Ya'll Done Karked Up [CIS Invasion of Barab I vs Black Suns]

[Lucien Cordel]

Lucien stood on the bridge of a battle ship. He normally hated war but today, he didn't feel such hatred for it. The CIS had grown to big for it's boots and is seemed the best way to solve the problem was to cut the CIS off at the hip and take the boots. The fringe had become a bastion for the down trodden, Today they were reinforcing that position. Lucien walked over to a control panel and made a ship wide address "Today Ladies and gentlemen We are here to help out a friend who is currently being bullied, today we are the Suns older sibling and we are going to help them kick seven bells out of their enemies" He spoke calmly his voice level. He no longer needed roars to get across a message. He turned Heal Tightening his waist coat and pulling on a pair of gloves. He fully expected to end up blood stained by the end of this little fray, He had therefore opted for a red shirt hoping that would had any stains he might incur.

Within A few minutes He was in the hanger before him lay multiple drop-ships each holding a squad of soldiers He began his walk to the centre ship, this one was special it bore his "Fist" an elite squad of troops who served as both his guards and his dirty workers. They kept people in line, normally it was citizens but their talents did stretch to enemies of the fringe. Their commander saluted him as he strode on board.

 

[Darth Metus]

Now this was quite the interesting development indeed...for just as the Confederacy began to retaliate against the Syndicate for invading the Republic, the Fringe Confederation began to retaliate in the same regard. To add to this spiralling turn of events came a supplementary force from the North; a recently made friend with a rather...pronounced distaste for the Dark Side. From the depths of hyperspace surged forth yet another congregation of vessels. This time, it was a taskforce from the Fel Imperium: and the space around Barab I was certainly being clotted with ships. In the grand tally of things, the formerly-overwhelming presence of Confederate ships were reduced to "whelming" standards by the Fringe fleet. Reinforcements, compliments of the High Admiral and the Fel, brought the scales in balance.

But the real battle would be decided on the ground, where saber and saber could collide.

Though the two had never encountered one another face to face, it seemed that providence would have the Archmaster of the Imperial Knights overhear the transmission blared across the system by the former Sith Empress. She lived, and was leading the Fringe Confederation...interesting...And now the time had come for the young Master to make a challenge of his own. From the bridge of one of the corvettes which arrived from Fel space came a transmission, plain and simple, which reverberated across the channels. A challenge from Master to Master: from Light to Dark. "Ashin Varanin, my name is Josiah Denko, Archmaster of the Imperial Knights and Justiciar of the Templar Rangers. Yours is a reputation of Darkness and Slaughter, and it is my duty as a servant of the Light to eradicate monsters like you from the face of the Galaxy."

"So humor me, oh famed Empress. Face the warrior cultivated by the Grandmasters Watts and Wraith. Meet me on the soil of Barab I and see if your Darkness will triumph over the Light."

With that said, the transmission ended and a simple transport bore the Archmaster from the corvette to the ground. He landed only about a mile outside of the city, in the midst of mountains, grass, and stone. T'was the perfect location for a throwdown between titans, where there would be no civilian casualties...or so he hoped. Garbed in his typical MX-00 Templar Armor, Josiah awaited an answer to his challenge from within his transport; seated in the cargo hold with his eyes closed. He focused upon the Force, on pouring out himself and allowing the Light to fill him completely. There the waiting game began...the quiet before the Storm.

@[member="Ashin Varanin"].

 

[Feena]

The kiss on her cheek made her wince. Not here. Not now. Not while she was trying to get herself 'in the zone'. Had she forgotten to ask for professionalism? She almost sighed, defeated. Even if she asked for it, her husband would never be able to just drop it. This was not his fight. His job was to assist her, in any way she needed it. Maybe in his own way, he was trying to help?
Maybe she did need his affections.


But the second another person entered the shuttle, she slipped her hand out of his. A stranger. Not Isley. Isley wouldn't be working with her anymore... That had been kind of hard for her to accept. She'd been working with him from the start. She trusted him with her life. But everybody had to move on some time, and it was good that he got a promotion... good for him, anyway.

