Public 1313: Wasteland

[Nero Drake]

LEVEL 1313
CORUSCANT​

---

"Karabast!"

Nero's swoop bike shuddered to a smoking halt. He leapt off the salvaged wreck scorched in half a dozen places by blaster fire. It wasn't safe to stop here. For surface dwellers the Dark Empire's attack might as well have been ancient history but way down on 1313 and other levels like it the war raged on. Most of the Imperial invaders were long gone but their death trooper squads wiped out entire syndicates and local gangs pursuing covert objectives. Now survivors battled over the ashes while offworld cartels sensing weakness moved against their rivals.

"Blasted piece of bantha dung," he yanked a corroded power converter out of the dead swoop's guts.

This entire subdistrict used to be Black Sun territory. Their remnants still fought for control, so gang wars raged constantly. Nero checked the charge on his bryar pistol. Less than half a power cell which were getting harder to come by every day. His jacket gave him away as a Dark Star Hellion but he refused to take it off even though he might be one of the last. Sounds of a not so distant blaster fight forced the kid's sabacc hand.

He crept through the Coruscant underworld until Nero heard distorted voices and took cover behind a half demolished duracrete wall. Starbird markings identified the crashed ship as a Galactic Alliance shuttle but it was the Pyke Syndicate foot soldiers attempting to cut through its hull whose alien dialect had carried. No rescue would be coming. Security forces weren't brave enough to confront the cartels and down in the undercity Jedi were a myth.

Nero had a bad feeling about this but there just might be a compatible power converter on board. It was probably his best chance.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Level 1313, Coruscant
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Nero Drake

The low hum of muffled footsteps echoed through the darkened undercity, a sound drowned out by the ambient chaos of Coruscant's Level 1313. Reicher Vax moved silently at the head of his squad, the red glow of his visor dimmed to avoid detection. Behind him, six veteran Sith Legionnaires followed with military precision, their blackened armor dulled to blend into the shadows. They moved like ghosts, silent and unyielding, their mission clear.

As they neared the crashed Galactic Alliance shuttle, Reicher raised a fist, signaling a halt. The squad froze instantly, blending into the debris and gloom as if they were part of the level itself. He knelt and peered around a jagged duracrete wall, his visor's advanced optics scanning the scene ahead.

The Pyke Syndicate foot soldiers were gathered in loose formation around the shuttle's breached hull, their efforts focused on cutting through its reinforced plating. They were armed and armored, their distinctive helmets and flowing robes marking them as enforcers of the galaxy's most infamous spice cartel. Reicher's lips curled into a faint sneer beneath his helmet.

"Targets identified," he whispered into the commlink. "Pyke Syndicate operatives. Light resistance, likely no reinforcements. Shuttle priority cargo unknown."

A veteran Legionnaire crouched beside him. Her voice was sharp, deliberate. "Orders, Lieutenant?"

Reicher didn't hesitate. "We hit hard and fast. No survivors. Secure the shuttle and extract what we can. Remember, we're not here for glory—our mission is hope. The people of these levels need to see strength, not chaos."

The Legionnaires nodded, their visors pulsing briefly as they acknowledged his command. Reicher raised his hand, a clenched fist signaling the assault.

The Sith Legionnaires moved as one, spreading out with precision. The moment was a heartbeat of silence, then violence erupted.

A deafening crack echoed through the corridor as Reicher's blaster rifle barked, sending a searing bolt through the head of the closest Pyke. Before the others could react, the Legionnaires opened fire, the dim corridor flashing with bursts of red as precision shots found their marks. The Pykes scrambled, shouting in their native tongue, but they were no match for the seasoned soldiers of the Sith Legion.

​

 

[Cyran Vaas]

​

Location: Coruscant, level 1313
Objective: Capture Pyke Captain Alive

“Well that doesn’t look good…” Cyran muttered to himself as he viewed the chaos unfold with the pykes. Crouched down on the roof of a neighboring building within the 1313 wasteland the bounty hunter peered through his helmet. The range finder flipped down to provide him with more data. He knew his target was there. Leading the group of pyke with whatever it was they were doing.

Cyran wasn’t entirely sure what had broken out down there and who they were fighting now. But it meant that the bounty hunter was going to need to act quickly if he was going to get his target alive, and from how things looked, their assailants were under a ‘shoot to kill’ policy.

Standing up on the ledge of the roof the thrusters on his jetpack burned and launched the bounty hunter down to the action. In the air he unholstered his target and didn't stand a chance, not unless Cyran got himself involved. He rocketed his way into the middle of the engagement straight to where his target was. At the end of his quick descent he touched down standing before his target and facing the legionaries. His vambrace conjured up a translucent personal combat shield to block a few of the incoming blaster bolts.

