Ascendancy: Assault on Bastion

[Natalie LaForte]

So she stood beside him. In patience. And watched as the ship entered hyperspace and in an instant were beside the planet. Modern technology truly was wondrous. She watched as the vast array of ships descended upon the planet, some being scorched by the hail of fire, others damaged to the point of where escape pods were being launched, or what ones they had left.

She watched as her Lord walked to the ramp and jumped. She certainly had no death-wish on her head yet, and decided against nearly-definite suicide. So she waited. For a moment.

You only live once, a weird philosophy that she had since desired to live-by, for the meantime. Her sister had already been present on the planet, not as apart of this particular mission but by request of Serenity for assistance should it be necessary. She looked at the holo-map in reference to the arranged meeting point, the ship edging ever so closely further to it. The fire slowly stopped as they eventually reached the surface, but being a risk-taker, she too, jumped out of the ramp, although be-it a few kilometers away from the destination that her Master had previously made his death-drop.

Her sister's hair was distinguishable from the rest, her bright LED lights also made her quite noticeable, especially in comparison to the grey and dark uniforms being wielded by those around her, strangely, she didn't even have her usual weapon and bore a Riot Gun, a curious choice.

"Sis, we got a fort to destroy. You in?"

"Nat, you know I really don't like you doing this. But I suppose so, as long as I'm getting my credits worth."

They didn't formally gather any forces to assist them, rather the waning hordes clashed with whatever was close to them, enemy troops, animals or encampments.

The two rushed under the cover of the masses approached a fort where turrets were decimating the unsupported troops. She didn't care, they continued to move, those around them being struck down if they weren't clever enough to see the flashes of light coming towards their positions. Eventually, they reached the walls, where a make-shift tunnel had been breached and a repetitive alarm was played throughout as m,andalorians scrambled to their positions.

"Medical first, then we hit the command post"

She didn't get much time to speak as another blaster bolt shot past them. She eventually got her chain-gun our and shot volleys-upon-volleys at the positions, striking down foe, and friend in some cases. She moved along, allowing the cover of the emotionless unit to be her human shield, dragging her sister along with her. She unleashed her light saber, a blue sparkle shimmered as it came out, she began to cut in at the steel and metallic surface of the door leading into the interior, her sister shooting when it was appropriate at anybody who dared get close to them.

"Hurry up already, I'm not here to kill these sorry souls."

[member="Maleagant"] I [member="Victor Mors"] I [member="Etheriud Yvvera"] I [member="Ignus"] I [member="Darth Abyss"] I [member="Abraxas"] I [member="Abraxas"] I [member="Krest"] I [member="Waide"] I [member="Otho Rendoro"] I [member="Darth Carnifex"] I @Emissary

 

[Korogum]

This was it, after months of wandering and essentially sellswording off to third parties, Korogum would finally taste true war in its full form. In the time that the two of them, he and his partner Etheriud, had left Alzoc III up until now, part of him could not help but wonder what real battle would hold for them. On one hand, he felt pangs of nervousness, having only his light amounts of basic training, a rudimentary understanding of the force, and his Saber Spear, that he still had not fully worked out the proper usage of, to bring into this fight. On the other hand, a sensation not unlike excitement continuously spattered his mind. For what reason would he want to enter a full blown battle? Thrillseeking? Glory? He could not tell.

"It's time."

Korogum centered his thoughts once again as he heard his partner speak. Standing up from his seated position on his room's bed, he walked to the threshold of the doorway into the main area of their hotel room, stopping shortly to grip the shaft of his saber spear in his hand, feeling a sense of clarity and safety with the weapon in hand before he brought it under his cloak, hooking it to a holster on the back of his padded under-armor.

With the two of them in the elevator headed down to the ground floor, Korogum glanced at his partner, realizing they did not yet have a solid plan set.

"Etheriud, I believe our goal should be the cities main Communications Hub. This would be the most effective use of what forces we have, assuming the rest of our allies have already begun their assault on much bigger, more important objectives, such as the Ground to Space Defenses, as well as the Governmental Centers. Also it is no doubt that our comrades have jammed any and all communications coming from this world, so if we were to take the Communications Hub, we can free up power usage for them, as well as possibly gain some useful intelligence on what the Mandalorians have been up to on this world."

As the two of them reached the lobby, they headed outside to gain their bearings. They had set up in the small hotel in the cities sub-levels so as to avoid any unintentional friendly fire from orbit, as well as any debris from the battle above coming down into the world's atmosphere. From their position, the Communications Hub would only be a few miles away, mere minutes by speeder.

