though and managed to provide necessary information without too much undue pause. She'd need to address his fawning at some point, if only to ensure it suitably inspired him to hone his craft further. For now though, A'Mia knew time was of the essence.

The neti wasn't a mind reader, but in proximity like this, sometimes she could sense the shape of an idea and frankly had a plan already in mind that was adjacent to what she thought the boy might put forth. With her, she'd brought a potent analgesic-anesthesia combination drug that was suitable for aerosol delivery. They'd need to assess the situation before use though, as she'd loathe wasting the stuff if their targets weren't suitably contained within a room small enough.

Nodding as if her mind was made up, she continued to direct them onward.

"We address the nearest group of children first."

She bent to be at eye level with him, clearly wishing to drive home a serious point.

"The culling of this family is strategic, and it needn't be wasteful."

A'Mia didn't ask if he was willing to partake, it was expected and his superiors within the Covenant had made their orders clear. She was merely instructing him on a way to make the most of the situation.

"Take this," she pressed one of the phrik punch daggers still wet with blood into his grasp and turned to guide them onward.

They crept like shadows through then next section of servant's quarters which were unusually barren, likely due to the festivities occurring downstairs. As was often the case in families of nobility, many of the youngest were sectioned off into their own little dining area with a few scant attendants to make sure they were well behaved. It allowed the whelps to practice the decorum expected of them without disturbing the peace of their parent's festivities. A'Mia got the lay of that room from behind a closed door using a different Sithspawn, one that perfectly resembled a flower but had an alarmingly humanoid looking eye at the center, which could creep through the narrowest crack.

For the first time, the Professor reached out to touch his mind with hers. Speaking directly to his psyche without the need for sound. It was a cold, uncanny sensation and a very real reminder that the neti was sentient in a way that differed wildly from most humanoids.

We find any that are Force sensitive and leave them alive, all else are forfeit. My pets will caretake their remains for later use.
​

Then she accessed a simple control panel along the wall and used one of her vining hair tendrils to complete a very rudimentary override of the central air system. At the same time, she handed off a lightweight breath mask to her student. It seemed Valephor's initial assumptions about her unique respiration had been correct, as she didn't equip herself with anything of the kind. A'Mia let the aerosol do its work for nearly two minutes, content to wait in silence. They were disrupted only once but a drunk man that shuffled down the hallway and was just as quickly silenced, then devoured by her shambling vine.

A'Mia nodded, then the door clicked and hissed open. The room before them was a strange scene indeed. Youth of various ages dressed in their Life Day finest, a few adult servants, all of them sprawled wherever they'd been when the drugs were pumped into the room, all of them fast asleep. All save for one, a teen boy with a shock of red hair who cried out in sleepy surprise, defiance etched in every line of him.

"It seems we have a likely suspect for Force sensitivity," A'Mia commented mildly as she drifted into the room, door hissing closed behind them.

"Acolyte, confirm."

A'Mia commanded, absentmindedly releasing the rest of her dozen shambling Sithspawn into the room. The beasts held eerily still, awaiting her orders.

 

[Riffraff Ranat]

Objective 3: Real Work
Tapani Sector
Sheva's Moon
Construction Site
Tags: Olana | Skael the Patient | Kirie | Anet Raine

A laugh like a coughing growl left her throat as she turned to regard the gaggle of Acolytes. The Academy certainly hadn't sent their best, but that was to be expected, given the bloodshed happening elsewhere.

"Y'hear that, Skael? They think yer ingenious," she teased incorrectly.

Clawed hands akimbo, blueprints rolled and clenched into one tiny fist, the purple ranat looked them all up and down with clear judgement written across her fuzzy face. The appearance of Olana softened her visage slightly and the woman made room for her on the small crate she was standing on, so the shorter of their group could be eye level with those taller. Raising her voice so that the other, non Sith student workers could also hear, Riffraff began speaking.

"Right, Olana here's gonna be Chief Safety Officer. If she says jump two feet to the left, you do so and thank her while yer at it. That's beyond me to understand why or how but she's got a sense for these things and I'd trust my fething life on her instinct. All yous without fancy powers, you'll keep hauling and moving things into the piles we already discussed, soon enough you'll've earned a lunch break while we await these student types to do what it is they do best."

She waved a hand dismissively to the gaggle of others and turned to solely address the core group. Tilting her head in curiosity at the signing and translating droid, then her orange slitted eyes slid to regard Anet coolly. Crossing her arms she goaded.

"Oh c'mon, you sayin' yer afraid of puttin' your weird little magic tricks to use on some actual work. Are we gonna have a problem? You too good for digging out the ground for a foundation? Cuz that's first, and if you're not willing to give it a go I can always make sure Mercy gets my report stating as much."

The ranat was bluffing of course, she'd only really taken jobs from Lysander thus far, but they didn't know that and she'd gathered enough info to know Mercy was one of the baddest bosses she could invoke.

 

[Tibera Jessen]

Location: "Mercy's End" Starport, Tapani sector.
Objective II: The Corral
Tags: Gillem

Plasma rained down from all directions, and it wasn't just from The Covenant forces coming in! Were some of their mercs turning coat?! So far it looked like simple case of stray fire doing a hell of a lot of damage. Then, the plasma bolt from the tower hit some of the artillery racks. Tibera squinted her eyes, she couldn't make out anything in the tower.

Cripes, this was turning into one seriously kriffed up mission... She would need to make her way up to the top of the tower and stop whatever was happening up there. She screamed a few times for the tower shooter to stop, but it didn't seem they were going listen.

"Of-fething-course I'm going to have to climb this piking tower! I didn't have enough kriffing chit to deal with!"

What made it all worse was, she had to fight her way to the tower. She ran from cover to cover, blasting covenant soldiers with her handcannon! A squad of Covenant regulars were in her way, so she took aim and fired. A verpine shatter dart of pure steel ripped through the first man, then another tore through a helmet. She wasn't a marksman, she just had the drop on them! When they returned fire, she dove behind a wrecked convoy hovertank.

She was pinned down, stuck between a sniper's scope and a gang of Sith soldiers, she gave a grunt before reaching for her grenade belt. She grabbed a thermal detonator and pressed the shiny red arming button. Beeps filled the air before she tossed it into the midst of the enemy.

it rolled for a moment before exploding with a fiery whoosh, Tibera covered her ears rather than listening to the burning men scream. Her anxiety spiked as the explosion sent all manner of things flying into the air. Just gotta keep your head in the game Tibera, don't get psyched out yet! With her mind set on the right path, she started a long sprint to the base of the tower!

She ran as fast as she could in full kit, but things were weighing her down, keeping her in the eyes of the sniper. Was he going to shoot her. could she even survive a hit from that rifle? Tibera didn't know, but she wasn't keen on finding out!

Whatever was going to happen, this was going to end soon! All she had to do was ascend the tower, chin up, just keep pushing! A glint of a scope made Tibera dive for cover, was that the sniper?! She had no idea, but it was better to be safe than dead...