Junction Where It All Will End | ME & THR Junction of Ewdenen and Thyferra

[Allyson Locke]

//: Ala Quin //:
//: Attire //:

Before

Allyson pulled a small handkerchief from her jacket and dropped it over the spilled wine. It was surprising to startle someone like Ala; the woman was often more connected to her environment than any Jedi she knew.

Though the look in her eyes and the box that was open, holding a much larger tunic, told the Corellian Spy enough.

Her face softened as she listened to the panic in the Jedi's voice. At any other time, this might have been more welcoming. It seemed her reputation preceded her. Allyson took a moment, allowing Ala to try to find her lightsabers. The Shadow was confident she wasn't going to attack, but having one's lightsaber felt safe.

"Mm, Force works in mysterious ways, doesn't it, Ala?" Another cheeky grin as Allyson straightened up from the brief cleaning. Her eyes flickered back to the box, then to the others, and she paused. Was this the result of something more? Allyson finally ignored the boxes and kept her attention on Ala.

"Didn't expect to surprise you, I guess I've gotten better." She continued to smile, only letting it fade slightly as she could see the panic.

"I'm…" Allyson paused, trying not to look too deeply into her reaction, "...not here to kill you or on mission."

Allyson stepped back to give Ala some breathing room. While the Corellian was the type to remain close to those she was fond of, this time seemed to need a different type of support.

"Just had a feeling you're needing a friend..." Her eyebrows raised, "Or maybe a distraction?"

​

Present

The answer to her question was straightforward. She sensed that the Jedi wasn't much in the mood for the shenanigans of the Corellian. Allyson looked away as she focused on the craft's maneuvering. It was an old thing; she had suggested other models, in particular her own starfighter — but Ala seemed pressed for the relic. A small smirk curled at her lips as she wondered if there was a semblance of kinship with it.
Allyson could understand that.

The one thing she really couldn't understand was the constant prodding through the force. Something was unsettling for the Grandmaster; Allyson could feel it. Every so often, she felt the woman's presence wash over her, searching, trying to pinpoint something. The poking only elicited pain from the hidden cracks on the Corellian's flesh, the sign of the unholy binding she had participated in. Her eyes flickered as the most recent reach from the Jedi subsided.

"You're not going to find what you're looking for," Allyson finally said as she looked at the woman. She already had a feeling of what Ala wanted to know. Someone who often trusted her gut — Allysn's presence would never allow that to be a comfort for her. Her shoulders rolled back as she relaxed.

"You're just going to have to trust me… I'm sure Valery warned you… But in the end, even she trusted." Allyson sighed softly as she let her attention return to the navigation computer. Trust was something hard to come by, even for a Jedi. In recent times, the Sith threatened at all reaches of the Galaxy — there was no peace for the scattered light.

"How do you feel about the Mandalorian alliance the Senate dragged you all into?" She questioned, more out of curiosity. Allyson wasn't privy to the details, but not seeking their aid meant this was either off the record or that Ala didn't trust them.

"The Laboratory, what are we looking for exactly… You were vague earlier — but while I'm a fan of diving headfirst into something… I like a little heads up of what I'm dealing with."

 

[Shokoh al Khayyat]

Tryvge Hakon | Novac Lyrikal | Riya Pashen | Marlon Sularen | Aether Verd ​

"Very well," was all she said in response to Senator Hakon, flickering out in a holographic haze. She was hoping her Sirocco ships could keep the worst of the heat off of the shuttles, so that they could get as many people in and out as possible.

Black-slitted pupils rose to the transparisteel bridge window, watching TIE variants chase her N1 fighters, then disappear in a flash of white-hot atomic fire as they get lead into the effective range of the Republic's anti-fighter Fulgers, pushing slowly into the asteroid field. Like frogs snaping their tongues out at flies, crimson lasers flicked out from each ship in formation and snatched Imperial ships right out of the airspace.

"Jedi Knight Lyrikal, this is Captain Khayyat, and I'm glad to see you," she purred into a holocommunicator, watching the Jedi's serpentine figure fizzle into view. Republic reinforcements were a more than welcome sight. "Your skills would best be put to use at Kolene Spaceport. We have hammers on-station right now, and are in desperate need of a scalpel. Lieutenant Pashen went in a minute ago and I lost contact with her team; lend her (or whatever's left of her) your swords and see what you can do about securing the civilians on-station. My Sirocco escort ships will keep Imperial fighters off of your frigate."

The MIV First Blood cast a shadow on her from its forward position, and she made sure to watch its rear. It really didn't do to bite the hand that fed you. Especially since they were so kind as to soak up the bulk of enemy fire. Every single one of those Mandalorians is going to want glory, so every single one of them is going to effectively provide a screen of bodies for her own fighters. It was, in her estimate, a win-win.

The Corellian fleet was here as well, but they were just more blue-blooded humans so far as she cared. From what she'd about the goings-on in the Corellia sector, though, she was more than happy to let the lot of them get their licks in. They had a more than mutual enemy, and they were the closest things that Shokoh had to friends at the moment.

"What does the Republic database have on the Sularen's Revenge? Estimated crew? Armaments? Fleet composition? Auxiliaries?"

"Not much, sir," Said a clone at her right, "We have some information on the early-production Agitator-class from the old New Imperial Order, but next to nothing on Marlon's flagship."

"It'll do. Pull it up at my console."

She whirled on her heel, talons clicking on the polished floor, and dropped into the soft chair at her command seat. They were human chairs; her digitigrade legs rested awkwardly against it, skimming through the incomplete writeup on the enemy flagship. Clawed fingertips clicking on the keyboard in front of her, and she mulled it over. The Agitator-class had a dizzying armament; trying to get in close was just asking to lose resources and for no reason. Staying far out wasn't an option either. It didn't have weak points as much as it had merely lower lethality points.

A droid's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Incoming transmission."

"Put it on."

She had hoped it was from the Mandalorians, and thought it obvious that it would be, but was not expecting the smug face of Marlon Sularen projected in holographic blue on her screen. She would never not be amazed by the way that Imperials can posture for superiority and play victim at the same time.