 

[Nichtmehr]

Emissary moved into the bunker behind the other operative [member="Otho Rendoro"], his needler tightly gripped in his hands, and his glowing eyes and his additional sensors scanning the corridor in front of them. There were several signs of life that they picked up on, not surprising considering that bunkers normally were high security facilities for a reason. His monoton electronic voice droned out of his vocalizer, the volume turned down to its minimum.

"Stay alert. My sensors suggest that enemies are inbound."

The droid walked forward, every circuit inside of him on high alert, and for a reason. Close by he could hear as commands were shouted, and suddenly two smoke grenades were thrown before their feets, filling the room with thick, black smoke that was meant to obscure their vision. A second later a the sound of a blaster being fired could be heard, and Emissary's combat protocols jumped to live. Pushing his body behind the nearest cover, a small gap where a secured, locked door was waiting behind, as the red bolt broke through the smoke, followed by a handful more.

When the first series of shoots had passed by them, the droid stepped out again, using the additional sensors for chemical air composition, sonic waves and heat to target their adversaries and locked on three of them. With mechanical precession the arms of the droid moved, firing a handful of needles at each of his targets.

Following the near silent sound of them flying through the air, he could hear three pained grunts, as all his targets dropped to the ground, one dead and two injured, before the droid retreated to his cover again.

[member="Krest"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss fell down from the sky, his robe dancing in the wind as his feet came closer and closer to the ground, while his eyes remained closed to focus on the control he exercised on the force. Before his bones could be shattered by the impact, power surged through the sith lord, and just a handful seconds before his legs would be crushed under his own weight and momentum his fall began to slow down and then stop completely. The sith lord descended the last few centimetres, softly, with only the tips of his feet touching the ground at first.

As soon as he joined the battle of the ground, the warcries of his legion got louder, cheering and shouting wildly through the area now that their prophet had arrived. The legion had already begun their assault, after raining down on the edges of the capital, storming the outskirts where low budget housing and not much else was placed. They had been meet by resistance, but the evacuation of the area was already close to finished and most enemy troops had more military relevant positions to defend. Yet his legion still wouldn't get to far. Soon their march would slow down and then stop completely.

Guerilla tactics, squatting in houses to rain fire from below, utilising leftover civilian vehicles as transportation and weapon as well as improvising cover out of anything at hand only worked as a surprise for a set period of time, before the better trained anf better armed enemy soldiers would find a way to counter them. A electronic bleep in his ear informed him about an incoming transmission.

"Inner Eye to Prophet, do you copy? We are in position, and our eyes in the sky have scanned the area. The Academy Acolytes are inbound to your position."

The sith lord took cover behind a flipped over speeder, the device on his wrist showing a 3D imagine of the area below him, with several positions pre marked by his small troop of agents, operatives and sharpshooters.

"Understood. Set up choke points at the marked positions, to secure the perimeter. Clear out a LZ closer to the capitals core for allied ground forces. Prophet out."

The Inner Eye would use the push of chaos that the legion offered to set up multiple positions on the edges of the area, streets framed by houses and structures through which enemy reinforcements would have to come through to reach the landing zone. By now the legion had forced the enemy to retreat several blocks from where the initial assault began, allowing allied forces to drop in closer to the inner city. Behind Abyss a group of sith, dark jedi and witches made their way to their leader. None of them was overly gifted in the force, but as marauders and berserkers they made very effective shock troopers.

With them behind him Abyss moved forward to the choke point that would be the hardest to hold, a wide straight street that lead to the outskirts right from the core of the capital. Sharpshooters had taken position on the roof, and the slight hum of a surveillance drone could be heard as the acolytes and their master moved inside the buildings around them, setting an ambush for the soon to be coming enemy reinforcements. Right now the legion was still on the forward, but soon they would fall into a wild retreat, and then his more specialised soldiers would have the duty to keep the area secure for the sith reinforcements.

[member="Serenity Loveheart"] [member="Maleagant"] [member="Victor Mors"] [member="Etheriud Yvvera"] [member="Ignus"] [member="Abraxas"] [member="Abraxas"] [member="Krest"] [member="Waide"] [member="Otho Rendoro"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Destruction reigned supreme above the skies of Bastion.

Great wrenching wrecks of twisted metal and billowing flame listed mindlessly through the void, the corpses of hundreds of felled Mandalorians drifted in between the spires of ruined warships. So far Black Iron had only suffered minimal damage, their strike from the rear flank had brought them out of sight of the enemy's cannons for the most part. Only the vanguard had been fired upon in the ensuing battle, and of them only two ships smoldered with fresh battle wounds.