Despite being a bounty hunter he swooped in more like a guardian angel for his target, and by extension, the other pyke to a lesser degree. But he wasn’t here to help. Just to keep his target alive for capture. In swift retaliation Cyran aimed his DH-17 from the hip and rapidly shot out a few blue rings of energy. Stun rounds that collided into three of the legionnaires. ​

 

[The Vulptex]

Tag: Nero Drake Cyran Vaas Reicher Vax
Names: Lyra, Samantha, Alex, Beatrix
Equipment: See Bio
"Spoken" <Over private comms>​

Ever since Coruscant, the SIA had been on high alert. The failure to discover a farking star destroyer under the senate building wasn't exactly good for the morale of the agency, but one silver lining was the discovery of the DE warplans for the invasion.

Vulptex had been given a vacation for that. That was ages ago.

Jonyna Si and the Service Corps had done their best to slowly work down, level by level to restore what had been before, but every new level uncovered a new level of corruption and crime.

For the foursome that made up the Vulptex gang, it was old territory. The stomping grounds where they had made their name. A name that seemed to have slowly been forgotten over time, but a name they were happy to remind people of.

The Vulptex, Thief of Thieves.

<Eyes on target. Squad of sith troopers.>

<What the fark are they doing out here?! Trying to spread propoganda?>

<If they think the undercity is gonna buy what they're selling, they're nuts.>

<Keep comms quiet guys. I'm closing in.>

A shadow flew above. The blue of their coats and uniforms blending in with the shadows of the undercity, as they watched from above, hiding themselves from sight, and in the Force.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Level 1313, Coruscant
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Nero Drake Cyran Vaas The Vulptex

Reicher's visor pulsed as it processed the unexpected arrival. The flash of jetpack thrusters and the shimmer of a personal shield made the bounty hunter's intent clear—this was no stray mercenary. Whoever they were, they were here with a purpose. And their choice of stun rounds over lethal force spoke volumes.

The three Legionnaires hit by the blue rings quickly fell back, their PES systems taking a beating, although the bounty hunter's incredible aim was precise enough to slice through on the molecular level to get a direct hit on one Legionnaire, forcing the poor soul to collapse onto the ground incapacitated. Reicher's fist shot up, signaling the remaining soldiers to hold fire. The squad adjusted instantly, their weapons trained on the newcomer, but their fingers remained off the triggers. Discipline overrode instinct; their Lieutenant was making a call.

Reicher stepped forward, his movements deliberate, calculated. His crimson visor fixed on the armored figure standing protectively before the Pykes. The bounty hunter's stance was defensive but not overtly aggressive—this wasn't a bloodbath they were looking for. Not yet, at least.

His voice, low and steady, cut through the tension, amplified just enough by his helmet's modulator to carry over the ambient noise of the undercity.

"You've got our attention, bounty hunter. It's not every day you see someone armed with a weapon for every situation." Reicher said, his tone a careful balance of authority and curiosity. "Stun rounds tell me you're not here to kill. So, let's talk."

The Legionnaires remained still, their blasters aimed but unwavering. Reicher made a point to keep his own weapon lowered, though his posture made it clear he could snap it into firing position in an instant.

"You've got a choice here," he continued, his voice like a blade honed to precision. "You tell us who you are and why you're here, or this ends with you on the ground next to your friends." He inclined his head toward the Pykes, his tone sharpening. "If they even count as friends."

Reicher took one more step forward, just enough to assert his presence without encroaching too far. "We're not here for you. But if you stand between us and the shuttle, you make yourself a problem. We were tipped off that the shuttle contained medical supplies that we can distribute to the people of this level, of course that means the Pyke's are here looking to make drugs. You let us loot the shuttle and we will be on our merry way."

The air crackled with tension, the standoff teetering on the edge of chaos. Yet, Reicher's words hung heavy, offering the bounty hunter a path to something other than violence. It was a gamble, but one Reicher knew was worth taking—because whoever this bounty hunter was, they were clearly operating on a different agenda. And understanding that agenda might be the key to avoiding unnecessary bloodshed.

For now, anyway.

​

 

[Xeno]

1313
Tags: Reicher Vax , Cyran Vaas , The Vulptex , Nero Drake

Luxar | Klocto | Sword​

"We're not here for you. But if you stand between us and the shuttle, you make yourself a problem. We were tipped off that the shuttle contained medical supplies that we can distribute to the people of this level, of course that means the Pyke's are here looking to make drugs. You let us loot the shuttle and we will be on our merry way."

"That's not how things work down here, pal."

Xeno was on a patrol, as usual in regards to what he was doing in his free time. Being a famous musician was a hard thing to keep up with, so kicking back and cleaning up the streets was how he delt with it all. Besides, he had sins to atone for. This was a way of correcting it. The half-nagai was not restricted in his movement, having phased through the roof of the crashed shuttle to get himself on a perch within.

"Nothing comes for free, and those who bare the emblem of the Sith sure as chit aren't welcome here," he hissed. "You couldn't begin to comprehend the hell your kind have brought. This place belongs to the people, and you're a walking disaster waiting to happen. People like you have bounties out here. Bounties bring trouble."