Feena narrowed her eyes at his words, but she did not snap. Not really. She was too tired to be angry.

"Indeed? I had not been informed that Isley Verd's empty spot on my team would be filled so quickly."

She kept her voice flat, steady. She was tired, but she would not be disrespected.

"You may consider this the interview process. A trial period. You do your job, I may hire you on full time. You mess up? Get me killed? Then you can bet you will be spending the rest of your days fetching caf and cleaning floors for my replacement."

She cleared her throat, holding out a hand for Keter to set her datapad in.

"Now, I have a few rules to go over with you. First and foremost, you will not take out your weapon unless we are in immediate danger. You will not even make it visible. Distresses my patients, I am sure you understand.
Second, you will speak softly and respectfully to all on this team.

And last... My name is not 'Archon-whatever-you-call-yourself'. I am either Lady Archon, or if that feels too formal, Mrs. Mason is also acceptable. Either of those two are what you shall address me as, and I will accept no other name."

She paused, glancing at Keter.

"That goes for you as well, Mister Mason."

 

[Darth Metus]

And so began the operation, with an interesting twist. The Rampaging Horde (@[member="Ashin Varanin"]: This is now a thing homie. XD) had arrived, en masse, to assist the Syndicate defend their holdings against the Confederacy of Independent Systems. However, out of the blue, friends from the North had arrived to assist as well. The battle had become quite interesting; and now it was time for the Mandalorian to reveal just how powerful he had grown in the Dark Side. Rising from the terminal, he gave a confident nod to @[member="Phoebe Draclau"], and motioned for her to follow. Recent history had seen this mysterious woman enter Isley's life, liberated from Carbonite, and since then he had held himself responsible for her wellbeing. After all, one does not simply abandon someone after saving them from a centuries-spanning imprisonment.

"Let's get this show on the road." he said simply, before turning on his heel and heading in the direction of the hanger. Along the way, he motioned to a cadre of droids, numbering in twelve, who were then tasked with the liberation of a newfound friend. His name was @[member="Servus"], and his current position was locked up, nice and tight, within the brig of the ship. The droid's mission was simple: go down there and get the crazy clown out. This they carried out to the letter, and in but the span of three minutes, the Clankers arrived outside of his "cage". They looked upon him without emotion, for that's what automatons did, and the lead droid said: "Time to go." The keycard was slid, the locks were released, and Servus was free to begin his portion of the operation.

In the meantime, Isley headed down to the hanger and boarded one of the numerous transports headed for the surface. He allowed time for any additional personnel to file aboard before signaling the pilot to fire up the engines and take off. Alongside a trio of interceptors, the Colonel's ship surged forth from the hanger into the abyss of space. The ride was hard and swift, for evasive maneuvers were taken practically every other second. In only a matter of moments, Isley would be on the ground and the battle for Barab I would begin in earnest.

(@[member="Lucien Cordel"], @[member="Moira Skaldi"], Come on Down!!!)

@[member="Aella Cadeyrn"], @[member="Alek Skywalker"], @[member="Alli Wren"], @[member="Aluk Magar"], @[member="AR-G002"], @[member="Arthos Vynea"], @Cade Lee, @[member="Chloe Hinata"], @[member="Commander Black"], @[member="Coop"], @Cross, @[member="Daxton Bane"], @[member="Desmond Voralis."] @Dr.Clyin Stathan, @[member="Emahana"], @[member="Ember Rekali"], @[member="Feena Mason"], @Gavin Willis, @[member="Hannibal Oryen"], @[member="Ishtar Freyja"], @[member="James Moriarty"], @[member="Jason Sisk"], @[member="Juthan'Athar"], @[member="Kalia Walsh"], @[member="Kara Avoyos"], @[member="Kataphrak"], @[member="Killua Alkyone"], @Lancer Damar, @[member="Lauren Walsh"], @[member="Lysander of Suarbi"], @[member="Marek Starchaser"], @[member="Mehrk Gorbi"], @[member="Montag Card"], @[member="Neilo Ardik"], @[member="Neskar A'toll"], @Nocturno, @[member="OBD-001"], @[member="Olidiv Kenu"], @[member="Oron"], @[member="Phoebe Draclau"], @[member="Praxis"], @[member="Rayn H'voc"], @[member="Ruza Deveel"], @[member="Saren Lonecaller"], @[member="Sephoria Lasranae"], @[member="Serock Hoath"], @[member="Servus"], @[member="Seth Lockheart"], @[member="Shorurra"], @[member="Sophia Walsh"], @[member="Strask Ak'lya"], @[member="T:N1:LDR"], @[member="Trevin Neros"], @[member="Vendir"], @[member="Voracen Raiz"], @[member="Vorhi Alestrani"], @[member="Vyperion"], @Wiklea Ve'nar, @[member="Xalus"], @[member="XV-265"].​