Khayyat knew better than to argue, than to get into a debate, she knew better. But she thumbed a button on the console in front of her to keep the open channel raised and contact alive with Sularen. The flickering holo-table cast long, dancing shadows across her bone mask. Her voice, a low rasp that vibrated in the throat, cut through the digital static.

"Marlon Sularen, your name has enough war crimes attached that I'd still have a book to throw at you if I kept it single spaced, size six. You annulled your right to surrender two failed empires ago; there is no scenario in which you get what you want and go home. Start categorizing people, and you're not looking at a paycheck, or extradition, or a safe trip back home.

You'll get what every other fairweather fascist gets: a skull full of bone shards, two lungs full of blood, and a grave full of you."

She closed the line with a snarl, and instead pulled up an encrypted channel to the Mandalorian fleet, and to any Mandalorian willing or able to listen, a fuzzy blue hologram of a Kaleesh woman growled into their commpiece. She steadied her voice.

"This is Captain Khayyat of the High Republic Dreadnought Space General. Lend me an ear."

Her attention flicked back to her model of the Agitator-Class pulled up on her console, rheumy yellow eyes pouring over her readout. Forward-facing heavy weapons were big and problematic for her and everybody else, but not precise enough to target fighters.

"If you're looking to make a personal impression on him, you're doing a hell of a job, but you're setting yourself up to take fire from the full suite of that super-capital bearing down on you. I'm sending out a flight of bombers, numbering forty-eight souls in total," well, they were clones, so the souls were in question, "If we blow out the engines, they'll have to abandon their several-trillion-credit flagship in transports if they want to escape, and be sitting ducks for your long-range weapons if they try to tough it out. I need Mandalorian fighter support so that the bombers ever have a shot at reaching the Sularen's Revenge. You up for it?"

She had less than fifty fighters and she was doing a bombing run on a battlecruiser the size of a city. These weren't exactly winning odds, but it was what she had to work with - and if the Mandalorians decided to cooperate with her fully on this, maybe commit their own bombers to it, then all the better.

"Show me the training of the Mandalorians. The more damage we can do, the better you look. You lead the way, hit them how you like, and I'll have them form up on you."

No matter what, the glory of this fight all goes to Mandalore, and everybody was better for it. She leaned back in her chair, briefly lifting her mask to run a hand over her face, growling to herself.

Time to see what happened when the mouse catches the cat.

Spoiler: Khayyat's Forces

• 2x HRNV Dreadnoughts (the Space General and the Speaker)
  • Each Hangar: 1x N1 Suncrown Fighter squads, 2x N2 Thunderpetal Bomber squad (Deploying)
• 4x HRNV Sirocco-class Escort Gunboat
• 6x Fulger-class Escort Frigate
  • Each Hangar: 1x N1 Suncrown Fighter squad (Deployed)

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Called Jedi Knight Lyrikal to aid the fighting at Kolene
• Beefing with Sully. heart
• Contacted Mandalorian leadership (or anyone, really) with plan to bomb the engines of the Sularen's Revenge

 

[Perseus]

OBJECTIVE 1
EQUIPMENT: Protector-Type Beskar'gam | Ori Sidaki | Dral Gaan | Beskad | Euk Siha Service Knives | RIDDS
TAGS: Aselia Verd | Adonis Angelis IV ] | Camille Cendre | Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr | Shokoh al Khayyat | Riya Pashen | Zoro Igala | Ronhar Tane | Marlon Sularen | Itzhal Volkihar
​

The Shuttle slammed into the ground. The impact was hard on the surface. The jolt physically acting like a reset button for my mind. The anticipation fled as soon as adrenaline surged through my veins. Breathing deeply with open lungs one last time before the door fell open. Blaster fire slamming into the vessel and into the chestplate of my armor. Knocking me flat on my ass. Lungs fighting for air and my head dazed. Ringing echoed in my ears from the impact alone. The voice in my head screaming at me.

MOVE! MOVE! YOU NEED TO MOVE!

Rolling to my side. Grunting hard through gritted teeth as I pushed up with my hands. Looking to my side to see the rifle on the ground. Head lifting up to see blaster and small arms weapon fire directed at the vessel and others coming out. From this prone position, I grabbed the rifle and brought it to my shoulder. Taking some kind of aim just to send hate down range and to maybe suppress those who kept their heads above cover or concealment. The rhythmic crack-crack-crack of the Ripper blasting round after round out to the Imperial forces. Feeling the recoil of the weapon into my shoulder with each round firing off.

After laying down some fire, I moved into a crouched standing position. Moving slowly forward to a fallen comrade. Using his armored form as some kind of concealment. Making my profile smaller despite my fallen Mandalorian. A smoking hole in his throat. No noises came from him even as I laid the weapon across his chest and used it as a stable position to fire from. Laying down more firing. My off hand free from holding the foregrip, grabbed onto one of the thermal detonators. Arming it, mentally counting one - two, then throwing it across the distance. Seeing it land behind a group and going off.

Their bodies flying gave me enough time to stand up from my position and move forward. Rushing to the next set of cover being broken barricades that had already been there. Sliding low on my stomach instead of trying to run then lower myself. Turning the rifle over, the HUD on my helmet showed I had like five rounds left in the current magazine. Without question I pulled the old one out, replacing it with a new one and sliding the old one into a mag carrier separate from the others. Bringing the rifle back up over the barricade, Full grip on the weapon held into my shoulder before popping up and laying more fire down. Out of the side of my eye, a Saber flashing through the field with a Mandalorian clad in armor fit for a tank. Yet moved with speed that rivaled my genetically modified own. Force User. Most likely.

Adonis was clearly who it was. As he was dealing with tanks, high priority targets, he would be drawing the most fire from Imperial forces. It took nothing to understand that now he was a target, their attention was split. Once more, Grabbing a thermal detonator and throwing it the distance. A throw that almost flew across the field like a fastball and hitting through the window of a turret placement. Explosion rocking the foundation of the building and sending debris everywhere.

"PUSH!"