A grin flashed across his face. Sith soldiers. Not actual Sith, but at least he could get some catharsis in kicking their asses. The bountyhunter could take them for all he cared. He just wanted them removed.

Xeno moved quickly, dropping a flashbang down into the cluster of Sith troopers. The moment light flashed to blind them, the half-Nagai drew his kendo and leapt down into the fray.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Level 1313, Coruscant
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Nero Drake , Cyran Vaas , The Vulptex , Xeno

The flashbang detonated with a loud crack and blinding light, but Reicher and his squad didn't flinch. The polarized anti-flash lenses in their helmets immediately dimmed the overwhelming brightness, and their advanced audio dampeners reduced the deafening sound to a manageable pop. The half-Nagai's attempt at disorientation was met with nothing but disciplined precision.

'This would of worked against Kainite troopers, but maybe he hasn't fought the Legion before...' Reicher thought.

"Flashbang? Cute, but that's not how things work down here, pal. " Reicher muttered through his comms, a tinge of irritation in his voice.

As the half-Nagai descended with his blade drawn, Reicher's Legionnaires moved in perfect synchronization. The squad parted to create an opening, while a legionnaire dragged the incapacitated member of the squad back into cover, giving Reicher a clear line of sight. He raised his vibroblade in a fluid motion, its edge humming with deadly energy, meeting the half-Nagai's kendo strike mid-air with a resounding clang. Sparks flew as the two blades clashed, the momentum of Xeno's leap stopped cold.

Reicher held his ground, pushing back against the half-Nagai's forceful strike. "You've got guts, I'll give you that," he growled, his modulated voice echoing with restrained anger. "But I will not fail these people!"

With a quick pivot, Reicher disengaged their locked blades and swept his leg out in a calculated move, aiming to knock Xeno off balance. Meanwhile, his Legionnaires fanned out, maintaining a defensive perimeter and keeping their weapons trained on the bounty hunter and the remaining Pykes.

Reicher knew that he wouldn't last in this battle, a man with a Sword made of bamboo was either dumb enough to get them both killed, or strong enough that a bamboo sword was all he needed to win, considering he nearly caught Reicher by surprise, certainly strong.

​

​

 

[Nero Drake]

LEVEL 1313
Reicher Vax Cyran Vaas The Vulptex Xeno ​

---

"Easy, pal. I can explain-"

Nero slowly turned to face the masked pyke who warbled something unfriendly in its native language. His attention settled on the cartel thug's raised blaster whose meaning was much easier to translate. Before either of them could elaborate the pyke staggered then fell to one side with a smoking wound in their torso. A grin crept across the kid's face as it dawned on him that a blaster just went off but he wasn't dead.

With much bigger things to worry about the remaining pykes ignored their prize so Nero jammed a data spike into the port for the shuttle's hatch. Laser blasts pinged off its hull and several more pykes fell while he twisted the spike back and forth feeling for the right frequency.

"Dank farik!" the roar of a jetpack drowned out Nero's curse of surprise.

A beskar clad mercenary landed between the shuttle and what looked like a squad of stormtroopers. Shield raised like some legendary warrior, the mandalorian absorbed a hail of blaster fire that by another stroke of scoundrel's luck would certainly have killed Nero. Trembling hands fumbled with the data spike before the shuttle unsealed itself.

The kid took one look back in time to glimpse a nagai beggar swing their stick at the stormtrooper captain. Violence on 1313 always drew out the desperate and fearless in search of supplies to scavenge. Nero climbed inside the shuttle and froze.

"I'm uh here to rescue-"

Metal hands slapped his bryar pistol aside and it went off ricocheting around the magnetically sealed interior. A closed fist struck Nero like a landspeeder knocking him back outside the shuttle. Gasping for air, he tried to crawl away from the Alliance security droid climbing out after him.

 

[Xeno]

1313
Tags: Reicher Vax , Nero Drake , Cyran Vaas , The Vulptex

Luxar | Klocto | Sword​

"You've got guts, I'll give you that," he growled, his modulated voice echoing with restrained anger. "But I will not fail these people!"

"Fail who, the people of Coruscant?" Xeno scoffed, "I never new a Sith Order with a conscious. Do you spare any of it for the slaves?"

He hissed as he spoke, bile in his tone when he mentioned slaves. Xeno had been born to slaves in the Sith Order, not that the man he was facing would know or care. The Kainite alone could see an entire planet reduced to subjugation. It was almost offensive that the Sith should dictate their efforts to stability abroad. No, it was offensive. Xeno was just well past the point of being decensitized to the crueler aspects of the galaxy.

Not decensitized enough to hate it at least.

A leg sweep came, but Xeno reacted in a far more aggressive manner. He wasn't Jedi. As the leg came, the half-Nagai stepped back and attempted to stop down on the foot of the soldier, using the Force to enhance his strength. Whatever the case was, this would be followed by a powerful blast of energy.

"This is my planet. You have no right to claim my people."