 

[Keter]

That was cold. Much colder than he was used. His eyes would have narrowed but instead he bowed his head as he handed her the datapad she needed. He would talk to her about this later. Not in front of others. He wouldn't embarrass her like that. He leaned back and began the wait until they landed. He was part of Feena's entourage now. Or so she seemed to think. His precious wife seemed to be forgetting exactly what he was, what he had been since she had met him. His own man.

@[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@[member="Josiah Denko"]

Ashin's Aleph-class curved toward the planet; her transmission resumed, going out to the Barab system.

"I consider Darron Wraith and Ben Watts to be personal friends, men who oppose me when they feel it's right but never stoop to your level. You invoke honorable men to legitimize a selfish land grab with a hair-thin justification. Whatever words you use, you're here to do no more or less than I have done. I've conquered ten thousand worlds with justifications just as strong and territorial ambitions just as acute as I see before me today. The difference between you and me, o paladin of all that is just and holy, is that I don't pretend my actions are righteous. The Jedi say that only a Sith speaks in absolutes -- but there's a saying just as old, a Sith quote. It goes something like this.

"'Speak with a forked tongue like a Jedi. Be as two-faced as a Jedi. But never believe your own poodoo like a Jedi.' Perhaps my interpretation falters. But you are no student of Watts or Wraith. They are good men, honorable men, who would never have backed a movement like this. They would never have declared eradication as a goal -- and certainly not from a basis of a faction which has historically included Sith Masters and combined with the darkest and deadliest forces of the galaxy. A faction that betrays its friends but claims moral high ground for no other reason than because its leaders attain the power for evil through their own serenity. And that is disgusting.

"I'm going to kill you, Denko. I don't say that often; I don't duel to kill. Today your death is on the agenda. And then I'll take that death to every hypocrite you brought along."

The transmission ended as her fighter settled down not far from his vessel. She emerged, removing her flight suit. An Iron Skin jumpsuit lay beneath, the kind of thing you would want to deal with shrapnel, and she toyed with the neck as she eyed the armored Josiah Denko.

"That's impressive armor," she said, and stripped off the Iron Skin armorweave. Beneath, she wore a breast band, a short-sleeved undershirt, and shorts to her knees. "When I fought Moridin for the throne, I went dressed more or less like this. So that nobody could claim I relied on a crutch. I left my indestructible armor home, and all my tricks. Just me and a blade."

Down to shirt and shorts, Ashin drew Winterlight. The sword rang free of its sheath. She sighted down it, examining the unmarred, unwavering edge. "This sword has tasted Masters' blood. It'll taste yours, Denko," she said, meeting his eyes for the first time -- and her eyes blazed blue like a Bando Gora high priest. "Whether that adds to its count of true Masters, that has yet to be determined."

She stuffed her flight suit and Iron Skin into the starfighter cockpit and strode away from it to meet the Confederacy's paladin. With a long exhalation, she settled into a Shii-Cho stance.

"Come on, then, boy. Eradicate this monster, or die trying. There are worse deaths than my blade."

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@[member="Ashin Varanin"], @[member="Josiah Denko"]

The Paladin of Righteousness broadcast his message loud and clear. Moira retained her trademark stoicism but looked...completely and utterly bored as the words were spoken and her starfighter broke off from heading towards the Serenity and instead was steered towards the planet, which incidentally was a total hellhole, making it rather perplexing that the Confederacy would want it in the first place. But then so many things that organics were illogical, so she generally did not bother much with finding reasoning behind their action.