Letting the rifle fall to my side, held on barely by the sling, My foot steps slamming into the ground with force as a sprint even in my armor looked unnatural. I knew it was with how often I had been told as such. The speed I closed the distance by slamming my shoulder into an imperial sending him to the ground. Falling on him and sending my Kal deeply into the armpit of his left side. Piercing through to his lung and heart. With a twist and pull, I wrenched it free and rolled over to cover. My off hand drawing another Kal, waiting a moment for the hate sent my direction instead of Adonis to calm before I made another attempt to push.

 

[Novac Lyrikal]

Shokoh al Khayyat Riya Pashen

the one to respond to his message was captain shokoh. as she appeared in a blue shade novac was a little surprise to see a nonhuman, or at least something not as close to human. she quickly gave him something to do. "find and assist pashen got it thank you captain. "kairo, san for them please." the hk unit started some scans going on the spaceport. "got them, there in a fairly open area with enemy tanks shooting at them. seems their alive, for now, what shall we do sir" novac stood there for a few seconds until he said "get the sentinels in the walkers and walkers in the drop pods, im going to my ship, i got on helluva idea," he said with a mischievous grin.

tanks continued to fire apon pashen there was a sudden light, then more and more as three large drop pods began to smash into the ground. two of the pods landing on and taking out some tanks as they landed. novac morat and vulture droids followed taking out the other tanks in the area. as novac landed the vultures went back to the frigate and the drop pods opened to let out the sentinel droids who where currently in at-sw storm walkers. novac and kairo got out of their fighter and went up to the vehicle pashen was in.

"hey, heard you might need some help."

 

[Riya Pashen]

Tag: Camille Cendre Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Adonis Angelis IV Novac Lyrikal Open

Objective 1, Kolene Spaceport​

Another explosion rocked the Saber tank as the Walker's next barrage struck closer than before. "Don't stop." Riya ordered through gritted teeth as she tried to lock in for Keth to shoot. Just then she heard a voice, Mandalorian on the comms, answer her signal just as an enemy tank's turrets were misdirected. Then she spotted on the map multiple Mandalorian signals flanking the Imperials.

"Glad you can join the party!" Riya exclaimed to Adonis via comms even as gunships and fighter craft dueled above them all. Then the Walker turned its full attention to the Mandalorians, preparing to fire but the Saber interrupted with a missile. The projectile whistled before slamming into the right leg and ignited. Legless the walker collapsed sideways with a metallic cry.

Riya bellowed to Keth. "Hit 'em again!" Another missile followed, hitting the head, resulting in a violent eruption. At the sight Renn hollered from his driver's seat. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Soon however, Novac arrived with his droids in drop pods, smashing into the enemy armor and engaging. Momentarily stunned, Riya shook her head as she saw the serpent Jedi exited from his fighter approaching their tank. Coming out of the hatch Riya saluted them. "Thanks for the assist, Jedi. You and the Mandos."

Looking out to the adjacent neighborhood she added. "We gotta keep pushing. You and your droids are welcome to tag along"

Subsequently she closed down the hatch.

Their tank sped forward, blasting repeatedly at the remaining enemy armor, at the lot now being outmaneuvered by their armored allies. In the distance she saw the Mandalorian walker and blinked. That's…different. She thought before shaking her head as Keth tore through a retreating enemy tank then an Imperial speeder transport, carrying troopers.

Getting on the battlenet she received a report about a Corellian fleet arriving. Good, the more, the merrier. That admiral's speech came through she admitted it was generous but doubted most if any Imps will take it. Then the warlord's counter-boarcast came through and Riya rolled her eyes.

Renn snorted. "Never interfere with Corellia again huh? Oh sure then I'm the crown prince of Coruscant."

"Old Crabait just only said that to look justified." The lieutenant remarked before adding. "Every Imperial soldier that escapes here is another who will threaten our people in the future. Now focus on the fight, the sooner we finish it, the better."

"Copy that boss." Renn and Keth said in unison.

Just then Riya from her screen spotted something. Yards away behind the immediate frontline, she spotted blasterfire being exchanged in the buildings then in the streets as stormtroopers fan out trying to fight back against whoever attacking them in the shadows. She raised an eyebrow but didn't waste the opportunity as the tank sped forward, firing a volley that shredded through half a squad taking cover in what had been a drug store, causing the building to collapse in a cloud of dust, burying the rest.

Just then she saw several civilians come out from a corner with blasters and makeshift weapons, attacking the Imperial barricade. They took out a few but swiftly a heavy gunner with a repeater opened, wiping them out moments later. Immediately, the tank fired, atomizing the gunner and his remaining squadmates.

Then more locals started appearing, roaring, cheering and cursing as they joined the mayhem to attack their Imperial occupiers.

Riya immediately relayed the development on the comms to the channel shared by the Republic and Mandalorian forces. "All units we have civilians attacking the Imps. I repeat civilians are attacking the Imps. It's a rebellion..."

 

[Prisoner #36929]

Objetive 1
Tags: Joseph Torson | OPEN
Equipment: X​

Allied signatures flooded the local scanners as the Imperial fleet fanned out, signaling a shift in the chaotic fight. The Nagai saw his opening and pushed the Basilisk toward the mining spaceport. The radio comms hissed with Sularen's voice, a grating sermon about the immortality of the Imperial cause. The man sounded like a zealot clinging to a sinking ship. Everything dies eventually. What a knobhead, Prisoner thought, tightening his grip on the controls. He pushed the throttle forward, intent on proving the Warlord wrong.

Warning lights flashed crimson across his HUD just as the distinctive scream of TIE engines erupted from behind. A fresh squadron had boxed him in, their cannons stitching lines of energy across the dark vacuum. Prisoner jerked the steering vanes, throwing the war droid into a desperate dive beneath a jagged rock formation. The incoming fire pulverized the rock above him, showering his sensors in static and grit. He was fast, but the Interceptors were built for this kind of pursuit.