---

"Moron. Can't sit still to save his life."

Klocto, the Rodian, and Luxar, the Shard, were perched nearby, watching as the fearless leader of their band got to fighting the troopers of the Sith Order. He sighed, lighting his cigarrete as he watched the chaos unfold.

"It's like he saw red when he looked at their armor," the basist sighed, letting out a puff of smoke. "And to think he tells us to keep our cool..."

"Don't give the boss a hard time," Luxar urged. "He just needs to get it out of his system. Sith Order on our turf is givin' him unwanted memories, dig?"

The Rodian hung his head, giving a shrug.

"Me and him both, buddy," Klocto sighed. "Look, let's just take care of the Pikes, yeah? May as well make our dumbasses useful."

Metal hands knocked his bryar pistol aside and it went off ricocheting around the magnetically sealed interior. A closed fist struck Nero like a landspeeder knocking him back outside the shuttle. Gasping for air, he tried to crawl away from the Alliance security droid climbing out after him.

"WOOOOWEEE!!!!"

Luxar jumped down from the perch first, landing square atop the security droid. The sheer mass of his FLTCH-seried battle droid body all but crushed the other droid combined with the momentum of the drop, something he was quick to take note of. The Shard prodded at his accidental mechanical victim, his tone rather apologetic.

"Sorry, dude," the Shard's vocoder whirred. "Totally missed you when I jumped."

Klocto landed beside Luxar with a scoff, quickly taking note of the man scrambling for his life on the floor.

"Who the feth are you s'posed to be?" he asked. "Get your ass off the floor before someone flattens you like that scrap heap."

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Level 1313, Coruscant
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Nero Drake Cyran Vaas The Vulptex Xeno

Reicher barely had time to adjust as Xeno's foot came crashing down, the Force-enhanced strike driving him back a step. His armor groaned under the pressure, the composite material straining but holding. Reicher reacted instinctively, pivoting on his unpinned leg to regain balance, his vibroblade snapping into his hand in one fluid motion.

The half-Nagai's next move was a blast of raw energy, a violent pulse of Force power that ripped through the air. Reicher braced himself, his training kicking in, having fought to detain Sith at many academies, Reicher learned how not to get thrown around like a ragdoll, his sheer will, while he still was pushed back into a wall of crates, allowed him to maintain footing, especially the crucial Magno-Grip Soles and Palms built for such an occasion. The crimson glow of his visor burned brighter as he surged forward, closing the gap between them.

"You misunderstand me," Reicher growled, his voice sharp and deliberate through the modulator. "I don't claim your people, nor do I care to. I fight to bring order to the chaos, to give them a chance to live without fearing every shadow, to wake up knowing that a Pyke won't barge into their hovel and kill their only son, to understand that this galaxy can be safe for all!"

The vibroblade came up, its edge crackling faintly as he swung—not to kill, but to test. A quick, precise slash aimed at Xeno's midsection, meant to gauge his opponent's reaction more than anything else. Reicher's movements were calculated, methodical, the product of years on the battlefield where recklessness meant death.

The Legionnaires held their ground, their weapons trained on Xeno but waiting for Reicher's command. They were disciplined, well-drilled, their focus unshaken despite the chaotic confrontation.

​

 

[Cyran Vaas]

​

Location: Coruscant, level 1313
Objective: Capture Pyke Captain Alive
Tags: Xeno | Reicher Vax | Nero Drake

Cyran was just here for himself. He didn’t have much time to explain himself before another person arrived. Rather quickly the zeltron bounty hunter recognized the nagai man. Someone he’d met prior during an event. Before Cyran could explain what he really was doing here Xeno engaged the Sith troopers. Yet it provided the perfect distraction.

The unique pyke that Cyran stood before spoke up. Questioning if the freelancer was hired to assist them. While the chaos around them raged Cyran presented a device that displayed a holographic image of the pike. A digital bounty poster of the one he was ‘protecting’. If Cyran was known for anything as a bounty hunter, it’s that he was never killed. It was his claim to fame.

Seeing the bounty the pyke cursed Cyran before drawing their weapon. But the bounty hunter was quicker. Hitting them square in the chest with a stun round. Before they fell back to the ground Cyran’s grappling line shot out from his vambrace around the pyke and yanked him towards Cyran. Their limp body collapsed onto the zeltron as he quickly hoisted them up on his shoulder with practiced ease.

His target was acquired, so now he didn’t need to stick around. The bounty hunter turned to Where Xeno and the soldiers were engaging and arguing. “Play nice you two, because I hope to see you on stage again, Xeno.” Cyran called out. The hardened bounty hunter flinched some as he saw a guy get flung out from the shuttle by a droid. Wincing some from the impact they took. Once more Cyran aimed his weapon up. Towards the security droid in case it went after him. Only to find it demolished by another machine entity. “There's always a bigger fish…” The bounty hunter muttered to himself. Clearly the longer he stayed the more danger he’ll be in. With his unconscious target slung over his shoulder tightly, Cyran activated his jetpack and blasted off. ​

 

[The Vulptex]

Tag: Cyran Vaas Xeno Reicher Vax Nero Drake
Names: Lyra, Samantha, Alex, Beatrix
Equipment: See Bio​

Sith troopers, rock star vigilantes, pyke goons, mando bounty hunters, and security droids.