The battle in space could only come to one conclusion, the Sith's victory was inevitable.

So Carnifex rose from his throne and departed from the bridge after leaving Croscal in command of the fleet. By now most, if not all, of the Ruination's dropships had been deployed to the planet's surface to bring a swift end to the conflict. All of his soldiers had been ordered not to cause widespread destruction or unnecessarily damage any structures if they could avoid it. The Sith wanted this planet for their base of operations, and they'd rather not have it be some shelled-out wasteland by the time they were done bringing it to heel.

By the time Carnifex entered the hangar bay the only ship left idle was his command shuttle. [member="Abraxas"] and the others had long since left to carry out his orders. He would join them, in time, but he had to secure his own holdings down on the planet from any possible Mandalorian occupation before he fully joined the fray. A pair of Crownguard guarded the entrance to his shuttle, but at his approached the bowed and followed him in shortly before the boarding ramp retracted back up into the hull. The shuttle rotated gracefully in the empty hanger and disembarked the warship with a tremendous thunder-clap as its engines roared to life to propel it out into the void.

His target destination? His secret estate in the mountains near the northern polar caps.

 

[Otho Rendoro]

The Ithorian charged forward, his long legs propelling him past where the droid had returned to cover. Rage fueled each step, contorting his mouths into crass grimaces, taut along the sides of his face. His eyes watered with the acrid smoke as Otho drew the Sith sword from its sheath at his hip, his left hand at the top of the blade as the Iridonian had taught him. His experience with blades had previously been limited – Otho much preferred his fists for dealing with the scrum he had dealt with in the past, but this was not Taris and this was not Malachor. This was battle and that meant the keen edge of the sword would do well enough – until the master deigned to reveal the secrets of forging a true weapon of his own.

Three men had caught needles from the [member="Emissary"]; one was motionless, his eyes a blank stare as blood oozed from a needle to the eye. One was behind him, prone on her back with several needles embedded in her middle bits. Her eyes widened in panic as she saw the blade and Otho’s perceptions, wrenched open by his time with the master, could feel as it rippled off her like a discordant wave. The Ithorian aimed a swift stomp at her chest as he passed, a bubble of exertion escaping his mouth as her knees approached her stomach reflexively.

The target before him did not flee – Mandalorians were flaming fools with honor where their brains should have been. Needles punctuated the muscle of his arms and legs but the droid had slowed him down. He dropped his blaster rifle but the Mandalorian was out of time. Otho raised the sword high above his head, his foot trapping the human who stumbled back, equilibrium disrupted. Otho turned his body as his sword traced a crimson line across the man’s body, narrowly avoiding much of the blood but some spattered his face and he could taste the iron in his mouth.

It was Otho’s first kill for the Sith. How many more weaklings would have to die at his will?

The woman struggled weakly but he pushed the sharp blade through the gap at the top of her armor down into the important blood vessels below the skin. The flow of oxygen to her brain was gone and she fell lugubriously, her weight taking the sword with it before Otho pulled it free. He stooped, doubling over to wipe the blade, his movements urgent, almost frantic.

Otho waved the droid forward but did not wait for it, jogging down the corridor into the next room, its occupants having met their demise. There were several terminals arrayed here, dull-gray in the bunker’s lockdown levels of low-light. The Ithorian sheathed his sword briskly and fumbled at the square compartment towards the front of his belt, producing a chip and shoving it brusquely into the machine.

The master’s voice buzzed urgently in his ear after an electronic chime. They needed a blackout and soon!

“Am I your slicer or your racehorse, Lord [member="Krest"]? You will have your cannon shortly.”

The program was not his. Krest had not permitted him much time for reflection or study since Malachor, preferring to instruct the Ithorian on combat and the visceral nature of the esoteric arts that they were to practice. Otho’s brows furled in consternation as the slicer chip from Sith Intelligence churned along, scripts running to expose weaknesses or exploit glitches. The permissions on the terminal were low but there was a file found that controlled automatic shutdown. He changed several values – energy density, wire temperature, magnetic readings from the grid and added a line that would reboot the network in emergency mode with global administrator rights given to UID “orend.” The code compiled but error messages assaulted his eyes. Maybe he punched too high above his weight. He changed it to colonel-level. Activity on the local electrical grid went wild, recognition programs identifying a catastrophe when they saw it. An automatic shutdown was put in place and power was cut to grids 88934 through 92041.

