Public Atrisia II: Electric Boogaloo.

[Mitth'rae'leios]

~ ~ ~
​

What had begun as a simple rendezvous for reinforcements in answer to the call of a compatriot had quickly begun to spiral out of control.

As the ships weapons, as well as those aligned within his arrangement of craft, began to open fire the Chiss' attention was drawn aptly to a message from the ships in question. A warning? Rather it was a threat. While he, at first, did not consider the gravity of the message in question nor the implications of taking the message into little consideration he could not help but ponder silently upon the purpose of the message; given it's closeness to the arrival of his ships and the events transpiring over the contested planet.

He relayed a command to open up a direct scan of the ships that had been fired upon, with the exception of those that had not responded to his arrival, and began to pore over the information that was being relayed to his personal holo-array. He was hardly capable of making a relatively capable analysis before a new set of signals entered the system just within range of both his own ships and those opposite them. One ship among them of a sizable manner that he could only assume was a Dreadnaught.

An interesting choice in the matter in regards to a contested planet within unclaimed territory of the Core Worlds.

It was then, and only then, that he finally was able to scrape through the information that had been read upon the aforementioned ships and the new arrivals; though it was of uncanny help that the message received directly from the Dreadnaught relayed his answer before he could finish his informational digestion.

The Confederacy of Independent Systems.

"This is a transmission to all ships within this arrangement under my control," the Chiss began as he leaned forward and pressed his hands against the railing before him, bracing himself for the impact of the weapons that had begun to fire at them. As he had anticipated, and quite instinctively, the command in charge of the drones aboard each ship had taken the initiative to divert drones into the path of all but a few of the long range weapons of the enemy ships. "Cease fire against the Confederacy ships and divert all power to the deflectors and shields. Bring a Cathedral class up and align it with an intercept course with the enemy's proton beam that is preparing to fire.

Attempt to open a frequency to both fleets in question and relay signals of independent IFF and be sure they've transmitted as loaned from the Mythos personal investments." He continued as he made to move from his perch atop his balcony and down towards the direct projection area of Legacy. Once he'd arrived he made short work of opening what he could to the opposing ships, ceasing to consider them enemies and merely considering them to be ambiguous presences. It was in that moment that he felt a modicum of relief that he had not opened fire upon the Silver Jedi ships and put the thought to rest as he turned his attention to his delivery.

"To those who have directed their attention to my arrival, and those who have arrived in question of it, it would seem I've acted in a mildly careless manner. While I was aware that there would be resistance in this system to the interests of those I am acting independently in assisting I did not presume that the CIS would extend their reach this far in such a manner. That being with ships of moderately foreign or modernized design. While that does not excuse the error," he paused and turned his attention to a read out screen that indicated that the ships he had called for upon his departure from Eternal Empire space had arrived. "I would request a parlay in light of an attempt to remedy this course of action and have called off the fire from my ships accordingly. I would request to know what business the Confederacy has in this system and how I might assist in promoting the success of that endeavor while still attempting to achieve progression with the campaign by Mythos on the planet's surface."

He let himself trail off as yet another set of signals entered the system broadcasting yet another set of signals popped up into the system. While he had not made indication to the opposing ships that the arriving Eternal Empire fleet was in association with him in tandem with his own independent actions, he knew that it was best to assume that the Confederacy might well take it upon themselves to act in kind merely upon the registration of the ships in question. Nevertheless he delivered a private encrypted message on a secured network to the the Admiral to insist they follow suit with an attempt to call for a parlay.

"As for your express insistence that my life is forfeit for merely opening fire upon what I assumed to be blatantly hostile ships, I am aware of no authority by the Confederacy over this region of the Core to determine whether or not my life is mine or not. That notion aside, I would prefer to avoid unnecessary destruction of assets and to put forward a gesture to exit each player in this accordance to leave the dispute settled on the planet once any interests have been settled. If that is not possible than I am afraid I will have to submit to the reality that a skirmish is at hand; though I do not wish to have this matter come to that."