This was a party now.

<I'm in position Vixen. Eyes on target.>

<Take the shot.>

A bolt flew true, silent as opposed to a normal blaster bolt, nor shining like one either. Aimed for one of the sith troopers, the shot was fired from far off, near the other side of the neighborhood.

Then a follow up. A blast of smoke filling near a meter and a half of volume went off, filling the air with baffleweave and anti-laser aerosol, as two, no three, no, near twenty masked figures descended on the sith troopers. Some went for feint slashes at their armor, others went to attach devices to their armor such as EMP grenades or Frag grenades, while others fired into the crowd of soldiers, wanting nothing more than to sew chaos.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Level 1313, Coruscant
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Nero Drake Cyran Vaas The Vulptex Xeno

One unfortunate Legionnaire, a woman of the family O'Connor, a former slave who had risen to join the Legion, who volunteered for the mission to Coruscant, felt the powerful discharge of an almost unknown and lethal bolt of plasma, which broke her shield at just the wrong place and seared through her armor, heavily injuring her right shoulder. She had just dragged another Legionnaire, of the family Keros, the victim of a stun round to safety so that he could regain consciousness, unfortunately, this put her outside the effective range of the smoke.

She sat, the pain unbearable, but she knew her duty, she was the only one who could get them out of here. She quickly began a radio transmission to the FOB they were currently operating from. In the tone of a tortured victim she spoke. <This... is Legionnaire O'Conner to Haven, Command squad has... unknown casualties, combat effectiveness at... approximately 75%, requesting Medivac... and support, over.>

The smoke billowed around Reicher and his Legionnaires, a chaotic veil of baffleweave and anti-laser aerosol that distorted visibility and threw the battlefield into disarray. His visor automatically switched to thermal optics, cutting through the confusion with a sharp, calculated efficiency. The unmistakable hum of EMP devices and the clash of vibroblades against armor filled the air, blending with the chaos of shouted commands and distant blaster fire.

<Switch to infrared,> Reicher barked through the comms. His voice was firm, commanding, and carried the authority of someone used to taking charge in situations spiraling out of control, although he was still in his duel with Xeno . <Hold formation. Do not break ranks!>

The Legionnaires responded instantly, their training kicking in as their visors adjusted to pierce the smokescreen. Blasters snapped up, aimed with precision at the indistinct figures darting through the haze. The Legionnaires tightened their formation, moving with the precision of a well-drilled unit. Each motion was deliberate, every blaster shot calculated. The smokescreen was no longer an obstacle—it was an advantage for soldiers who knew how to operate in the chaos.

However, the numbers were certainly grim, around twenty agents attacked them, closing in for melee and to attempt to stick grenades to disable their shield generators, a number that spelt doom considering their training was equal to or excelled their own. He could only hope that reinforcements would arrive soon, or that they could come to any sort of reason. He would let out his anger through dialogue.

In a righteous and furious tone, he spoke out loud to all those who had jumped his squad. "We come to destroy drug traders and vagabonds, to help the poor and sick and this is how we are repaid? You would rather kill Sith than the Pykes, so much for morals!"

​

 

[Xeno]

1313
Tags: Cyran Vaas , The Vulptex , Nero Drake , Reicher Vax

Luxar | Klocto | Sword​

It seemed the Mandalorian had his mark. One less piece on the board.

"We come to destroy drug traders and vagabonds, to help the poor and sick and this is how we are repaid? You would rather kill Sith than the Pykes, so much for morals!"

"Don't grandstand, hypocrite," Xeno snapped. "Help the sick and poor? Is that what the Sith did when they hunted the Aang-Tii like animals? We know what your aid brings, more than your brainwashed little head could even process. You are the same as the Pykes."

Xeno was hardly phased when the man slashed at his gut. It was predicatble, especially for a man who was trained to assassinate people stronger than him from a young age. He had seen the hell of the Sith first hand. It had been made to him what their regime was capable of the first time he heard the neck of a civilian snap when he was dragged off to witness a raid on a small village. A thousand red blades had he witnessed, all used to gut another like a pig. There was no security or hope in the sensless violence and hunger for power.

He would not bow to slavers anymore. The former Sith deflected the blade with his own, stepping back as the battlefield changed. It was hazy, but he could see. The Force was his eyes.

"This is no place for slavers and murderers," he hissed. "Let me show you the door."

The air swelled with energy, the half-Nagai gathering his strength in the form of telekinetic energy. He focused in on the sounds of whirring machines, the blasters of the Sith legionares. He grabbed hold of their weapons with his mind, focusing on them with a great deal of strain...

