Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Aftermath

It had been nearly a week since the Battle of Commenor. Dorin didn't expect to find himself back here already, and yet here he was, sitting in a small bar near the palace district. He hadn't exactly announced his presence. He sat in silence, forehead resting between his left thumb and forefinger. Though a drink sat nearby, it went untouched. He stared blankly down at the datapad in front of him.

Much had happened in the week since the battle. Starting with that strange vision he had when he struck down the Spectre. Of course, at this point, it was all too clear what the vision had meant. And so, nearly a week later, Dorin had returned to Commenor, having confirmed his suspicions. His stomach growled quietly, reminding him that he hadnt eaten anything. Today? Two days? Dorin didnt remember the last time he ate. Or wanted to eat.

Instead, he was consumed by a desire to pursue his original goal. But he had run into a dead end. The spectre was no coincidence. Unfriendly towards the Sith Occupation forces, bearing a resemblance to the ancient Sith of Vitiate's Empire... It had to be a sign. The mysterious being from the Order's records had surely been here. He'd checked the college, did some asking around near the palace, but ultimately was unsuccessful. So now he sat here. In this tiny bar. Wondering just what he was supposed to do next. A whole galaxy in front of him, and for the first time in his life, Dorin was lost.

[member="Einon"]
 

Doyle

Guest
Einon was tired, yet strangely in a good mood as well. Commenor had been liberated and saved many of their resources from being plundered by the Sith. Without the help of their allies and friends, the liberation surely wouldn't of happened as swiftly. Not to mention that it was lucky that Kay was the only member of the Royal family to be held hostage. If the Prince or Princess had been caught...Things might have gone differently.

Now it was time to breathe before the rebuilding would begin. The wounded were being tended to, both physical and emotional, yet the Commenori took it in stride. They were Masters of their own domain again, as they should be.

Yet the liberation from the Sith came at a cost. No longer were they clear of hostilities by the First Order. Now they could easily become targets. Commenor's neutrality was lost. But sometimes that was the price for freedom. And no Commenori would trade that. At least most wouldn't.

After another day of debriefings, Einon made his way to one to one of the smaller bars that was on the way to his apartment from the Palace. To his surprise, [member="Dorin Arkx"] was there. He never did get to thank the man for his aid. Now the opportunity had presented itself.

Einon approached Dorin and sat on the stool beside him. "Need a drink? It's on me, this time."
 
Dorin glanced over at [member="Einon"] as he sat down. "I was wondering how long it would take you to find me." Dorin looked at the drink he had already ordered for a moment, then picked it up, taking a small sip. He set it back on the bar, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand. "That's...generous of you, but...you've already done more than enough."

Dorin sighed quietly, shoulders slumping ever so slightly. On closer inspection, Dorin looked rough. He hadn't slept for a few days, and the patchy stubble around his chin suggested that he'd not bothered to shave either. "I...owe you a great deal, Einon." He turned to look at Einon directly. Or...at least as directly as he could with the blindfold he was wearing. A custom of his people, he had replaced his visor with a simple strip of black cloth that was light enough to see through, and yet heavy enough to filter out excess light. "First and foremost, an apology for leaving when I did. When...when the Spectre was felled...I saw something. A vision. I had to see if it was true."

Dorin fell silent for a moment, clearly struggling to find the words. He looked back down at his drink, and finally spoke, hardly a whisper. The tremor in his voice all too apparent to those close enough to hear him. "If...If you hadn't hired me...I would have been there. But now..." Dorin picked up his mug again and stared at it for a moment, before knocking back a large gulp. He set the mug back on the bar, and sighed again. Needing a moment to try and maintain what little composure he still had, Dorin reached out, and tapped the screen of his datapad. A news broadcast began to play.

"...Strike on Arbra has the local population on edge. Though the dreadnought did not target anything of a civilian nature, many are still looking to the skies, wondering if it might return. Reports are reaching us that the temple grounds are decimated, and is now little more than a mass graveyard. The First Order is denying all involvement in the attack, the Empire is refusing to comment. Many people are still in shock at what has been witnessed here, and many more are wondering what will become of us now that the great order has been reduced to rubble..."

Dorin turned back to Einon, taking one shuddering breath, and saying, "There's nothing left."
 

Doyle

Guest
Einon smirked as it seemed that [member="Dorin Arkx"] was expecting him. Funny that. He signaled to the bartender that he wanted an ale and then turned to his..comrade?...Friend? It was clear that something was wrong with him. He had taken a hit, and from the looks of it, an emotional one.