Four Imperial gunships roared past his position, banking toward the spaceport under heavy escort. Their presence signaled a ground extraction, and the thought of his prey slipping away left a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn't let them land. Thumbing the emergency frequency, he broadcast a tight-beam burst for Mandalorian reinforcement. He just needed some to clear his tail so he could hunt the bigger game.

One TIE overshot its turn, banking too wide near a cluster of frozen gas. Prisoner seized the mistake. He kicked the Basilisk's thrusters, lunging upward to meet the fighter mid-roll. The droid's massive hydraulic claws slammed into the TIE's cockpit, crushing the hull like a tin can. Glass shattered and venting atmosphere crystallized in the void as he discarded the wreckage. He banked hard, keeping his sights on the distant gunships while the remaining fighters swarmed back for blood. Reinforcements couldn't come fast enough.

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Objective: 2

Sylor

Iandre went still.

It wasn't a dramatic freeze. No wounded outrage or theatrical offense, but the warmth that had been quietly blooming in her expression retreated behind the disciplined composure she wore like a second skin. Around them, the rhythm of the relief effort continued in a relentless, mechanical cycle: crates scraping against duracrete, engines roaring in the distance, and the voices of workers struggling to stay afloat in a sea of devastation larger than any one soul could manage.

For a long, heavy moment, she simply looked at him, her gray eyes searching his visor as if trying to find the man beneath the armor. Then, her gaze drifted past him toward the jagged, fractured skyline of the city, where the dust of collapsed buildings still hung in the air days after the fire had stopped falling.

"You assume those are separate things," she said at last. Her voice was terrifyingly calm, though the softness that had bridged the gap between them earlier had vanished into the cold. "You believe that helping and questioning are mutually exclusive. That hands cannot be busy while the heart is in reflection."

She brought her eyes back to him, and the sheer weight of her gaze felt more substantial than the supplies they were hauling.

"You do not know anything about me," she stated. There was no venom in her words, no heat of anger, and somehow that made the truth of it land with the force of a physical blow. "You do not know where I have been, the sheer weight of what I have carried, or how many worlds I have stood upon that looked exactly like this one because someone convinced themselves that blind action mattered more than understanding why they were acting at all."

The Force shifted subtly around her, not as a weapon, but as a low, mournful thrum that echoed the grief slipping toward the surface of her calm.

"I have spent most of my life helping," she continued, her voice dropping to a register that was far more personal than she had ever intended to be with a stranger. "I have helped with medicine, with diplomacy, and with a lightsaber in my hand while those behind me prayed to survive long enough to see a single sunrise."

She looked down at the crate he had just set down with such finality, her jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.

"And in those years, I have learned that the people who stop questioning themselves while they are doing 'good' are the ones who ultimately leave the deepest, most permanent scars behind."

The statement lingered like smoke between them before she stepped past him. She didn't storm away, and she wasn't dismissive; she was simply finished with a conversation that had turned into an indictment.

Yet, despite the sting of his words, she did not abandon the work. As she moved toward the next cluster of supplies, a massive, damaged support beam nearby groaned and rose several inches through the Force, holding steady so that exhausted workers could secure it in place. Farther down the line, medical containers slid smoothly toward waiting hands, guided by her will so that the volunteers wouldn't have to break their stride.

She was offended, deeply so, but she remained a Jedi. She kept helping, and in that silent, tireless service, she gave him the only answer that truly mattered.

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Loadout: XC-86 Assault Commando Armor, 2x Modified SE-44c heavy blaster pistols, Lightsaber

Ship: TIE/in 'Huxian'

Spoiler

As the interceptor wove through the asteroids invisible beside the Mandalorian basilisks new contacts began to appear, at first nothing to take note of, a couple fighters here or there that were more interested in staying near their capital ship for the moment. Then came a bit of excitement as half a dozen contacts broke formation with their gunship to go after a lone basilisk rider headed for Kolene Spaceport. Kurayami wasn't in immediate engagement range and even the turrrets didn't have clear vectors of fire. Yet. They wanted an unfair fight? That was all well and good with him.

The Corellian smirked to himself as he uncapped his flask taking a few long sips through the retractable straw in his helmet. Meanwhile S3-RVO was already plotting intercept courses based on the flight pattern of the basilisk rider. "Whaddya know, even the little psychopath can be taught? Well done, Servo." Kurayami joked as he eased the throttle to full military power.

As the distance closed in little time he pulled the trigger, bright green kyber-enhanced laser fire bracketed two of the TIE fighters and one of the gunships was struck by two searing lances of composite beam laser fire. Where the shots came from was hard to place exactly with only small glimpses given as the cloak stuttered when the ship was firing. Outside of that for all intents and purposes the letal shots seemed to have come from the void itself.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Objective Three - Coronet City
Tags: Merryn Sellek | Makai Dashiell

"I shall have to seek her out then," Aurelian replied with an easy tone. "I found Commonwealth space very enticing during my stay. I am certain Ivalyn and I can find plenty of common ground." He took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze drifting momentarily to the crowd before refocusing on Merryn.

Before the conversation could pivot to ship contracts, the man who had been sizing him up from across the room finally made his move. Aurelian inclined his head toward Makai, offering a polite but guarded acknowledgement. "A pleasure," he said, purposefully omitting his own name. Since Merryn had already addressed him by his title, he felt no need to provide a formal introduction to someone who clearly knew exactly who he was.

A quick glance around the immediate area revealed no sign of a wife approaching, though the name Dashiell hit a resonant chord in his memory. "Dashiell sounds familiar," Aurelian remarked, his smile sharpening with curiosity. "What line of work are you in?"

​

 

[Sylor]

Objective - 2
Iandre Athlea
Now @Open​

Typical Jedi…

I thanked everything beneath the sky that she could not see through the visor. Beneath the helmet, only the faintest smirk touched my lips. Just quiet amusement at the exchange.

"I care little for your words," I said at last, the voice modulator reducing my tone to its usual distorted rasp. I drew in a slow breath before giving a slight shake of my head. She seemed to speak with the same certainty so many Jedi liked to carry now, as though every observation was meant to guide someone toward a lesson that they had never asked for.