Then crushed all of their weapons in an instant as though they were grapes.

 

[Nero Drake]

LEVEL 1313
Reicher Vax Cyran Vaas The Vulptex Xeno ​

---

Nero tumbled out the shuttle landing hard on his back. He gasped for air scrambling away from the security model unfurling to its full height as the droid emerged. Bright photoreceptors glowered down at the kid until at the last moment it was burst apart by the chassis of an even bigger, meaner looking combat model.

"Who the feth are you s'posed to be?" he asked. "Get your ass off the floor before someone flattens you like that scrap heap."

"Aren't you..." Nero wheezed, "the bassist for...Sithspit?"

He didn't wait for an answer. Nero threw a vibroknife at the rodian before leaping into a conveniently timed smoke grenade. Tears streamed from his unprotected eyes. Unable to see where he was going the kid stumbled into a stormtrooper who turned their blaster on him shortly before some kind of ninja stabbed them through a weak spot in their armor.

Nero staggered out of the smoke and straight into the crosshairs of two more Sith legionnaires. He raised both hands in surrender and the soldiers glanced briefly at each other before their rifles disintegrated in flames. Thinking quickly, the swoop biker swung his steel toed boot up for a low blow laying one trooper out while they were both stunned.

An armored right cross from the other soldier knocked Nero back off his feet.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Level 1313, Coruscant
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Nero Drake Cyran Vaas The Vulptex Xeno

The chaos of the battlefield had reached its zenith, a maelstrom of smoke, fire, and clashing ideologies that seemed to reflect the fractured state of the galaxy itself. Reicher Vax stood amidst it all, his vibroblade humming faintly as he blocked Xeno 's strikes with a disciplined ferocity. The half-Nagai's taunts, dripping with venom, rang in his ears, but Reicher's focus was unshaken. His thermal optics flickered, recalibrating to adjust to the distortions in the Force as Xeno unleashed his power.

Then came the sound: a sickening crunch, metal screaming as it was warped and twisted. Reicher's visor confirmed it— Xeno had used the Force to crush every blaster in his squad. The once-precision weapons were now little more than twisted wreckage. His Legionnaires were momentarily stunned, the chaos of the battlefield compounded by the loss of their ranged advantage.

Reicher's voice erupted over the comms, cutting through the disarray. "Fallback positions! Draw melee weapons and hold the line! We are Legionnaires—we do not falter!"

The Legionnaires, veterans of countless skirmishes, responded instantly. Vibroblades hissed to life, their edges glowing faintly as they were drawn from their sheaths. The squad tightened their formation, shields raised and weapons poised, a wall of steel and discipline against the storm of chaos.

Reicher turned his attention back to Xeno , his tone sharp and unyielding. "You think this is about loyalty to a broken Empire? You think I stand here for Sith Lords who spill blood for power they don't deserve?" His blade slashed through the smoke, meeting Xeno's with a resounding clang. "I fight because I believe in something more. Order. Strength. A galaxy where the innocent don't have to fear cowards who hide in the shadows, pretending their vendettas are justice!"

The energy around Xeno swirled dangerously, but Reicher's resolve only deepened. He took a step forward, attempting to drive the duel toward a narrow corner of the battlefield where the Force-wielder's movements would be restricted. "You call me a hypocrite, yet you crush weapons in the hands of soldiers fighting to protect civilians. You rant about oppression, but what do you bring here? More chaos. More death. You're no savior—you're just another storm in a galaxy already drowning."

Behind him, he heard the thud of Nero Drake being knocked to the ground. The man's voice rang out, panicked but defiant. The sound grounded Reicher, reminding him of the stakes. Civilians—unarmed, untrained, and caught in this battle—were still at risk.

Reicher pivoted, his voice booming over the battlefield. "Legionnaires! Defensive formation around the man! Protect him at all costs!"

His squad began to shift, moving in slow, practiced unison to shield the innocent man caught in the crossfire. Even with their blasters gone, their shields and blades created an impenetrable barrier, holding the line as the enemy pressed forward, some were cut down in the onslaught with wounds, their cries starting to increase Reicher's fear of a humanitarian mission botched, but right now no thoughts could surface, at least as they retreated they would be out of the smoke and could reengage with normal sight and without the interference of the particles of the smoke grenade, Multi-Frequency Targeting and Acquisition Systems and Multi-Spectral Target Assessors would also enable the kill hits they needed to take down these lethal ninjas.

A Legionnaire approached from around a pile of crates, judging by the inverted color scheme of her armor, white with blue accents and the obvious patches and symbols present on the armor, she was a medic. She could go save the two Legionaries currently out of combat at the side, one still screaming her lungs out, but she chose instead to attend the civilian who had attacked her fellow Legionaries, those same Legionaries now stood in front of this man, Nero Drake intent on getting him out of here.

The young medic grabbed her equipment and began a quick battlefield diagnosis "Can you here my voice?" she said in a very clinical tone, almost not fit for such a chaotic battle.