He furrowed his brows as he listened to Dorin explain, all the while trying to show concern. But Einon was so used to hiding his emotions that he wasn't sure if it came across. He took his drink and had a gulp. "You helped cut off the theft of supplies by the Sith.
Anything above that is just a bonus."


Now he looked to the datapad and frowned with what he was seeing. Another planet decimated. But by who? Sith more than likely. Or the First Order as suggested. And now he knew why Dorin was behaving in the way that he was. Survivor's guilt. He was meant to be there, but served Commenor's interests instead. "I'm sorry. Such a thing is what we worked to prevent here.
How can I help?"
He felt that he owed it to the man.
 
Dorin was quiet for a long moment as he stared at his drink. He sighed quietly, then said, "If I were there, I would be dead too. It wasn't a mindless assault, it was an attack. They targeted my people and mine alone. The rest of Arbra's population remains unharmed."

He took a full of his drink and signalled for a new one. He turned to [member="Einon"] and offered a soft, from smile. "And your help is appreciated, but...I don't know there's much you can do." His head bowed for a second, mulling things over. Ah. Why not. Not like he was making any headway otherwise. "Now that I am the last of my kind, I want to know just what legacy exactly we leave behind. The identity of our founder has been lost to time, as has his legacy. His true legacy. That was why I came here. The one place we knew he had been. For two weeks now I've scoured the planet, all of your records, all of your monuments...nothing."

Dorin raised his head to look directly at Einon again. "It would seem that whoever this 'Last Bastion of Commenor' was, he left no trace of his visit. So, with nothing more to go on, I feel as though it is time for me to depart Commenor. Maker willing, I will find his trail elsewhere in the galaxy. But, I do not seek to make a hermit of myself. Should your people have need of me again, I will always be happy to assist."
 

Doyle

Guest
So it was a fully targeted attack, was it? Just what exactly was [member="Dorin Arkx"] ? From what Einon knew, he was a form of hunter, not really of people though. And he could handle the Sith Warbeasts pretty well.

Einon took another swig of his drink. He studied the man while he spoke, not just his words, but the way that he held himself as well. He seemed defeated. That was part and parcel of survivor's guilt, but there was more there too.

Now he had a choice to make. All avenues that Dorin had used lead to nothing. There was one more for him, but it was a secret, and one that only a few are aware of.

What would Kay do? What would she think? Would the Queen approve? Or would she consider it some sort of betrayal? His brows furrowed as he mulled it over. The Queen was the helpful sort, and given Dorin's actions at the Warehouse district, Commenor owed him. So if there was going to be trouble, Einon decided he'd take the fall.

Finishing his drink, he stood up from his stool and placed a firm hand on Dorin's shoulder. "I know of a place that could hold what you seek. Care to look before you ship out?"
 
Dorin felt his gut lurch. He wanted to have hope, but right now he wasn't sure if even that was a good idea. He gripped the side of the bar, realizing he had become a little light headed. "Y-yes," he whispered hoarsely. He stood, and clipped his helmet to his belt, still holding himself upright against the bar. He turned to look at [member="Einon"], taking a deep breath.

But how would he know? And why would such a thing be kept secret from the public? The dread of what terrible secret Dorin might uncover began to wash over him. Dorin picked up his sword, and slung it over his back. He nodded at Einon once. As he stood, he let the spark of hope ignite. His shoulders squared, and he stood a little straighter. "I should very much like to visit this place. If there is even a chance that it holds the answers that I seek..."

He let the thought trail off. For a brief moment, the weight had been lifted. Dorin could breathe again. Perhaps the world hadn't quite ended. But...what mark could the founder possibly have left that someone like Einon would know about? Would Dorin even know it when he saw it? Dorin pushed such thoughts form his mind. This was his only lead. He had to have hope. "Lead on, my friend." The word rang through Dorin's head even as he said it. Friend. That was a word he'd not used in a long time. And yet...even though Dorin had only known Einon for a week...and frankly knew little more than that he was a staunch defender of his people and planet...Einon was the closest thing to a friend Dorin had.
 

Doyle

Guest
Perhaps [member="Dorin Arkx"] was more defeated than he had thought. The voice that came out of him was far too raw than what he was used to hearing. Were there tears under that blindfold of his? Einon could only guess that they were filled with sorrow.

He let his hand slip off Dorin's shoulder as the man got up. It took just a moment, but he seemed to get a handle on himself. Perhaps there was even some hope there.

The words that Dorin expressed gave him the answer. Hopefully the sacred place that Einon planned on taking him wouldn't become another dead end.

After being instructed to lead, he gave Dorin a nod and walked out in front, keeping his voice low. "Best that we keep quiet and not attract attention. The last thing that I need is to give the Queen reason to skin my hide." Not that she would, but he didn't really want to have to endure a lecture. He's observed enough of them to know this.