Simply, it was ignorance at its finest. It was no wonder the Jedi were as fractured as they were. A quiet chuckle escaped, as I continued with the work. The time moved along well enough. I waited for a simple moment, half expecting yet another interruption wrapped in unwanted wisdom. Luckily it did not come and for that I was thankful.

 

[Camille Cendre]

Two scythes swished through the air, a pair of reapers on a killing field. The weapons had dulled and nicked over the years, becoming stained from hundreds of battles. Yet the blades cut through the metal of the enemy armour easily, the sharp points embedded deep inside to disable critical systems. The blades hungered for more.

Compared to other Mandalorian tanks, the Kosa was a relic. But it was tradition for new foundlings to pilot the coffin as their first vehicle, so they could feel the thrill of the battle up close. Camille whipped the controls around, the big walker instantly responding by severing the leg of a light walker. A twist of another control brought the second blade down on the enemy's cockpit, taking out the pilot inside. Camille felt the blood rushing through her body, the thrill of the battle and adrenaline heightening her to an unexplainable, glorious emotion.

Her euphoria was dulled somewhat as a commando appeared on her left. "We're going up top" the man said, briskly. "Helmet on, Cendre". She growled, a child-like response, but complied anyway and removed her helmet from its bracket. It was clean and shiny from disuse. She quickly tied her hair up and donned the headwear, hissing as it pressed against the burn scars on her neck. It didn't dull her mood though. Soon the battle fever caused her to forget about the annoyance of the helmet, as well as the chronic pain from the burn scars across her body.

She heard her two companions climb up the ladder and open the hatch. A moment later, the sound of blaster fire from above confirmed the two turrets on the walker's shoulder were manned.

Fighting the urge to break the Kosa into a sprint, she paused to survey the scene. Allies had arrived while she had been in her frenzy, bolstering her position and pushing back Imperial forces. Some were familiar, Adonis' and Perseus squads were engaging on the ground using jetpacks and a dropship respectively. Others were unknown but expected – her IFF identified the Republic tank pushing forward to be under command of Riya Pashen. And one was completely bizarre – a serpentine Jedi flanked by droids. A smile crept up beneath her helmet as she witnessed the chaos; the excitement inside her was building again.

She moved toward Riya's position, making sure to avoid the firing lines of her cannons. The gunners atop her walkers needed no instruction as they started opening fire on Imperial infantry. The walker moved non-stop, her blade singing out to slice away any cover that the enemy infantry sought. Nowhere was safe, she tore apart barricades and buildings alike – exposing the soldiers within. And she did it all with a fanatical smile atop her face.

Aether Verd | Adonis Angelis IV | Perseus | Riya Pashen | Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr | Aselia Verd | Amelia von Sorenn |​

 

[Zoro Igala]

Wild Space Rebellion Fleet, The Dawn of Hope
Tag: Marlon Sularen Aether Verd Amelia von Sorenn Vortigern Mimkin Shokoh al Khayyat Mance Iblis​

Fleet Comp:

Spoiler

• Hidden In the Asteroids
  
  • x1 Rebellion III Class - Corellian Defiance
  • x3 Ambush Class Interdictors
    • Looming Thunder
    • Star Wolf
    • Grand Finale
  • x4 Arcee Class Frigate Freighters Replacing these because I realized the sub's ratings were fucked up.
  • x1 MI Golem Freighter
• Deployed Starfighter Wings
  • x1 Nightfury Class X-wing Squadron
  • x7 Predator B-wing Squadrons
  • x7 Thunderstorm II Y-wing Squadrons
• Waiting off screen for deployment:
  • The Liberation
    • Hidden Interior Compliment:
      • x5 Ironback Armored Corvettes
        • Rayia
        • Aris
        • Rikutan
        • Jago
        • Azurine
      • x8 Tenacity Class Corvettes
        • Hard and Fast
        • The Wall II
        • Twin Suns
        • Capital Punishment
        • Skin in the Game
        • Fire in the Sky
        • Guerilla Warfare
        • That's No Moon
      • x2 Solo Class Frigates
        • Blackbeard
        • Whitebeard
  • x2 Ambush Class Frigates
    • Great Fox
    • Writing on the Wall
  • x2 Starlion Bomber Squadrons

"Eyes on target."

The word rang through the bridge of the Corellian Defiance from the pilot of Night Watch One and was practically music to Zoro's ears. He knew better though. Scans were telling him that the Imperial Fleet was much larger than expected, and that there was ships of all flags surrounding it. On all sides, except from behind.

He'd close that pincer soon.

For the moment, he looked over the battlefield. Natural obstacles everywhere, and yet the enemies of Sularen were somehow more numerous.

Republic ships, helmed by a captian that seemed too new for their own good. They seemed to have been taken by surprise by Sularen's Battlecruiser, and were staring it right now.

It made Zoro feel bad for what was about to happen next.

Mandalorian ships, helmed by the Manda'lor himself.

He felt significantly less bad about what he was going to do next in their case. Then again, he didn't believe for a second that the Mandalorians couldn't handle a slugfest.

"This is Admiral Mance Iblis of the Corellian Defence Force contacting all self-titled 'Imperials'. I give you one last chance to surrender yourselves and face judicial justice within Corellian courts. Refusal to power down all shields and weapons will be taken as an act of piracy and war, and punished in kind. I may not speak for the Republic, but I will personally see to it you are given a fair trial on Corellia."

"Incoming transmissions sir."

And finally, the Corellian Defense Force. A Local militia he had a deep respect for. He had trained among them as part of the Alliance, and he knew better than to underestimate them.

He prayed they were ready.

"To the forces of Corellia, the High Republic and the Mandalorian Empire, this is Supreme Commander Marlon Sularen of the Imperial Confederation. I've come here with my fleet to extract the Imperials that you have sought to suppress and exterminate. If you stand down and allow us to proceed with our extraction, then we will leave the system without doing any further damage, and you will never have to deal with any Imperial interference on Corellia ever again," Sularen began.