Reicher glanced toward Xeno, his voice lowering to a growl. "You want to see what strength looks like? It's not in destruction or rebellion. It's in standing your ground when the galaxy falls apart. If you want to crush something, then try me."

He surged forward, his vibroblade slicing through the haze, aiming not just for Xeno's defenses but for his unrelenting fury. Each strike was calculated, designed to draw Xeno's attention away from the Legionnaires and the civilian they now protected. Reicher's movements were relentless but disciplined, a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him. He knew that he was starting to lose, but he needed to fight on so his squad and now the civilian could evacuate safely.

This wasn't just a fight for survival—it was a fight for the principles Reicher had built his life around. And he wasn't about to let them crumble.

​

 

[Xeno]

1313
Tags: The Vulptex , Reicher Vax , Nero Drake

Luxar | Klocto | Sword​

"You want to see what strength looks like? It's not in destruction or rebellion. It's in standing your ground when the galaxy falls apart. If you want to crush something, then try me."

Blow after blow came, a flurry that Xeno's reflexes matched with resolve. It was baffling though. The action was clearly haphazard, as though it were trying to draw his attention away from... the civilian? There was no way this guy thought he was here to attack innocent people.

"ENOUGH!"

Cold energy burst out from Xeno as he was overcome by frustration. A wave of ice spread out like a dark mass, encasing the surrounding area in rapid succession. It was reactionary, but effective, as those not able to react with lightning speed would find themselves with thick ice up to their ankles. Some higher. Pykes and Sith Order legionaries alike were caught. The half-Nagai wasn't going to discriminate between the two. They were equals here. The Sith medic and the man crawling away were far enough to be spared.

"Aren't you..." Nero wheezed, "the bassist for...Sithspit?"

He didn't wait for an answer. Nero threw a vibroknife at the rodian before leaping into a conveniently timed smoke grenade.

Klocto was quick to catch the blade of the knife between his fingers, frowning at the man's sudden aggression.

"Something I said?" he muttered.

"Get the Pykes in order!" Xeno snapped. "Don't let a single one get away!"

Klocto and Luxar nodded, quick to wade their way through the fresh field of ice towards a nearby group of frozen Pykes, whom began to fire on them. Nothing Luxar's droid body wasn't equipped for. From there, Xeno turned his gaze back to the primary legionary.

"Look, kid, I couldn't give a rat's ass about what you think you're doing here," he hissed. "If you wanna protect the innocent, the Sith Order is the last place to find the peace from darkness you want. Your Emperor is a twisted man who fosters oppression, props himself up as a God, and he has actively failed to end slavery amongst the followers of Carnifex. As we speak, thousand suffer in the bonds of slavery, worked to the bone only to be sacrificed to the whims of those who only know greed and hunger. If you want to protect civilians, march your ass back to the Sith Order and liberate your fething people. Every day you ignore that truth they bleed and die for your Order. The people of Coruscant are resiliant. We will take up arms to defend ourselves from the Pykes. Waste your time here and you do a discervise to all who suffer under the regiem you bare the mark of."

Xeno turned, letting out a mutter as he kicked over a crate to get the frustration out of his system. The ice encasing the base of the crate shattered, sending shards tumbling with it. Angry. He was goddamn angry, and for good reason. His parents were nothing to the Sith, little more than tools to be used til their dying breath. The only value he had was as a weapon because of a rare gift that he hadn't chosen. The torture of it all replayed in the back of his mind over and over again, a nightmare he may have been free of, yet played out in his dreams all the same.

"Tell me what the feth you've done for the slaves of your Order," he snapped. "Your emperor tolerates them in the Kainite. The Kainite actively creates them. Why do they not deserve your effort? Give me one fething reason why!?"

 

[The Vulptex]

Tag: Xeno Nero Drake Reicher Vax
Names: Lyra, Samantha, Alex, Beatrix
Equipment: In Bio​

As the wave of ice crashed over the platform, the twenty figures of blue and white disappeared.

<Fark, that was close.>

<Fall back. We've still got Eagle keeping overwatch.>

The two figures disappeared into the dark of the city shadows, letting their coats allow them to dissolve into the icy wind. Had they been slower, they too would've been trapped in the cage of snow, but they were trained to be better. Smarter. Tougher. Sharper.

Another set of silent, invisible bolts sang through the air. The SIA had no interest in negotiating morals with sith, and the Vulptex gang certainly didn't either. EMP grenades finally went off, as did frag grenades.

This wasn't a day for grandstanding. This was a clean up job. Sith infiltration being squashed at the source.

 

[Nero Drake]

LEVEL 1313
Reicher Vax Cyran Vaas The Vulptex Xeno ​

---

"Not the face!"

Nero covered up with both hands in fear of the stormtrooper looming over him. He waited to feel armored fists raining down or the cold steel of a vibroblade but it never came.