Einon led Dorin out of the city and across the valley, mpving towards the Eldritch Mountain range. It wasn't until he was extra certain that they were alone that he began to speak. "Where I am taking you, only a few others know of it. And I am entrusting that you will not divulge this information. It is paramount. Understand?" Hopefully he wasn't making a mistake.
 
Dorin followed [member="Einon"] without comment. Following instruction had always been a strong suit of his. He pulled his helmet on as they walked. Dorin was struck at the level of devastation the city had endured during the battle. And yet it warmed his heart to see the local populace coming together to rebuild. Commenor really was a much nicer planet than he'd first thought. Perhaps...if he lived long enough for retirement to be a valid consideration, he really would live out the rest of his days on Commenor.

As they walked out into the fields, Dorin looked around, commenting, "I was born in a valley not unlike this one... The plants used to create such a...sharp smell. Mother couldn't get enough of them. Built a garden out behind the house..." Dorin frowned under his helmet. This wasn't like him to become nostalgic. Perhaps a side effect of losing the only home he'd ever known amidst his nomadic lifestyle. He was brought back to reality when he realized Einon was speaking to him. "I understand. Believe me, I am better than most at keeping secrets."

He paused to survey the mountains before them. "Though I must admit, I'm curious to see what you're bringing me all this way for. I would have expected the university to be home to records from several Millennia ago. Unless...This is not some form of...doom's day bunker, is it?"
 

Doyle

Guest
Einon listened as [member="Dorin Arkx"] spoke of the home of his youth. Just what the hunter was going through, he couldn't fully comprehend. Commenor had always been his home. He was born here and more than likely he'd die here too. He hardly ever left the planet. There was more need for him here than elsewhere.

A smirk crossed his face as Dorin mentioned a doomsday bunker. "Oh no, we have plenty of those beneath the city. Many of our population hid there during the initial siege. I know because I was there with them for a time." That is until the Queen's surrender had brought him out. Was he mad at her for it? Partly. Surely her reasons for doing so were good ones. Reasons like Munto City getting destroyed.

It wasn't long before they were at the foot of one of the mountains where a rocky outcropping lay. Big stones to climb over hid any footprints that could have been made in the dirt. Einon approached the rockface and lifted a rocky cover that hid a panel. He placed his hand on the touchpad and waited. A grinding of stone was heard next as a door opened revealing a long dark tunnel. "This way. It's a bit of a maze, so try not to get lost." After each few feet they walked in the tunnel, a light would turn on to guide their way. The previous light would turn itself off, leaving the two men surrounded by darkness, with just one bit of light to guide them. Different passages dotted the tunnel, but Einon knew exactly where to go. He knew this place like the back of his hand. "This is the home of the Elders. The three brothers ruled here for centuries. It's a sacred place, a sanctuary if you will. And there are many items hidden here for safekeeping. Even the Queen has used it for that purpose. She was meant to stay here, after the Elders had died, and to guide the next elected President from here. But stubborn as she is, she decided to change that tradition."
 
Dorin fell silent as he was led into the tunnels. He seemed...solemn. Though not for any loss or painful memory, it instead seemed to be a reverence for the place they now stood. He followed behind [member="Einon"] quietly, listening intently to what he had to say about this place.

Dorin frowned suddenly under his helmet. "The...last bastion of Commenor, if you will... Makes a man wonder if it was supposed to be a place, not a person. Though, from what I have seen and read, I remain doubtful."

Dorin reached up and unfastened his helmet, reattaching it to his belt. Instead of a blindfold, he now wore a black veil, leaving all but his mouth and chin covered. He considered his options as they drew closer to the final hope for his quest. What was he even looking for? He drew a deep breath, and signed quietly. "In truth, I have no idea what exactly I am looking for. Though I suppose my options are somewhat limited to relics of the past. You would not happen to know where the oldest among them are stored? Something from...three thousand six hundred thirty years prior to the Battle of Yavin? Give or take a decade or two?"
 

Doyle

Guest
"Well that's certainly specific...There are a lot of things hidden here. Just so long as you know where to look."

Einon led [member="Dorin Arkx"] on through the tunnels. He paused at one fork in the path, almost as though he was hesitant to go a certain way. Maybe he was. It was outside of his usual route, but his instincts told him to change direction. At times he wondered if it was the Elders guiding him. Even after their deaths, he still felt them around here everytime he came into their space. At times he could almost hear their voices finishing eachother's sentences after every third word. The three brothers were unique in so many ways.