This included the ion cannon complex and the lights and terminals around Otho went dark. He touched the bead at his ear.

“Nightfall.”

 

[Figure In White]

The enemy cruiser was soon as space derelict more than it was a cruiser. While his battle group was busy pushing against the remnants of the defensive force, he'd taken to doing an inspection of the vessels they'd faced. Most of them, he noted were old. A few One Sith era vessels mixed in with some slightly more recent Mandalorian clan ships, but outdated in terms of technical advancements. Still powerful warships in their own right, and they could hold their own against most forces, but they hadn't been cut out for facing a ship the magnitude of the one Kaine had brought to the battle, let alone additional forces in the form of the Ignus Industries vessels. This was not a forward station.

"Ground forces are deployed."

They'd entered the ground fray. To be frank they'd already been in it since Krest and Abyss both had their people on the ground already. There would be more opposition there because the warships weren't privy to ground combat. Usually. The Reformation-class was designed with multiple combat roles in mind, not just for the domination of space. After all, it had been meant to be more of a command role vessel than a simple cruiser.

"We should be clear enough to push in and establish orbit, Captain. Have the other ships swing to our starboard side and provide cover away from the planet."

"Yes, sir."

The ship began a lazy turn in towards the planet, pushing through the battlefield, its guns lancing out at what ever unfortunate foe got close enough to it. Most of the enemy that was left in their immediate vicinity were corvettes and some lighter frigates. Kaine's ship had the last cruiser and some other vessels to itself. The dreadnought moved in on the planet, establishing itself within orbit. It was possible they could be seen on the ground. There weren't a particularly large number of clouds directly beneath their orbit. Not that it mattered. Any ground based weaponry capable of hitting them would be dealt with by the ground forces.

"Deploy a SNAP. Coordinate ground strikes with it and the needs of our troops on the ground."

"Yes, sir. I've also deployed a maintenance team to starboard shield projecter Five-A. It's sustained some damage and lost power. Should be operational again soon."

"No system is perfect. What's the status on that communication intercept?"

"No update yet."

They were still working on it then. Must have been a good encryption. He shrugged and turned back to the map, focusing it in further on the planet below. Things were progressing well. Bastion would make a suitable capital once they rooted out the maggots that resided there.

| [member="Antherion"] | [member="Damien Daemon"] | [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Darth Eversor"] | [member="Darth Malleus"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Eldaah Aderyn"] | [member="Etheriud Yvvera"] | [member="Kith Verloren"] | [member="Korogum"] | [member="Odion Kryze"] | [member="Otho Rendoro"] | [member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Victor Mors"] | [member="Waide"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] |​

 

[Blackthorne]

Low on the horizon a seamless speck arrived amidst the tumult of this period of planetary ...adjustment. Having snuck in through the hive of large ships, following a circuitous path towards the capital, the Sekairo Class Stealth Transport made a sweeping dive into air traffic. It carried two occupants, neither of which had stepped foot on Bastion in several years. One of them remembered with perfect clarity her last visit: the beginning of the end of the Primeval.

The Sha'Matri sat in deep silence, pale saffron gaze closed to the world beyond. In her mind she recalled the day she came here to watch the Host Lord Anja Aj'Rou die in her arms. Despite the significance of that day, there was little left of the Primeval here now. Its people had scattered far and wide after her death, dispersed by civil war and the threat of untethered Warlords vying for dominance. Wayland had come under her command during those days at the death of the old Warlord Balac Kotyc'ade.

Some time later, when the fires of war had begun to die and the influence of the Primeval waned, another power had come. Mandalorians, Crusaders - they took upon Wayland with great fervor, stirring the awareness of the hidden Skarsovi witches. Infringed upon their sacred lands they had, but war did not come. Peace to be had, Loxa determined, with these people possessed of familiar powers. Isley Verd and the young Oron had come to Temple Yvarenthi and spoke plainly with the Sha'Matri; a pact of non-aggression made between the witches and the warriors.

This peace that lasted for years and saw no harm nor foul brought upon Wayland during its time. The Mandalorians had since withdrawn, for the most part, leaving the planet to the Skarsovi in order to wage war against the Republic and then later the One Sith. Loxa's mind wandered to the people that now inhabited Bastion. Could they yet be remnants of the people with which she had made this pact all those years ago? The whispers of the Gods revealed nothing but some hint of doubt could not be ignored.