"How dramatic," Moira commented indifferently as the exchange took place. As with all powers the Confederacy claimed righteousness, but there was this little issue with their head of state ordering capital ships to crash onto the home world of a nation that had been their ally in an attempt murder everyone on it - a most petty move that seemed like it was born out of a hissy fit. Of course, as a thoroughly amoral, genocidal assassin droid Moira would never judge anyone for pursuing 'morally reprehensible actions' - organics were by their very nature murderous beings, which was why she existed.

"Organics do so love to pontificate and wax lycrically about their own righteousness, the justice of their cause. How they stand against darkness and are 'protecting the weak against the strong' and their enemy is the incarnation of pure evil. Tremendously dramatic, tedious, redundant. It would be refreshing if they could just admit that deep down...they kill because they can and because they want to, instead of trying to make themselves feel better. No holocameras are watching now, the plebs aren't there to be deceived," apparently the Butcher of Contruum had uncharacteristically decided to speak up, which might be a testament to her being close to annoyed.


"Let us spare the preaching and get to the murdering. The meat grinder hungers for meat" with that she cut the transmission and swiftly brought her fighter in to land not that far from where Ashin had touched down. She swiftly emerged out of the craft as the former Empress spoke her piece and removed the Iron Skin armourweave. Most thoughtfully her, how we shall put it, business partners in the Fringe - who were currently ranking pretty high on the list of organic factions she could...approve of as much as a machine who thought all organics should be processed could - had provided her with Iron Skin armour of her own and the metal underneath her synthetic skin made her a walking tank.

She tilted her head to the side in curiosity as she surveyed the area before them. In each hand she was holding a bolter, one the heavy-hitting but slower mark one, designed for a strong punch, in the other a lighter and semiautomatic mark two, which boosted a larger magazine and better rate of fire. Grenades and thermal detonators were strapped to her belt.

This should be beautiful. It was time for murder.

 

[Darth Metus]

Threats of death were something that the young Master was used to. After all, he was a product of many things, namely an upbringing on Nar Shaddaa. There was no response to the transmission which the former Sith Empress uttered, for Josiah simply awaited her arrival on the ground. Calm breaths defined him, as did the presence of the Force. With each breath he, an empty cup, poured out all that defined "Josiah Denko" and allowed the Light to replace it. Like a mighty tide, the Force came upon him, saturating each and every fiber of his being, until he was convinced...he was ready. At this moment, the starfighter touched down upon the earth and the Archmaster emerged from his transport. He heard her words, but spoke nothing in return, simply reaching down upon his utility belt and loosing the first of his trio of lightsabers.

Snap. Hiss.

A blade of gold erupted into being and hummed as the Archmaster held it aloft. The stance was that of Soresu and defense was a priority at this very moment in time. Josiah had no idea what sort of tricks the former Sith Empress had in her arsenal, but he dared not believe that their fight would be restricted to sabers; for believing a Dark Sider was a fool's errand. He also knew that the stripping down to next to nothing spoke very little, for she was the Destroyer of Worlds. If this woman was truly the former ruler of the Sith Empire, then armor or not, she would have tremendous sums of power; and a paltry layer of Cortosis atop armorweave would not halt it. He inspected his opponent for a moment, silently judging her stance. Shii-Cho...

"Now you're just showing off...Ladies first." he said, noticing that a starfighter had followed that of the Sith Empress. He had no idea how many were on it, nor did he have time to think on anything else; for his opponent was right before his eyes.

@[member="Ashin Varanin"].

 

[Darth Athora]

Vael stood at his master's rear, arms crossed and head covered by an ebony hood. His crimson armor shined like new as the slender Sephi looked through the viewport as he slowly imbued himself with the Force. He had implications upon leaving the Confederacy after this invasion in order to reclaim his throne in his family's name. "Master. I am ready when you are." he commented, quiet enough to not disturb Daxton too much. By know, Vael's pyrokinesis had become formidable along with other force powers he had learned. The Sephi was prepared. For this is war.

