[youtube]https://youtu.be/8eqetqwcWEo[/youtube]
Dorin chuckled, shaking his head.
"No. Just...breathe. Let your mind relax." Dorin took a deep breath, now kneeling completely in front of the lightsaber, his hands rested on his knees. He closed his eyes, and reached out with the Force, arms coming up to his sides, palms faced upwards as he began to quiet his mind. He could see the lightsaber before him, even though his eyes were closed. It was time to see what secrets were begging to be revealed. He pushed further, projecting his consciousness to the entire room, allowing [member="Einon"] to share in his discovery. He reached forward with both his hands, and picked up the lightsaber, holding it close to his chest as he began probing the hilt with the Force. The ailment of the crystal was overwhelming, almost like a foul odor. He was tempted to turn back, but then, it happened. There was a sort of mental click, and then...
[youtube]https://youtu.be/f_sMuo8Lujg[/youtube]
3637 BBY, Somewhere near the Denova System
"Damage report."
"All primary systems functional, Sir, minor hull damage on port fang, slight power loss to the gun bank."
"Communication, Hail all vessels, have them relay combat readiness. I want Seventy-Five Percent effectiveness or better. If they are unable, drop formation and reroute to Dromund Kaas."
"Affirmative Sir, broadcasting now."
A moment of silence. The Founder paced back and forth on the bridge of his Harrower Dreadnought, watching quietly as ships continued to pour into the rally point. His fleet was...what, one of three? Four, if you counted the capital defense forces. It had all started...how long had it been...three months ago? He smiled under his helmet grimly. All the fighting between the Republic and Empire, and yet nothing had been as exhilarating as the last three months. He paused for a moment, letting his thoughts wander. He had allies in the Mandalorian systems. Were they even still alive? Probably. Mandalorians were tough bastards. It was the first thing he admired about them. His son was still on Korriban, but he knew that if the worst were to happen, he was to get to the bunker on Tatooine as quickly as he could. And, when he came of age...Well, Yavin would come later.
"Sir, we have another ship on scanners...It's The Isolation."
His smile widened as he turned.
"Very good. Scramble the support vessels, see to it that she is ready for our next conflict."
A rumble of static was heard, before a voice filtered through the bridge. The crews had grown accustomed to the two over the years, and had instinctively opened a communication channel.
"Iron Fist, this is Isolation. We held out as long as we could, but they drove us off."
"You did all you could. What's our status?"
"Octarchy forces suffered heavy losses. Including the Resolute."
The Founder felt his throat tighten. The Resolute. Flagship of their entire fleet.
"Darth Ilstera?"
"Dead, sir. You're in command now. The Fleet is standing by for your orders."
Dead. He knew it could happen to any of them, but...so soon? He considered his options for a moment.
"Recall the fleets. It's time to go home."
"Recalling fleets, aye. Broadcasting across all Octarchy frequ--Sir, I'm getting something. Early warning emergency broadcast."
Verros turned to look at his communications officer, already knowing what he was going to say.
"Dromund Kaas is under siege, sir."
"How long have they got?"
"Tactical information incoming from Darth Thalak... Our estimates say three days, maybe four."
"Then we set course for..." He was interrupted by another voice. His tactical officer.
"Sir. Early Warning broadcast. Second fleet projected attack within hours."
Verros turned and hurried towards the console.
"Correction. Two fleets. Coruscant is reporting siege also." "And the third fleet?" "Unknown. Current projections...Commenor. The heart of the Republic supply chain."
Verros cursed under his breath. He was no friend of the Republic. But he couldn't fight this war alone.
"Time to arrival, best estimate?" "Five hours, sir."
Verros nodded, considering his options.
"What would you have us do, Sir?"
A moment of silence.
"I want the fleet mobilized. All of it. If it answers to the Octarchy Flag, set course for Commenor. Lord Arvalker, whatever connections we have that aren't devoted to Coruscant or Dromund Kaas, call them in. Tell them Verros says it's time."
Four Hours Later, Commenor Orbit
"Communication, as soon as we are within range, I want a direct connection to the highest ranking official I can get."
"Affirmative Sir...Acquiring signal..."
"Tactical, what's our current readiness?"
"Strength estimated to be 89% effectiveness. Darths Selkur, Dovix, and Alhur estimate arrival within two hours."
Verros stood at the helm, hands folded behind his back, dressed in his complete War Armor. He was no stranger to war, and yet there was a pit at the bottom of his stomach. The Force was speaking to him. Telling him that this was the end. The final stand.
"Sir, we have a connection. Awaiting your orders."