"Imperialism is an idea that can not and will not ever die, no matter how hard you try to hunt down and exterminate us. If any of you have any common sense, then you'd understand the futility of your operation and let us leave the system with our comrades unharmed. Defy us, and I assure you all that you will know nothing but destruction and humiliation, and leave this little confrontation empty-handed and defeated. Long live the Empire," he finished before terminating the transmission.

"Send a new message."

"Sir?"

"Relay this off the public network stations. Hide our broadcasting location, but let them know we're here."

"...aye sir."

Zoro cleared his throat as his comms officer got to work. Pinging off several public stations on Corellia, the broadcast would seem to come from the planet itself rather than the asteroid belt. No hologram came through, only a distorted voice that was only relatively recognizable as Zoro.

"To Marlon Suralen. You lie as easy as you breath, and you backstab even easier. Let it be known I have no empathy for the fall of your Confederation, and I look forward to seeing your next project fall into obscurity. So, with kind regards, Fuck The Empire."

The transmission cut suddenly, as Zoro turned to his bridge commander. "Send in the Golem. Full throttle, crash course."

"Aye!"

From the bottom east side of Sularen's flagship, The Golem Freighter emerged from the asteroid belt, heading right towards his flagship. Any attempt to ping it's cockpit was met with no response, as it careened at full power towards the battlecruiser, aimed right for the Ventral Bulb.

All the while, Zoro watched. His comms officer motioned towards him to confirm they had retrieved the pilots of the freighter after they had abandoned ship, and primed the massive cargo hold's myriad of explosives.

The fireship was on it's way.

"Comms, what's the ETA on the rest of the fleet?"

"Two minutes to real space. We'll be ready before then."

"Launch the B-wings and Thunderstorms. Prep the Hurricanes for launch for a second wave. Hit them on all sides."

"Aye!" The bridge commander turned to his microphone. "All men to battlestations! B-wing and Y-wing pilots, launch ASAP! Prep for battle!"


TLDR:

Spoiler

Located Imperial Fleet.
Engaged in some light trolling.
Fireship Cruiser sent flying towards Sully's flagship at full speed.
Launched Bombers for next round.
Prepped for incoming fleet. (Also next post.)

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Ronhar Tane
​

As Ronhar turned the corner, he was met with the sound of a grenade launcher firing.

Drego had kept his distance from conflict these days. Too busy enjoying his time with his girlfriend Minerva Fhirdiad , and training foundlings of Clan Ruus.

But every so often, he found a target worth going out for.

Drego had tracked the Warlord of Mahporeem for a while. On and off, keeping an eye on his movements. One of the former leaders of the Imperial Confederation, Ronhar seemed to make a choice that Sularen never did. Never had the balls to.

He led from the front.

That's why Drego had laid in wait. His communications with the Wild Space Rebellion had hinted at an imperial incursion, and he had tracked Ronhar to this spot. This base.

That's why a glue grenade was being fired at his leg.

That's why Drego was now barreling down at him, shield up, Battle Rifle chainsaw revving.

 

[Saltare Dothon]

INFERNO SQUAD

TAGS: Marlon Sularen Ronhar Tane Barragh Nenn Vortigern Mimkin Joseph Torson ​

---

Saltare's shield flared as it deflected blaster bolt after blaster bolt, protecting those hiding behind it. He tossed a thermal detonator over the shield toward the gunfire's origin point, waiting for the detonation to come. With a whoomp, the thermal detonator went off, stalling the fire that had actively pinned Saltare down. Salltare grabbed the individual hiding behind him and dragged him across the firing line toward the spaceport and the waiting Imperial Shuttles.

Once they crossed into the thicker defensive Imperial lines, Saltare thrust the man ahead of him and turned around, scanning where he had come from. White-clad armored Imperial troopers held defensive lines, using temporary cover brought from the gunships to hold anyone off that came too close.

"They say if we give up, they'll give us a fair trial in Corellia," Beth laughed out over the comms, her voice echoing with the sound of heavy blaster fire.

"The only fair trial on Corellia for an Imperial is at the end of a rope," Saltare spat out, "Keep those recon units of Mandalorians at bay while we deal with this heavier Republic contingent."

"Aye," she replied.

Saltare sent a burst of blaster fire toward a unit of Mandalorians, making them slow their advance and allowing another Imperial unit to overwhelm them with an emplaced blaster turret, forcing them back.

"Logan, give me a sitrep," Saltare barked out as he dove for cover, blue blaster rounds scorching his ragged armor.

"We're rounding up the rest of the folks in these mines. ETA to exfil is 10. There's something else, feeding it to you now, but we're extracting it as well. I'll need heavier air support from the fleet."

"Copy, you'll get it. Keep me updated if something goes haywire."

Saltare watched as a series of pictures scrolled across his HUD as he ducked behind a temporary cover. A large crate with an Imperial Crest on it was in one of the pictures, shut and sealed tight. Another picture showed the same or a similar crate opened, with a reddish stone neatly layered inside.

Saltare had no idea what it was, but Logan seemed to think it was worth taking, so he would trust him.

Saltare peeked his head out from behind his cover. A disruptor round fired from a nearby Inferno squad member took the life of a Mandalorian who had too much trust in his armor.

"Keep up the pressure; more citizens are en route to the spaceport from other zones," Saltare commanded the soldiers near him. He ducked back behind cover and sent an encoded message to Marlon Sularen .

//ZULU-CLASS ENCRYPTION: VERIFIED//
//INFERNO SQUADRON ENGAGED IN HEAVY CONTACT//
//IMPERIAL PERSONNEL CURRENTLY UNDER EVACUATION//
//HOSTILE PRESSURE ESCALATING ACROSS SECTOR//
//EXFIL WINDOW: T-MINUS 30 MINUTES//
//REQUESTING IMMEDIATE CLOSE AIR SUPPORT FOR INFERNO AND IRON SQUADRONS//
​

"Another group is coming from the north," an Inferno squad member comm'd to Saltare.

"Give me four, let's go get them," Saltare said as his personal shield activated, and he sprinted from cover to rescue more citizens. Behind him, black-clad Inferno squad members raced after their commander.