And war never changes.

@[member="Daxton Bane"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@[member="Josiah Denko"]

"No, you stupid, stupid boy. You do not get to play the aggressor, the crusader, and then sate your conscience by waiting for me to make the first move." With the sword, she gestured at the dark horizon. "When day comes on this world, everything takes shelter or it dies. A purifying, genocidal, murderous flame. Light isn't always righteousness, Denko. Sometimes it's just a bad metaphor used by bad people as a very bad justification."

She shook her head, eyes never leaving his and never blinking. "You came to Barab to kill. So kill me."

 

[Neskar A'toll]

@[member="Moira Skaldi"]

The sensors beeped, a flashing red light that drew Neskar from over from the other side of the ship. Standing above the sensor, he sneered at the findings, before a sly smirk came to his face as the rest of the craft filled up. Two starfighters, heading straaaaaaight to the Serenity. This'll be good. He turned, bellowing down the ship so the pilot could hear him. "Two starfighters, heading to the Serenity... Turning to the surface! Follow them now! Land where the second does!" he said calmly, the last of the company filling the craft. The transport whirred, and lifted up from the hanger bay, and the thrusters roared, propelling the transport out of the hanger bay, dropping towards the surface of the planet rapidly. This'll be good.

The starfighter was in sight. Clad in his beskar'gam, he booted up the jet-pack, and clutched the slug-thrower rifle close to his chest as the rear door of the transport parted into two, and opened up to reveal the enviroment. He smiled, and dropped out of the door, letting the air take him, and the rockets of the jet-pack propel him through the air. Two rather explosive-looking thermal detonators clinked and clanked as they clanged against his belt, and his left hand fell from the stock of the rifle and gripped the exterior of one of these detonators, pulling it free from the belt. In the corner of his eye, as he descended from the skies, the transport had landed squarely on the ground, some distance from the starfighter. Troops had already begun to pile out of the transport and were laying down thick reams of suppressing fire onto the small occupant of the starfighter. At least, it looked small from up in the sky. Neskar smirked, and rapidly stopped his descent, manoeuvring his body around so the jet-pack was directly above the ground, slowly his descent down to almost a minimum. Slowly descending down from the sky, his finger smoothed over the small red button of the thermal detonator. He pressed it. It beeped, showing it had primed. If Neskar was correct, he was directly above that starfighter. He doubted the thermal detonator would do that much damage, but it would shock that thing there. The detonator slipped from his hand. It fell, straight and true, and continued to fall until it would presumably make contact with the starfighter or somewhere near the star-fighter.

[ooc] that quick edit was cos I messed up the font

 

[Darth Metus]

The young Master took a moment to inhale a deep breath before regarding his opponent once more. What he did know about the woman before him was that she was dangerous and powerful enough to lead the Sith Empire...and the Fringe Confederation. Furthermore, she considered his masters, both deities of Soresu and Vaapad respectively, as friends. As such, he could only assume a single fact: that her skill in the stance she assumed was at their level, or higher. However, if Ashin was adamant on his taking the first move...then he would. He adjusted his stance, shifting from pure defense from angling his blade at approximately forty-five degrees over his head. There was a moment of silence as he entered the initial stance of the form that was his specialty, Djem'So.

Then, he lashed out.

Like a mighty tsunami crashing down upon the unsuspecting shore, so too did Josiah's lightsaber come down. The strike was quick, yet backed with the strength born of training and youth. The Archmaster acknowledged that there was a large possibility that this blow would be shrugged off, or otherwise deflected; as was the short-coming in making the first move, and was already calculating which direction to go next. He had no idea how quick or strong his opponent was, and as such he thought it wise to exercise extreme caution moving forward. This was easily the deadliest foe the young Master had faced in the entirety of his life...yet he was confident that he would succeed.

@[member="Ashin Varanin"].