At the low voice of her companion, presently piloting their ship, Loxa's golden eyes slivered open to peer out through the forward panes of the ship. They had arrived at the capital and the old Primeval temple.

​

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]​

 

[Darth Eversor]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6BbvCC0VI0​

​

The growth of the Sith was paramount, like a beautiful flower that was already beginning to blossom. ​

​

The Mandalorians were akin to weeds, unruly and an eyesore. They needed to be exterminated and cut back down to size, or eradicated entirely. And on this day, there was no need for senseless destruction. There was only the requirement and privilege to bathe in blood, just as [member="Darth Carnifex"] requested. Abraxas took this in both a figurative and literal sense and through this bloodshed would Bastion become clean of all defilement and pestilence. Descending from the skies and onto the battlefield, the False Butcher felt the shock of the rather harsh landing. A cacophony of blaster fire and other nuances of war rumbled the ground almost as if an earthquake were taking place.​

​

It was time.​

​

The latch of the transport whirred to life and opened rather tediously, like the maw of some beast about to show its fearsome fangs. A volley of bolts slammed against the sides of the ship as the troops stormed out and began their attempts at securing the LZ. The last figure to emerge from the transport was Abraxas himself, casually walking to the hail of smoke and combat. Beset by the enemy as hastily as any Mandalorian would chance upon a Sith, Abraxas met their spite with utter reflection and deflection.​

​

Their bolts being ccast back upon them, betrayed by their own attempts at hoping for a swift victory. A crimson blade began to rip and tear through them, limbs becoming scorched scenery to further compliment the blood-soaked concrete and dust blanketing the streets. Nostalgia and fond memories of razing cities and its denizens came flooding in, and the Sith found himself in an utter bliss. Each plunge of his lightsaber married to the swift iron fist of dominance that he displayed truly tugged his heartstrings. ​

​

War was beautiful, as was death.​

​

Upon making a brief respite through carnage, Abraxas gave the command for his Lord's forces to advance and secure the surrounding areas. ​

​

There was much to reminisce over, and more memories to forge through breaking bones.​

​

War was home.​

​

[member="Loxa Visl"] | [member="Ignus"] | [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Otho Rendoro"] | [member="Emissary"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Korogum"] | [member="Serenity Loveheart"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Tirdarius"]​

 

[Darth Athora]

Victor's body count was rising as each passing moment flew by. Terror ripped through the battle as his squadron fought with such tenacity and fearlessness that their enemies had no chance of performing a regroup maneuver. That was the Manta strategy: Force their enemy's squadrons to split up and pick them apart one by one until there were none left. Victor devised this himself. He loved the sight of his enemies squirming about, desperate for mercy. To see them drained of their strength, gave him his.

Victor noticed several ships descending upon the planet. His personality would not let him stay in the space battle. He needed to smell the corpses of his enemies to truly be in ecstasy. He veered hard to his left to line up with [member="Ignus"]'s ship, defending the ship from any attackers who dare try to become the hero of the day. Victor did not like heroes, white knights, or anything of the sort. He saw them as mere mortals pretending to be fairy tales. As the dreadnought came within sight of the planet's surface, Victor's squadron broke off from it then flew down to the surface and found itself a clearing. Once on the ground, Victor's starfighter powered down and the the capsule that was the cockpit opened up. He rolled out of the ship and scanned the horizon. His squadmates were behind him, readying their weapons. Victor pulled his lightsaber from beneath his robes, gripping it's immaculate handle firmly, and walked off in search of prey.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Loxa Visl"]

Years ago the drums of the Host sounded across the reaches of the Outer Rim.

One man, standing close to the Lord of the Host, watched impassively as the fires burned across the Rim. Long ago... he would have been appalled, perhaps would have tried to stop them one way or another. But during those years he was the whisper in her ear, secrets flowing away from him in exchange for... well, that was the eternal question, was it not? When the Host Lord died, Khaleel shed no tears - he had been the heretic at court, protected by his connection to her and her priest, but that disbelief in their constant faith sheltered him from any sadness.

"I should not be surprised the very day we decide to travel to Bastion the Sith decide to assault it." Khal mumbled out, while steering the ship away from the traffic and towards the old Primeval temple.

It was strangely intact still.

Cracked leather of his old duster brushed against unshaven edge, cologne mixed with cigars mixed with dried whiskey, they touched with the cold air and caused him some measure of discomfort.

You didn't have to come... yes, I did.

Before landing at the hangar bay in the depths of the temple, Khal circled around it a number of times. The passive scanners of the shuttle couldn't make out anything with the thickness of the duracrete, but the damage seemed to be localized. Statues torn down, murals desecrated and in its place several emblems from an imperial nature plastered over it.