---

 

[Taam Moghul]

While Jonyna kept the High Republic at arms length, Taam and been more involved, most recently with Republic-affiliated jedi engaged the Iron Covenant at Dressel. He bore scars from that engagement that were still visible on his arm and head.

This time, Taam was responding to the High Republic's call in a more humanitarian means. He was happy to hear that Jonyna was open to lending aid to Corellia via the Dawn of Hope fleet. The two Cathar jedi had recently reunited, and were forming thier own family with Jonyna's children. But neither could ignore who they were, Jedi, and separate, or together, they would always heed the call for help.

This time it was together.

Though the Dawn of Hope was a humanitarian fleet, it was by no means defenseless. Part of it's success comes from the firepower that the fleet possessed. Jonyna's ships didn't just offer aid, they offered security. Joining Jonyna on the bridge of the Dawnbreaker II, Taam stood next to her, peering out of the viewport, a hand slipping around her waist.

"The Lifeline is in position, Kor Vella has been alerted to arrange for shipments to begin arriving." He spoke, turning to glance at the Denik. "and the boys are... contained." He grinned.

Tag: Jonyna Si

 

[Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata]

OBJECTIVE 2-
Defense Stabilization and Humanitarian Relief
Location: Kor Vella
Kit
Armor: Dauntless-type Beskar'gam
Blade: Tal'Alor Beskad
Primary Weapon: Plasma Bow
Secondary Weapon: Paired Beskar Tonfa
Ship: The Cabur Rekr (The Guardian Wolf)

Kael worked tirelessly, treating and field dressing what wounds he knew and understood, putting the full weight of what his Buir, Adelle, had taught him to the task. He contemplated what the war was doing to the people here. Once he got through the worst of what he could work on, he started prioritizing children and women. He worked hour after hour, healing the physical, while his aura of hope, which he was pushing out to those around him, attempted to soothe the emotional and mental strain the masses were experiencing with this conflict.

@open

 

[Ala Quin]

BEFORE
"Friends, huh?" Ala said, before adding internally, is that what we are?

She had risen, initially to find her weapons, but now she moved to a console and tapped a few commands, logging for the buildings maintenance droids to clean her floor the next day. As much as Allyson had taken care of the excess, some of the wine would have soaked into the carpet.

The carpet. Ala scrunched her toes up, feeling the plush luxury of them. It was indulgent, and a far cry from the cold, stone floors of her former accomodation. She felt her gut sink even before the thought of preferring this arrangement was permitted.

"Better is probably something best left to my discernment," she replied, now scrunching her nose and wagging a teacherly finger, "yes. I got the reports...very...unfortunate."

Unfortunate is what you called betrayal when you weren't looking to destroy your new apartment via lightsaber duel.

Allyson's reason for being here did not sit well, and Ala's posture conveyed that better than any words. She did not trust Allyson, and neither should she. She neither trusted her timing, her motivations nor her way of framing her sudden arrival.

Scooping up both glass and bottle, Ala turned her back on the Shadow and wandered to the kitchen cabinet. She pulled another tumbler from the shelf within, and set it on the granite countertop. The wine was already pouring into the second glass when Ala asked. "Wine?"

"And maybe...the truth?" She said, holding out a half-full glass of white wine. There were certainly distractions Ala could go for right now, but numbing the pain, but not irresponsibly so, was first on the cards.

Her eyes twitched, looking over Allyson's face quickly, hoping against hope that she was wrong. Alas, the Shadow was not. Ala could find know tell to the woman's future intentions. She was glad to have trusted her instinct and not brought Allyson on an official mission.

Should this all go horribly wrong, the blame would fall squarely at Ala's feet. Not the Order's. Not the Republics. The notion was potentially a little naive. But she was knew to life as the leader of the Jedi Order.

"You are a hard one to gauge, Allyson," Ala said, curls tumbling over her shoulders as she shook her head.

Trust, especially in this moment of Ala's life, was not something that was immediately granted to all ne'er-do-well traitors that walked in the door. Should she not be the Grandmaster, she would have gladly put her life on the line to grant Allyson another chance. "I don't have to do anything, let alone trust you," she said. The shuttle controls were pulled back, easing off on the throttle as a derelict asteroid base came into view. The sensors showed now signs of activity, nor approaching vessels – the latter being especially critical to their mission's success.

"The Jedi Order, currently, serves the people of the Republic and its allies as it the Order deems appropriate," she said softly, "there is no obligation legally or otherwise. Fighting to keep the Order independent is...among my highest priorities." It sounded like a practiced statement, read for a news broadcast. Again, trust needed to be earned.

Smirking at the 'diving' comment, Ala glanced at Allyson with a hint of mischief and suspicion. I'm sure you are, she thought.

The docking beacon on the station was still active, and Ala tethered the ships controls to it. Releasing the stick, the shuttle began to approach a slowly unfolding vestibule. It was a rickety looking tunnel, its walls made of the thinnest vacuum sealing material. Ala wondered in that moment if there was even gravity within it. Likely not...

"Several ex-Imperial warlords have taken interest in artificial consciousness," she said, it was a subject quite relevant for the Jedi Master – though few would suspect her of being science-minded, "it is my belief that something...of note...has come into their possession. Something that should not be in Imperial hands."

| Allyson Locke |​

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Merryn Sellek | Aurelian Veruna
​

As he stepped back from Miss Sellek, iced azure gaze caught sight of her necklace. Extremely rare absencite in the setting. He had never come across the stone in his travels and around much of the mining community it was regarded that Aurora Industries had the only source on them, which made the crushed Corsuca gems in his wedding band look like costume jewelry by comparison. Perhaps one day he would get his hands on one of the crystals for his own personal collection.

"It really has been too long."

Did he need an escape? Not particularly but it was nice to find a friendly face that wasn't going to be bombarded with legal loopholes on where to place credits. Gaze settled around the room before looking at his intelichrono, a message waiting across the screen. His wife wouldn't be able to make it in time - such things happened.