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@[member="Neskar A'toll"]
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/3179-mk-i-omega-boltgun-special-ammunition/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/10052-mk-ii-omega-boltgun/

The former Sith Empress, now pretty much the Mistress of the unknown regions whose laboratory of Endor Moira had gotten to know so well and appreciate now, and the Archmaster of the Templars, which by the way was a really fancy title, were having their little dramatic moment that would be perfect for any holovid. In the meantime someone was obliging the assassin droid by attacking her, which was most appreciated, as the not particularly interesting could come to an end.

The Examin-class starfighter had been parked close to Ashin's Aleph, though at a reasonable distance. However, while and the Archmaster conversed Moira had not remained idle and static. To simply stay put in one place and wait for someone to get the drop on you was like asking for it and made you deserve destruction. Instead, both bolters held tight in her iron grips, she was already swiftly moving away from her position, both to be less exposed as her superior scanner already picked up on more Confederate forces approaching from the air, and to possibly get a better firing angle. Admittedly the whole duel between Ashin and the Templar master, when it was about to begin, seemed like an exclusive thing, but surely there would be more Templars on the way.

Thus she was already quickly advancing as the Mandalorian dove down from the sky and troopers landed. Rather than return fire, choosing her targets wisely, her programming kicked in as she moved fast, very fast with superhuman speed, seeming like a blur or a phantom as she dashed for better cover, further picking up the pace as she quickly bolted when the superior eyesight and targeting capabilities fell upon the thermal detonators being tossed towards the fighter. She raced fast and leapt high as the deadly balls of explosives came falling down, then as she landed rolled hard, the ground shaking beneath her. Back during the battle on Yaga Minor she had almost outrun two gunships an enraged Sith Knight had telekinetically thrown on her...and then thrown off the debris that crashed upon her.

However, even with her great speed, though she was almost in the clear, she was caught at the edge of the blast radius as the thermals exploded powerfully, ripping into the starfighter that was still parked and tearing through it, pieces of debris being hurled into the air and tossed towards her as she was thrown through the air by the blast. Shards of shrapnel struck her and debris shot her way. Her iron skin armour weave was battered and dented, the force of the blast was strong, but the weave was good at keeping shrapnel out. More to the point, Moira was not human, beneath the organic exterior lay the machine form of a human replica droid, designed to last. So her armour would be ripped in pieces, organic skin should suffer burns and expose some of the metal beneath it, but she had taken volleys of force lightning and been functional enough to carry on. Thus in mid-air she spun and aimed the mark two bolter at the debris flying towards her, blasting it with a well-aimed burst as the weapon barked.

Reshifting her gaze she took aim at her attacker and fired, able to hold and unleash both bolters simultaneously. These were area effect weapons and in both cases carried magazines of explosive bolts. The mark one held a magazine of 30mm x 45mm rounds with a two metre casualty zone on impact and up to six metres one could be injured by blast or shrapnel. The mark two had 25mm x 40mmm explosive bolts, with a firing rate of 120 rounds per minute on semiautomatic, though reduced range and lethality. Beskar was a powerful armour and so the damage the explosive rounds could do would be more limited, however even it had gaps and particularly the mark one was designed to be effective against personal armour and even light vehicle armour. Moreover, they exploded on impact, any significant pressure against the warhead would cause detonation. Squeezing the triggers Moira fired both weapons, their roar music to her ears, first aiming directly at her opponent as her first salvoe pumped out rounds with the mark one, then both guns firing at his jetpack, grenade after grenade being thunked out.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@[member="Josiah Denko"]

Ashin wasn't one to shrug aside blows, or deflect them. The entirety of her core skillset centered on what the uncultured termed 'tanking' -- resilience, physical enhancement, various things that strengthened her ability to take a hit for her friends. So when that brilliant gold blade slashed down, it slammed into Winterlight about a handspan above the crossguard. A Master-level Djem So specialist was nothing to shrug off, and despite the relative masses of their weapons, the force of his blow drove her feet into the scorched earth and sent a shiver down her back. Her one-handed block never flinched.

It wouldn't do to fight such a man without the proper state of mind. Focus without tension. Fluidity without lassitude. Awareness without distraction.