"They wasted no time, it seems." Malvern remarked, before guiding the ship towards the hangars through the slightly obscured entrance build into the side of the temple.

 

[Darth Ferus]

"We've severed connection to the rest of the facility sir. Otho's blackout wont affect us here." One of the agents dressed in the enemy soldier uniforms stepped over to Krest, bowing his head. The dead bodies of the local army had been moved to one corner of the room, the doors sealed, and several of the terminals being worked on. [member="Otho Rendoro"] reported in then, and it wasn't a moment too soon on behalf of the agents.

"With the blackout, you and [member="Emissary"] can continue with your next objective. Plant bombs in the living quarters and high population, and lock out all other terminals as you go around. Once you're done with that, enjoy the fireworks."

"Sir, cannons are ready to fire."

"Patch me into [member="Ignus"] 's com." Krest moved over to the monitor displaying the sky above. Targets that were the Sith were in red, the local defenses were in blue. War was going good so far, but no reason to turn the tide to a complete landslide.

"Connected."

"Lord Ignus, the ion cannon is mine. Patch me through your largest threats."

 

[Blackthorne]

"I should not be surprised the very day we decide to travel to Bastion the Sith decide to assault it."

A curious glance drifted his way before turning back out towards the cityscape and the growing pyramid temple. Emblems of a Mandalorian Empire billowed in the winds now where once the Primeval had staked their claim. The defacement of several key statues, including one of the Host Lord, elicited a brief bubbling of offense within the witch Elder. The Gods had not shared with her any vision or whispers of this strange turn of events - leaving Loxa to wonder if their power had been keenly snuffed out here.

They were not the Gods of the warriors settled here now.

"They wasted no time, it seems."

<<This attack works in our favor,>> she replied quietly, lilting Pacean tongue just barely audible over the thrum of the engines, <<the main forces are gone from the temple grounds.>>

As the ship touched down inside a mostly empty hangar bay, Loxa slowly worked the straps from her shoulders with hands unfamiliar with their function. Once free she stood and calmly made way for the entrance ramp, stepping out into the gust of hangar turbines.

"Get back into your ship, you don't have clearance to land here-" an armored guard was approaching with a blaster raised and aimed for a lethal shot, "this facility is on lock-down."

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Loxa Visl"]

That was something they could agree on at the least.

It would have been practically impossible to get on Bastion... and more specifically this temple without some major diversions. Like a planetary-wide incursion by Sith for instance. In truth, it couldn't have worked out better if Khal had planned this himself. Didn't mean that he wasn't uneasy about their presence regardless.

"Agreed." Khal responded, before disengaging the controls and starting to unstrap himself. After a moment of bemusement deft fingers worked out Loxa's straps as well.

No words spoken to accentuate the gestures.

There was little need to put attention to it in his opinion. After making sure that every system was in lockdown - so nobody could walk in behind them and fly the gunship away from under their noses, Khal followed Loxa out. Straight into the barrel of a blaster aimed squarely at them.

Khal grunted, before making a twitch with his left hand.

In response the blaster was ripped out of the Mandalorian's hand. One more twitch later and the warrior was knocked to the side and launched into the wall, where he crumbled into a heap.

"Where to?" Like nothing had happened.

 

[Blackthorne]

<<Peace->>

She'd intended to speak plainly to the guard but the unceremonious disarming and bodily tossing had cut her off. She blinked after his figure as it flew through the air and impacted the wall, resting upon it where it fell. Silence followed Khal's inquiry as she internalized her memories of the temple.

They were very few and did not include the hangar. The witch's lips gave a visible twitch as she cast her gaze slowly across the hangar bay.

<<I have no memory of this place,>> a simple admittance, <<we must find the throne room. It will be there.>>

Gently tugging her hood forward in the relentless turbine winds, Loxa stepped down the remainder of the ramp and began making her way deeper into the hangar bay, towards the doorways opposite of the way they had come. She made it to a lift and stopped to peer at a building layout map on the wall by the access panel. The problem remained that Loxa had grown up a slave and spent the bulk of her life after freedom as a religious Priestess leading the masses to war. She'd never learned to read and her basic was markedly far more broken than before after years of neglect.

She could look at the diagram, however, and the various floor layouts.

<<The one behind the main gates...>>

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Loxa Visl"]

The difference between growing up a slave and a street rat were keen and distinct.