Making his decision, Einon turned to his right. "I'm not sure what you'll find. Three was a favourite number for them. If you find that number in any form of symbolism, take a closer look.
Sometimes the best hiding place is in plain sight."


He came upon a sealed door and placed his hand on a touch panel. Within seconds it opened, revealing a throne room of sorts. It wasn't one that belonged to the Elders, however. "This is one of the older sections of this place. It was rarely used. Don't mind the figure in the throne. It's just empty armour.
I don't know if that's just to scare people off or what. Looks kind of creepy if you ask me."
He gestured for Dorin to have a look around.
 
[youtube]https://youtu.be/rMOSTOSyNz8[/youtube]​

Dorin opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead, he immediately walked up to the suit of armor, and began inspecting it, carefully and with a certain level of awe. This was Dorin in his element, surrounded by a room full of ancient artifacts. He glanced back at [Member="Einon"], and said, "I'd say it is fulfilling its intended purpose. Not sure I would go as far as to say it is burial armor, but it is certainly a tribute to someone." Dorin took a step back, letting his mind go to work. Einon probably knew most of what he was describing already, but he was saying it aloud because it helped him think. "The...Last Bastion was not a Commenori native, so I'm certain this is not a tribute to him. It's too...regal. This was a native, and someone of royal blood. Though....I doubt this is a tomb?"

Dorin glanced at Einon, brow raised behind his veil, as if asking for confirmation. Regardless, he continued on. "It looks more like a trophy hall, built by an old king to celebrate his many deeds... And, if he followed tradition..." Dorin glanced around the room, before turning to walk over to a darker corner far from the entrance. "Items earned through coin or conquest are usually the most prominent display, gifts are usually in the background, and part of a tribute to..." Dorin felt the words catch in his mouth. "...to the people that gave them."

Dorin stood before an alcove. A statue stood sentinel over the display, clad in what seemed to be Mandalorian armor, though it blended so many styles, Dorin could not be sure of its exact origins. But that was not what gave him pause. The statue's hands rested before him, palms upturned and holding a small box, glass cover and silk lining within. Dorin stared at the sigil upon the statue's helmet. It was small, barely noticeable against the detailing of the hood. But there, perched between the statue's brows, was a sigil. His Sigil. Dorin looked down at the box, slowly, reverently opening the lid, and withdrawing the most ornate Lightsaber hilt he had ever laid eyes on. Dorin stared at the lightsaber, soaking in every detail of the hilt as he slowly turned to face Einon.

"I...I don't believe it. He's...real. The Last Bastion of Commenor..." Dorin looked up at Einon, the awe starting to overwhelm him. A single tear slid down his cheek, but not of sadness. Dorin had never been happier in his life. "I've searched...for years. Decades. And...at last I've found something." Dorin turned his gaze back to the blade. He began to read, albeit slowly as he was having to translate the runes on the blade. "The Blade of...Loss? No, Sorrow. Blade of Sorrow. A mark of a promise...unkept. That's..." Dorin brushed his hand across the hilt, as if trying to dust it off, but he paused, hand resting on the center point of the hilt. His fingers wrapped around it and he turned to Einon slowly. He spoke, barely above a whisper. "There's...there's a memory here. I can...feel it..." Dorin slowly extended the lightsaber towards Einon, as if offering it to him. "I can guide your mind to it. Shall we witness this together?"
 

Doyle

Guest
"Each ruler had their way of doing things. The Elders never wanted the history to be forgotten by those that lived on. They felt as though history was to be preserved.
So instead of fixing up this throne room to suit them, they built their own and kept this as a sort of...museum for a time gone by."


Einon watched as [member="Dorin Arkx"] explored the room. He had only been in here a few times himself, so there was still plenty about it that even he didn't know about. But there was no need for him to know either. It wasn't a part of his job.

He followed Dorin at a respectful distance towards the statue and smirked a little as it seemed he had found what he was looking for. "...The Three Brothers have done it again..." was muttered under his breath as he looked towards the ceiling. Oh yes, he felt them watching, even in death they still served.

A brow was raised as Dorin asked him to bear witness to a memory. That was highly unusual. No doubt it was some kind of a Force magic thing. Einon was curious however. Perhaps the Elders wanted him to see. History shouldn't be forgotten and turning away from it would go against what the Elders had done here.

Einon approached, though he didn't reach out for the lightsaber just yet. "How?"
 
Dorin wasn't surprised that [member="Einon"] was hesitant to join. Such a thing was strange to people like him. People without this...curse. "The memory is implanted in the crystal of the lightsaber. I can call upon The Force to allow me to re-live it. I can, with your permission of course, project the image to the minds of others. It may not be...as clear to you, but you will be able to witness the events contained within as well."