She stepped in and to the left, sweeping his blade down and away to the side with a smooth continuation of his remaining momentum. She slashed backhand, her sword skidding along his blade and over the tops of his forearms in a decapitating cut.

 

[Domino]

"I see no reason to let them land everything." She gave him a nod. "Launch two just to in case, and make sure our allies are well clear of the blasts and their effects. I don't want to cause the only people to show us honor grievance." In the halls the echoing footsteps of the droids had fallen silent. They waited behind the bunker's great doors that would protect them from the massive EMP. Protection Confederacy technology would be without in the sky and open surface. "Other than that..." She paused, thinking. "You may fire when ready."
@[member="Hacker"]

 

[Hacker]

@[member="Domino"] @[member="Lucien Cordel"] @[member="Ashin Varanin"] @[member="Isley Verd"]

Ready your body. The WMD's are coming!

"Then lets rain some science upon them"! Hacker loved when he got to wield big weapons. They could just do so much more damage than he could do in such a short span. He was as giddy as a giddy replicator, if those exist. Which they should! Hacker activated the communications systems his helmet possessed, linking it to the Black Sun comm net. "Allies, we're going to make the machines pray for their false gods. Their systems will fry and chip sets be non functional. Clear the skies and watch your positions in high orbit over battle sector one to four. We're sending the Tube Alloys"! Tube Alloys was an old code word for nuclear missiles. Surely it wasn't lost on them. But hacker was an ancient compared to the rest of these pups.

Ahh righteous nuclear flame. A bit of a waste they were going to HEMP instead of ground burst. But tactical situations required what must be done. "Alright missile command. Let fly with numbers one and two. High burst so all that that extra gamma is there to be spread. Its gona be so awesome"! The firing method was the tried and true two keys code system. The codes were already imparted to the computer, battle doctrine and all that. The silo doors slid open to reveal their deadly surprise inside. All that was left was for the two controllers to turn their keys at the same time. Promptly done while he awaited. Now all that was left was the big red button. Hacker smacked open the covering case, not taking any of its sassy metal and glass nonsense. "If my job gets any cooler I think I'm gona have to shoot myself to make sure I'm not dreaming". Hacker breathed in, savoring the... Lies, all lies, filthy propaganda lies. He hit that button multiple times like it was some fine Zelatros booty. Smoke rose out of the silos as the engines fired up. Slowly at first they rose out of their confines. Faster and faster they went, rising into the air to their burst altitude. It was gona be tops.

 

[Darth Metus]

The combination of skillful bladework and his own momentum saw the young Master's blade swept both down and to the side. What's more, the former Sith Empress stepped in, sweeping her sword in a deadly, backhanded slice in an attempt to remove Josiah's head from his neck. There were only a few options for the Archmaster to utilize in this split second, and he decided to go with that which allowed him to turn an attempt to throw him on defense into an opportunity for offense. With both his momentum and blade moving down and to the left, compliments of Ashin's tactic, Josiah's neck was right in the way of the incoming blade. However, he found that relying upon this downward momentum was the key to his salvation. It took the ducking of his head down, the bending of his knees, and a kick step forward; but he managed to duck under the blade (albeit by the skin of his teeth) and arrive at the flank of the former Empress.

Continuing ever forward, Josiah relied upon the step taken and a turn upon his heel to shift the downward momentum into a roaring swing upward and around. His feet brought him past her side and to her back, where the swing culminated with an attempt to score a blow across her spine. This strike was just as powerful as that which is to be expected by a Master of Djem'So, and carried behind it just as much power as the former blow.

@[member="Ashin Varanin"].

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@[member="Josiah Denko"]

Her front foot, her left, dug into the ground hard as she set her stance against her own forward momentum. Her left hand came up to her right cheek, a preparatory move and one that had a lot to do with balance.

But it was all about the right hand. Behind her, Winterlight pointed at the ground as she torqued her shoulder up and leaned forward to minimize risk of dislocation and avoid the necessity of straightening her arm. The side of her blade brushed her back leg, and she angled it just so-

So that when the Djem So master's powerful strike slammed into the crook of her blade and the alchemical crossguard, her sword's tip didn't jolt and cut into her calf.