But one similarity was the lack of education you received. In Khal's situation, he had been lucky enough to be pulled into the Jedi Order years and years ago, his Masters had helped him... enough that he was quite educated now. More so than he ever would have been running around the streets of Nar Shaddaa anyway. He walked up next to her and peered at the map, the words were in Mando'a with some additions in Basic for clarification.

The former wasn't helpful, the latter was cryptic and seemed to only misdirect.

Her words gave him some measure of direction though, enough that after a moment of study Khal could distinguish a path to where they needed to go.

"Here." The man stated finally, his finger brushing past where they were now, through the hallway and further inwards. The temple was big and it seemed that since the fall of the Primeval and the rise of the Crusaders... there had been some renovations. Levels added, levels removed, hallways shifted, but this map was up to date which gave them options.

In the distance Khal could hear the rumble of boots to the ground.

They did not come closer and instead seemed to level off the longer they went off - reinforcements for the planetary defense? This seemed likely.

After another moment of studying the map, trying to commit it to memory, Khal gestured for Loxa to follow. This was her mission. He was here for her, but at the moment they needed to be fast. Unless they wanted to get face-to-face with lost Mandalorians who started to bark questions and such. Exiting the hangars they went for the first corridor.

 

[Blackthorne]

Lucky the man was here to assist, elsewise she would have had to resort to more arcane methods of finding her way around. Maps were far more cost effective where time, energy, spirit ichor reserves, and innocent lives were concerned. She followed him at a clipped pace, which was to say she moved quickly but without haste. There were very few things that Loxa could be described as and hasty wasn't one of them.

They reached the end of the first corridor, coming to a stop as it split into two main crossways; a staircase leading up and a hall leading further into the temple. Up was where they needed to go to get to the main entrance level that was once accessed by the grand stairs of the front pyramid face. Loxa had hoped for more ethereal cues as for where to go, but the nature of the temple felt entirely different.

Steel where once there had been stone. Cold where once an epic fire of faith burned.

She heard footsteps, but not many like Khal had heard before. Only a few. Three people - more guards judging by the weight of their footfalls and the tang of metal against floor.

[Intruders - intruders in the building. A man and a woman in white robes. Force users.] unheard by the pair a signal had gone out on the local comms courtesy of their friend back in the hangar. [I have their ship, but it's locked up.]

[Damn Sith.]

The three pairs of feet began to move more quickly, coming in their direction from the uppermost stairs. Loxa calmly stepped back towards the wall and waited as [member="Khaleel Malvern"] made the first move.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Loxa Visl"]

In time Khal might have regretted leaving the Mandalorian alive.

That was what mercy gave you after all. Just another opportunity to be karked over in the end, but there wasn't truly time to worry about that now. Not when their path was barred by more bodies, their footsteps approached closer and closer. Khal exchanged a look with Loxa, who had already taken a step back. They had fought together before. Now it was more instincts and reflexes that guided them in future fights.

There were no need for words.

This was the first time since they got here that Malvern reached out with his hand - the moment the first Mandalorian came into view, his finger snapped at him and from his long frame the Force erupted into a burst of kinetic energy. It lashed out through the air and caught the first one by the neck.

It caused him to fall backwards with a surprised grunt and that caused the guard right behind him to also stumble. The third one managed to avoid the same fate by sidestepping, pressing himself closely to the wall. His blaster was already raised, firing at the only target in sight. Contrary to Loxa, Khal hadn't bothered to take a step towards the wall. The first shot splashed across his duster's leather, where it clashed against magic interwoven inside the material.

Khal grunted as energy dissipated, but the sheer force of the shot caused him to stumble backwards against the wall.

 

[Figure In White]

"Sir, the MIG is reporting a cloaked vessel having descended on the planet during the fighting. They've tracked its location here."

A marker appeared on the map of the planet and he zoomed in. It appeared to be some sort of old temple. He couldn't quite make out what significance it might have, but then his knowledge of Bastion was incomplete as compared to the rest. Still, it was more than a little bit worth his trouble to go down and see what it was that was going on. Could it be these people had received the message that was sent out and come as a result? Possible. He wouldn't know until he went and found out.

"Captain you have the ship. Coordinate with the ground forces on orbital strikes."

As he was about to leave the Orrery, a call came in from [member="Krest"] and he paused.

"Krest I'm about to head down to the planet to investigate an anomaly. I will leave coordination efforts in the hands of my Captain or you can consult with the Zambrano's. Most of the combat up here is done and over with, however. The paltry defensive fleet wasn't a match."