"No, looks like negotiations ran over on Foless. Looks like the room is stuck with me only tonight. I think I saw your wife among the crowds though, unless I'm spotting the wrong blonde."

He could be wrong, Miss Ivalyn Yvarro was more of his fathers friend, they had more contact as Judah worked in the Commonwealth. As the King stated his name sounded familiar, Makai wondered why. Of course his father had the salvage empire and the little incident with Monaray Dod .Yet they were not quite active in this area of the galaxy, unless somehow his brother had stumbled into Naboo royalty. Hopefully, for the sake of Naboo, not dating any of their daughters.

"Mining, extraction...some agricutlure. I just acquired all the mines on Bassadro after a horrible collapse, might be why it sounds familiar. You follow the innerworkings of corporations often?"

Makai wasn't sure if that was in the scope of a King or not. If this man was a figurehead or had real power. Difficult to tell in some of these governments.

 

[Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr]

Objective 1 System Purge

Location Socorro's Belt above Kolene Spaceport

TAG:
Aselia Verd - Adonis Angelis IV - Camille Cendre - Shokoh al Khayyat - Riya Pashen Zoro Igala - Ronhar Tane - Marlon Sularen - Itzhal Volkihar - Saltare Dothon - Aether Verd



The situation was unfolding rapidly. Naval forces, both hostile and friendly, continued to jump in from hyperspace and maneuver but as of yet had not directly clashed. The situation on the ground was more intense as the opposing forces had already clashed and were engaged in combat.

'Reports from the fighting outside the Spaceport Sir.' Declared his Lieutenant. 'It appears that the Imperial Stormtroopers are taking civilian hostages to cover their withdrawal. As always, the oppression of the week has emboldened the Imps and they are fighting to capture as many noncombatants as they can.'

"Ground tacticals on Holo" ordered Drall-Kar'ta as a fizzy image of the battlefield flickered into existence. Pointing to a area to the rear flank of the Imperial lines he said. "There, we can jump in where those supply crates will provide cover and disrupt their withdraw. The Imps are not above killing their slaves to prevent them from escaping. Order the Kom'rks to prepare for atmospheric insertion. The Kimogilas will execute a strafing run to cover the drop then reposition to help cover the bomber strike on the Star Destroyer. And ready my shuttle, I am going in with the troops."

He grabbed his helmet to make his way to his shuttle. "Cabur'verda with me." He added as he turned over the Con and made ready to drop planetside.

On the field outside the port the battle raged as the two opposing lines clashed and undulated like mating snakes. The whine of hydraulics and thuds of blasterfire rang out in a vibrating cacophony but a rumbling wave of sound reverberated as six heavy fighters executed a strafing run on the imperial positions. The explosions of blaster and missle impacts shaking the ground to be quickly replaced by the shriek of ion engines as the fighters quickly swooped in then out. The dust had not settled before three other ships flew overhead, this time disgorging not ordinance but Mandalorian warriors who jetpacked down and began engaging the imperial troops.

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

​

Adonis landed on the tank like a meteor strike. His blue blade started cutting through the hull in a molten spray as his boots slammed against the surface hard enough to bend it inward. The machine groaned under the pressure he was putting on it, sparks flying from the wound he created while the turret twitched uselessly above under the pressure of his will. The Mandalorian reared back for a final blow when the hatch suddenly blew open.

A stormtrooper half crawled out of the breach through the smoke and sparks, a scattergun gripped tightly in his hands while he tried to avoid the molten steel spilling across the tank's armor. Panic had long since overtaken discipline as the Imperial fired point blank. The blast caught Adonis in the shoulder and forced the warrior a half step back, but retaliation came immediately.

A crushgaunt shot forward and seized the Imperial by the throat before he had a chance to chamber another round. Standing well over the trooper, Adonis held him there for a moment while the stormtrooper clawed uselessly at the armored hand crushing his windpipe. A red haze crept into the edges of Adonis's vision before he finally tightened his grip and ended it. The scattergun slipped from the Imperial's grasp and clattered lazily against the top of the tank while the body went limp in Adonis's hand.

The Mandalorian tossed the corpse aside before bending down to claim the weapon for himself. Around him the battlefield erupted as more Mandalorians pushed the assault, blaster fire screaming in every direction while Republic armor and Riya Pashen drove deeper into the Imperial line, helped by Camille Cendre and her hulking walker. Ahead, civilians were beginning to join the fray with old blasters, blades, and whatever weapons they could get their hands on. They had decided they suffered under the Imperials long enough, and Adonis could already see the panic beginning to spread through parts of the enemy line as the uprising grew.

The Imperials responded the way occupiers always did, their blaster fire turning toward the civilians rushing from cover. Adonis spotted a heavy repeater emplacement beginning to rotate toward a group near the shattered remains of a storefront. The gunner barely got the weapon halfway around before a burst from Adonis's jetpack launched him from the ruined tank. Lightsaber in one hand and scattergun in the other, he drove himself directly toward the emplacement without hesitation.

He impacted the barricade with enough force to crack it apart. The scattergun roared once, and the repeater gunner disappeared in a spray of blood and shattered armor. Adonis landed in the middle of the position a moment later, his blue blade flashing violently through the smoke as Mandalorians surged behind him. The scattergun barked again while his lightsaber carved through another trooper trying to push toward the civilians, the two weapons working in brutal harmony as he forced the Imperials backward.

"These damned civs are going to get themselves killed," Adonis growled over the comms to the nearby Mandalorians. Another blast from the scattergun dropped an Imperial where he stood before the warrior lowered the smoking weapon slightly. "Limit casualties as much as possible. They're scared."

Around him, the battle only continued to intensify. The roar of tanks and artillery echoed through the district as Republic, Mandalorian, and Imperial forces converged on the same collapsing stretch of battlefield. Over the comms came repeated chatter about a squad of Imperials giving the Mandalorians trouble deeper in the line. Adonis looked back toward Perseus , taking quick stock of his squad's position before turning his attention toward the fighting ahead. He intended to break the Imperial line before it could break his people.

TAG: Saltare Dothon Novac Lyrikal Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr
​