"Patch me through. Who did we get?"
"Royal Family, Sir."
Verros reached up to remove his helmet, revealing his battered and scarred face, now adorned with Sith war paint. His crest perched upon his brow to shield his true visage. But it was enough. As he stared at the hologram before him, he felt the recoil as the person he spoke with recognized him.
"Sith! We told you never to return! Brave of you to do so while our capital burns!" Verros's neutral face turned to a scowl quickly, and he snapped, interrupting the man on the other end of the line.
"I am not here to destroy you, whelp, I am here to save you. The day has come, Dromund Kaas and Coruscant are under attack. If we are to survive this war, we do it today, or we face subjugation. My people can buy you time, but whatever ship you have, passenger, cargo, war, I. Don't. Care. Load it with supplies, and get them en route to the real fight. Is that understood?"
The man's confusion was visible.
"Is that understood, man!?" "Y-yes my lord! Right away!"
"Sir...Contact."
"Then get to it. We'll buy you all the time we can. Good luck." Verros turned and strode towards the viewscreen, pulling his helmet back on. Sure enough, there was the first of the Infinite Fleet. Scout ships.
"Open the channel." He paused as a fleetwide channel was opened.
"The time has come. The galaxy burns and we are all that stands in her way. The enemy is upon us and there is nowhere left to run. The line has been drawn. Here, at Commenor. I want it understood that you, brave men and women of the Empire, are heroes." He turned to look at his immediate crew, all paused at their stations, and watching him.
"Our actions here today will buy time for our brothers and sisters fighting on the home front. No room for fear, no room for doubt. And though we may die today, it will be a glorious death. For the Empire. All hands to battle stations. Red Alert."
It was then that the warships began flooding into the system. Verros watched quietly for a moment, then turned, and settled into his command throne.
"All ships, Defensive pattern, just like we did at Denova. Bring all guns to bear on the enemy."
His hands came together, elbows resting on the armrests of his throne, fingers touching at the tips in front of his face.
"Carriers, launch all fighters. Bombers, you have your targets. Interceptors, sweep for boarding parties. We've had three months to fight these bastards, let's act like we learned something." Gallows humor at its finest. He had no doubt that any being under his command was anything other than the best the Empire had to offer. He paused a moment, looking around to the bridge crew, all looking to him, awaiting orders. A moment of doubt clouded his mind as another being approached his throne, standing at attention off Verros's right hand.
"Are you with me?" "You've led us this far, My Lord. This whole fleet would die for you and your cause."
Verros leaned back in his throne, as the last of the fighters trailed away from the hanger bays.
"Well, if that's what they're expecting, I'd hate to keep them waiting. All ships. Fire."
Thirteen Hours Later, Commenor Orbit
"Systems failing, We're evacuating. What's your status, Verros?"
Verros shoved another droid away from him, lightsaber spinning around to cleave through another pair. Most of his bridge crew were dead or dying. The entire command deck of the ship had been sealed off to preserve what little atmosphere was left. Verros's ship was in bad shape, but it was holding. What little crew was left had abandoned their positions to hold off the boarding parties, leaving the automated defenses to control the ship. Verros looked up at the tactical display. Only four ships left. Even now, he could feel the guns buffeting his shields.
"Shields at fifty percent and falling."
"You can't do any more good up there. It's time to leave."
Verros didn't respond immediately. He turned and threw his lightsaber, carving through another column of battle droids charging towards him. He plucked his saberstaff from his belt, and activated it, spinning this way and that in a deadly dance amidst the boarders. He was the only member of the crew remaining on the bridge. He paused near the control console, and sent a hail to the planet below. He saw that a connection was made, but he didn't see to who.
"There's nothing more we can do. If you have any more ships, they have five minutes to clear orbit." "Understood. Thank you. For everything."
Verros turned, using the force to slam the blast doors to the bridge shut, crushing the few droids that were caught in the doorway.
"We'll be back. I promise." He cut the channel, opening a ship-wide hail.
"All hands, prepare to jump into hyperspace."
He reached out, using the Force to control the ship. He angled it towards their escape vector, and accelerated to the ship's maximum velocity. The stars began to bend around the viewscreen, and Verros felt a tear slip down his cheek. His armies destroyed, his fleet annihilated, He had thrown everything at the Infinite Empire, and had been driven to retreat. Perhaps this was to be his legacy after all. As the stars slipped past, and the ship lurched into hyperspace...
Current Day, Commenor
...Dorin awoke, keeling forward onto all fours for a second, gasping at the strain. He was alive. And well, from what he could see. And still reeling at what he had just witnessed...