Dorin turned his gaze to the lightsaber again, eyes narrowing as he inspected it closer. "There...does seem to be a problem, however. Minor, I can assure you, but...I've never seen something...quite like this before." He looked back to Einon. "The Crystal. Something's wrong with it. It's not...well. I do not know if I am able to describe it in a satisfactory way to one such as yourself, but...The crystal is sick. Even now, I feel somewhat unwell looking at it."

Dorin withdrew the lightsaber as he began to realize this. "It will not affect you, given you will just be seeing what I project, but there is a chance this could affect me in ways I cannot predict. Though I would speculate that they will leave my sanity intact."

Dorin fell silent, studying the blade for a moment, then looked back to Einon. "For the sake of my quest, I must do this. I understand if you would choose not to bear witness to this memory."
 

Doyle

Guest
Einon blinked in surprise. "A crystal can get....sick?" Maybe it was alove. Commenor was attacked by shards once, shards that lived in suits of armour. He turned his head to the armour sitting on the throne. Was that such a thing at one time? The history here was ancient and he hadn't explored it. It was never his job. His job was to protect it.

Turning to [member="Dorin Arkx"] he nodded. "Alright. Give it a try.If it gets too much for either of us, what do I do?" The fact that Dorin wasn't quite sure of what would happen with this...sick crystal that made him feel ill unnerved Einon a little. He didn't even pretend to understand the Force mumbo jumbo. That wasn't his job either.

Regardless, he had to trust the Elders and trust in Dorin too. There was a purpose for this, even though he couldn't quite see it right now.
 
Dorin nodded once in response to Einon's first query. "All lightsaber crystals are attuned to the Force. Some even exhibit some level of...emotion, I guess. Something...damaged this one."

Dorin watched quietly as Einon considered the options, then agreed to join in. Dorin looked around the room, and moved to the middle of it, kneeling down to set the lightsaber on the floor, and to remove his satchel from around his shoulder. "The Memory will consume my senses, a sort of...meditation. I will not be able to break the connection until the memory is over." He reached down, and undid the straps on his left thigh, and held up a battered First Order pistol, turning it this way and that as he inspected it. It wasn't anything special, but he quite enjoyed the utility of the sidearm when he had picked it up during the Battle for Commenor, so he had kept it. "You will only be witnessing the memory as I project it, or relay it. You'll still be in full control of your senses. If you need to break the connection, Pick something. Anything. Focus on it."

Dorin looked up, fingers on his right hand curling as he tried to think. "A person, a place, it doesn't matter, just as long as you pick something, and think about it hard enough that your mind ignores my projection. That will send you back to reality. If something goes wrong..." Dorin slid the pistol across the ground to him, silently sure that [member="Einon"] would understand the implication. "When you are ready, I will begin."
 

Doyle

Guest
Einon followed [member="Dorin Arkx"] to the middle of the room and sat down across from him. He listened quietly, as was his habit brought on by years in security.

He nodded as the instructions were given. Focus on something. Well, that was easy. Whether or not it'd be easy as he watched the memory, he didn't know. There was only one way to find out.

Dorin gave him the answer to his question by sliding the pistol over to him. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but one never knew. He took hold of the pistol and placed it to his right.

"I'm ready. So....do we hold hands or something?" Einon let in a humorous moment, just to lighten things up before they experience whatever it was that made that crystal....sick.
 
[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...

harrower_class_dreadnought_by_clark31470-d8xw5s7.jpg
[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...
 

Doyle

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No holding of hands. Well that was good. That was the last thing that he needed others to walk into; him holding the hands of [member="Dorin Arkx"] . He would only hold the hands of his girlfriend, but she was lost in Munto City. His heart died there with her. Now work would forever occupy his time.

Breathe and relax.

Einon closed his eyes, letting in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. How does one relax their mind? Try to think of nothing? But that was impossible. His mind was always working. Maybe if he thought of clouds or something. But no, he couldn't even do that. It could keep him stuck in reality and betray the whole purpose.

Just as he was about to give up, a scene began to play out in his mind. A space battle. It drew him in. Hearing of planets being sieged caused him to frown. He knew what that was like.

Commenor had changed sides often throughout it's history. Even in it's recent history. And here he was witnessing another in years gone past. Lessons could be learned here, but he wasn't the one to pick them out. He wasn't a ruler or a Minister. He just headed security.

And then it was over. Einon opened his eyes as soon as the images stopped, seeing Dorin on his hands and knees. "Are you alright?" Just how scenes like that caused the crystal to be sick, he didn't know. It didn't explain much about the connection between the lightsaber and the last bastion of Commenor.

But maybe there was more to see later on.
 

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