That said, he left the Orrery and descended through the vessel to the hangar where he found several of his Vermilion Guard waiting at one of the RAL's. He boarded, and they followed him within before sealing up the hatch. He instructed the pilot on where to take him, and the landing craft lifted before darting out of the dreadnought and descending towards the planet below. This would be his first time setting foot upon Bastion, though he was more than certain it would not be his last. He watched out the viewport as they descended towards the structure that had been marked. He could see a craft sitting not far away from it, and several Mandalorians poking around. Grunts from the looks of it.

"Captain Tarz, I'll leave them to you."

"Yes, sir."

As the lander dropped in, the hatch open and the Guard jumped free, landing on the ground and immediately turning their guns upon the unsuspecting Mandalorians. Though they wore armor made of the same material, they were no match for the proficiency of his Guard and their ability to coordinate their efforts for maximum efficiency. Leos himself descended from the RAL and landed lightly upon the ground, walking past the short lived combat and heading towards the temple, following in the footsteps of both [member="Loxa Visl"] and [member="Khaleel Malvern"], though he didn't know it. The Guard would secure their ship from the Mandalorian's, and then they'd wait. He was going to find out just who'd run through the battle to come here.

"Sir?"

The voice rang in his comms, clearly that of the captain of The Lambent Shadow.

"Yes, Captain."

"The transmission sent out of the system was an alert. It was in Mandalorian, directing all Forces to be alert that a Sith enemy has appeared at Bastion."

"Thank you, Captain."

A Sith enemy and not a distress call. There was more to this situation than the simpleness that met the eye and he was certain that it was going to become unpleasant down the road. It was only a matter of time.

 

[Ignatius]

Bastion

The planet was being taken over. Krest and his little posse were taking over the cannons and using them to attack the main forces. It seemed from the coms that I had, The fleet was having some kind of interference. What was it I wonder? As of now I had no clue. It seemed like the fabled Zambranos were here as well. The God-king's military was quite impressive for a man who worked years to claim his planet. If anyone owned an entire hex like he did, you know you screwed up when on the receiving end of his military's might.

Holding what could only be the limb of a dead officer I sat on, I was eating the flesh from the bone. Feeling the tight muscles as he tensed up before his death. I always liked it that way. Nice and chewy. Allowed my jaw to have a work out as much as my body did in the fight. Chewing upon it, I smiled as my tongue transformed into a monstrosity of one. Lashing out like a whip at the meat. The tip slicing deep into the flesh and cutting off a piece that was a good enough for a bite. Piercing that piece with the tongue, I folded the tongue back into my mouth to devour the flesh.

I moaned and almost giggled as I could feel the blood bursting between my teeth, and the iron taste on my tongue and lips. Two soldiers walked over with their weapons drawn. Aiming it at me. Telling me to get down on the ground. Still holding the flesh in my hands, I smiled at them.

"Now why would I do that? It would make it hard to eat your friend here."
"Get down on the ground! Now!"
"Okay fine. Relax you plebs."

As I spoke the last word of Plebs, I threw the hunk of meat at the closest man. He flinched back from the sudden change as I was up on my feet. Drawing my Katana, and had brought the blade to the second man's throat.

"Surprise."

With a push, the blade pierced through the weave that was covering his neck. Blood ran down my blade and squirted out from the vacuum caused by the blade piercing his skin. With a twist of my hips, and a follow through of the blade to my hard left, it cut clean through half of his neck, and into his buddies neck. Head removed and fell to the ground just a second before his body did.

I smiled as I cleaned my blade off by wiping it off on his uniform. Leaving the trail of blood on his clothes. After replacing the black back into the sheath, I sat back down on my seat. And used the force to drag the dying man towards me. Trying to cover his neck as he garbled through blood and spat it into his helmet.

"You know, if you just leave a little girl alone, then she won't have to eat you alive. Oh, correction. Eat you while you are dying. Makes for a more satisfying meal. Don't you agree?"

Before the man could garble anything else, I reached out, grabbing his arm, and bit into his wrist. Even though half of his neck was gone and he was dying fast. I could still hear the man screaming past his helmet as he wanted to fight me, but couldn't considering I severed part of his spinal cord. I smiled gleefully as I continued my meal.

Unless someone needed me, I would be eating.

[member="Ignus"], [member="Krest"], [member="Darth Abyss"], [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Victor Mors"], [member="Abraxas"], [member="Otho Rendoro"] , [member="Emissary"], [member="Serenity Loveheart"], [member="Korogum"],