Reicher pivoted, his voice booming over the battlefield. "Legionnaires! Defensive formation around the man! Protect him at all costs!"​

He flinched when the legionnaire extended a hand to help him up. Nero cautiously rose to his feet, offering the other fallen soldier nursing their groin from his dirty fighting a sheepish grin. One of the stormtroopers shined a scanner in his face half-blinding him.

"Can you here my voice?" she said in a very clinical tone, almost not fit for such a chaotic battle.​

Thinking on his feet Nero swayed a little and blinked at her in confusion. Compounding his unreasonable good fortune the would be saviors stood between Nero and a sudden wave of supernatural ice. The Sith medic struggled to free herself and he seized this one last desperate chance.

"Nothing personal, love."

A small vibro punch dagger emerged from retractable wrist blades concealed underneath his bantha leather jacket. Nero grabbed the stormtrooper and pressed the holdout weapon against her throat where the unarmored flesh was most vulnerable.

"Everyone be cool!" Nero announced from behind his hostage, "I just want...a power converter."

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Level 1313, Coruscant
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak.
Tag: Nero Drake Cyran Vaas The Vulptex Xeno

The battlefield had become a storm of chaos, the lines between allies, enemies, and innocent bystanders blurring beneath the weight of frustration, violence, and ideology. The ice creeping over the platform slowed the advance of Reicher's Legionnaires, even freezing the unprepared, their precise formation compromised by the chilling wave unleashed by Xeno. Reicher himself stood firm, holding firm during the attack, his magno-grip soles anchoring him to the frozen ground, his visor glowing ominously as he absorbed the situation.

Xeno's tirade echoed through the cold air, his words cutting not just as accusations but as wounds carved into Reicher's sense of purpose. Slavery, oppression, the Kainite—the truth behind the Sith Empire's failings was undeniable, even to someone as disciplined as Reicher Vax. But acknowledgment of truth didn't mean surrender. It meant strategy. It meant action.

Reicher's voice boomed over the battlefield, calm yet commanding, a blade sharpened for persuasion. "Enough of this sanctimony!" His visor turned toward the half-Nagai, his tone steady but firm. "You speak of the Sith Empire's failures as if I don't see them. As if I don't know them. Yes, there is rot. There is corruption. I fight every day to cleanse it. Not for the Kainite, not for their false gods, but for the people who deserve more than to be caught in the crossfire of greed and ideology!"

He gestured broadly to the battlefield, ice glittering beneath the dim light. "Look around you. Do you think this is the answer? Chaos breeding chaos, death feeding death? The people of Coruscant, the slaves you speak of—they don't need more warriors of rage and destruction. They need discipline. They need protection. And they need it from those with the strength to break the cycle, not perpetuate it!"

"Already, I have liberated Polis Massa, giving them the strength they need to thrive. Don't accuse me of being a bystander."

As he spoke, his thermal optics caught the sudden movement of figures vanishing into the shadows—the elite operatives who had infiltrated his lines, striking with the precision of surgical tools. His admiration for their skill was begrudging but genuine. "Whoever you are," he muttered under his breath, his voice modulating in private comms to his squad, "you've shown me the limits of my own tactics today. But if you think this is victory, know that I will learn. And next time, you won't leave so cleanly, trust me, you have given me some inspiration."

The sudden blast of EMPs and frags tore through his lines, scattering his Legionnaires and forcing them to recalibrate, casualties were numerous but it was not the time for Reicher to focus on them, that could be left for the medic.. Reicher clenched his fists, rage bubbling beneath his calm exterior, but he didn't falter. "Legionnaires!" he barked through the comms, his voice slicing through the chaos like a vibroblade. "Regroup! Defensive formation! Prioritize casualties! We are not beaten yet!"

He scanned the field for the next threat, and it didn't take long to find it. Nero Drake, the scrappy opportunist, had taken one of his medics hostage. The young man's dagger glinted against the bare flesh of her throat, and his desperate bravado made the situation even more volatile.

Reicher raised a hand to signal his squad to hold fire, his tone shifting to a calculated calm. "Nero Drake," he said, his voice resonating across the icy platform. "You've made an impressive mess of things. But if you think for a second that holding one of my medics hostage will get you out of here alive, you're sorely mistaken."

He took a step forward, his crimson visor locked on Nero. The glow intensified, casting an eerie light across the frozen battlefield. "I admire your audacity, but audacity without wisdom is a death sentence. You want a power converter? Fine. You can have one. But if you so much as flinch in the wrong direction, you won't make it to the edge of this platform."

Reicher's tone hardened, a warning edged with steel. "Release her. Now. Prove you're smart enough to survive this day. Because if you kill her, there will be no bargaining, no escape, no mercy."

He gestured subtly to two unfrozen Legionnaires, their weapons held steady, waiting for his signal. Reicher's posture remained calm, his voice unwavering. He gave Nero a chance, but his mind was already calculating contingencies. Should Nero make the wrong move, Reicher would ensure the man's audacity didn't last beyond this encounter.​

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