She moved, then, shifting her left arm back and down to give the rest of her a little more momentum as she spun right. She flicked up her inverted wrist and sword, not a strike, but parallel to his lightsabre, outside his guard. Her crossguard snared the blade, and as she spun right she wrenched her elbow down.

Slapping the flat of her blade into his lightsabre, while twisting against it with her crossguard. If he had some Trakata skill, or unusual quickness at the kind of back-and-forth motion on the long axis, quickness that came with Makashi, he might get out of the bind before she could attempt to wrench his lightsabre from his hands.

But then she shifted her weight toward him. Her right foot skidded in the dust, a little movement in time with her turn. The leg bent as her stance reversed, becoming a mirror image of itself, front-heavy but transitional.

And her rising blade, now underneath his, slammed forward at his gut, ideally still with his lightsabre caught in her crossguard for the moment.

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

@Hacker @[member="Domino"]

From the depths of space, the devil sings
From the hallows of his heart, a demon he brings....

Nocturno dropped out of Hyperspace with 2 massive Lucrehulk-class Command Ships that were packed to the rim with the 105th Droid Army, the personal force of the cyborg general. Among his forces were the standard infantry droids of the CIS, as well as the dangerous War Bugs and DSD-1 Spider Droids. To top it all off, he had multiple of them loaded onto the Meteor-Class Droid Dispensers which would be dropped through the atmosphere and directly on top of tactical targets. The cyborg leader stood, his features unreadable behind the mask of death that always adorned his face. The robotic warrior had already mounted himself up into a new adaption of the ancient CIS Wheelbike. The bike sat in the dark of a C-10k Landing Craft that had just begun to lift off the deck of the hanger and started to to slowly exit the commandships.

As Nocturno's ships began to exit into the void of space and make their way towards the planet, the commandships locked onto the coordinates of the planet where the fighting seemed to be heaviest. As soon as the coordinates were punched in, 12 of the droid dispensers launched into space and towards the planet. 4 of the dispensers were loaded with droidikas while the others were packed full of "Clanker" Battle Droids. There would be no escape for the enemies of the Confederacy...

 

[Darth Metus]

Once more, the former Sith Empress proved herself to be just as skilled as the Archmaster expected. As his blade came down, swift and strong, it collided with the crook of her sword. Then came the tricky part, for she then began a skillful attempt to wrest the lightsaber clean from his hands, utilizing mainly the crossguard of her weapon and the swift adjustment of her stance. Once the crossguard ensnared Josiah's blade and began to guide his momentum to the left as it began its attempt to separate him from his weapon, the young Master retaliated in the best way he could. Trakata was all about timing and momentum, and there was no better time than the present for the Archmaster to selectively slide his finger over the ignition of his saber.

The golden blade retracted immediately, and therefore liberated itself from the clutches of the former Empress' sword, whilst moving left in the direction of her attempted twists. The Archmaster then took a quick step in that direction and began to turn on his heel to initiate a spin. This spin was counter-clockwise in motion; and whilst he moved, his right hand lowered and called upon the Force to telekinetically beckon his second saber from his belt. It leapt into his grasp excessively quicker than he would have been able to by physically grabbing it; and since every second counted in a duel, this proved to be the smarter course of action in his mind. As he began to complete the spin, his opponent re-adjusted her stance and began to lunge; only to be met with the dual sounds of lightsabers igniting. Gold and Silver erupted into being, and descended upon her with might and speed.

The direction of the attack was sweeping down, from right to left, with impressive speed and power. The first saber, clutched within his left hand, collided with the middle of the former Empress' blade with as much force as he could muster. The intention was to force her sword down and to the left, thereby creating additional space between her weapon and his second saber. Clutched tightly within his right hand, the silver blade attempted to score a clean, yet deadly, strike upon the former Sith Empress' front. The attack attempted to run the blade across the left of her collarbone, down across the middle of her torso.

@[member="Ashin Varanin"].