As he finished he stepped back from the comms array and turned his attention once more to the ships in orbit. The Legacy began to reverse it's position to mask itself behind the various ships around it as he knew that the arriving ships would likely divert their fire to attempt to destroy it. It was in sync with that that each ship diverted all their power away from weapons and to the necessary shields as ordered. He knew that this was going to be a long day, and that each element would not allow for it to be as simple as he would likely anticipate.

Nevertheless he was prepared for the worst. It never failed to be prepared, especially against opposition that would not relent.

Returning slowly to his balcony, diverting the comms channel to his private holo should it be answered as well as delivering a message to prepare for further combat to the Eternal Empire admiral, he took up his position to observe once more in a silent desire that this would not become the conflict he felt that it might become. A dreadnaught was excessive and the inclusion of supercarriers a measure that was a modicum of ridiculous, but he would not say such things out loud. Confederacy's inclusion aside, he had anticipated the arrival of others parties to further contest the space and he was prepared to let loose his own form of response.

The question remained whether or not it would be necessary.

ATTN: Kyyrk | Amelia von Sorenn | Kiff Brayde | Lord Malleus

Spoiler: Fleet Action

All ships have ceased fire upon Voph's ships, and in turn those of Muad and braced against incoming fire from Voph's fleet. Fighter drones deployed to intercept most of the long range weapons fired.

One Cathedral class has been diverted from formation to intercept firing path of the Dreadnaught's Proton Beam cannon while other ships continue to hold even in light of the arrival of Kiff's fleet.

 

[Mythos]

"Horrible thing it is, to fall into the hands of the living God"
Hebrews 10:31

Location: Ruins of the palace - The Forbidden City

Objective: Busting makes me feel good

Target: P Placeholder 04

The storm was here, and the storm took the form of exactly who he expected. This was how things were after giving form in the storm that is the force. P Placeholder 04 was no longer a man, he instead embodied the storm that turned Jar'Kai into what it once was. He had no clue of the sheer power that he brought into the old palace as what few columns remained shook with the mere presence of his power.

As he spoke Mythos smiled in sheer awe of what he had achieved. It did good to his heart to see his old friend again, if he had a heart. He offered his hand, he offered redemption, he offered an end to the madness and the pain, the suffering and hate. He sounded like P Placeholder 0128 , he sounded exactly like his son. It turns out his blood was wrong, he was no monster anymore than the hurricanes were evil. He was a part of nature and sheer power given form from a ritual.

"Everything that has transpired has done so according to my design"

He made no attempt to reach for his hand, his memory and reality had most definitely addled his senses. He had forgotten who Animus Malgus was and all this Mythos had foreseen thanks to the power of the Ancient Eye.

"I did not come all this way, cut through fate itself to be stopped because if your consent my old friend"

Mythos spoke and he eyes the being, the force entity more akin to a god than a man without so much as flinching. All the years of preparation, the betrayals, the backstabbing, the sacrifices and the war had lead to this. This was the moment where Mythos needed to grab destiny by the throat and bend the future to his will.

Thanks to Isar , Mythos had precisely the tool to achieve this goal. From his golden armor Mythos produced an ancient talisman called the Amulet of Angramar. It was a crystal created by him and the ewok to create a housing for beings such as force ghosts, smoke demons and entities of this class and level. Inside it was the spirit of Angramarr, chained to the will of the Sith Lord by the act of magic inside the amulet and now P Placeholder 04 would join his collection.

Instead of Mythos' hand clashing with his it was the amulet that did so and from it thousands of tendrils and ethereal whips shot from the thing and into the figure of Cyril Grayson. Much like a vacuum it would suck entities that did not have an anchor in this world, a body, a physical counterbalance in this world that was mortal.

The roar of Angramar could be heard, the other being inside the amulet screamed in agony as his life force was sapped to latch on to the Mephirium and bind the Force Entity to the amulet and thus to its master.

"If you are not with me then you are my enemy!"

The Sith Lord bellowed and with his free hand began shifting through runes and incantations, each word and gesture latching another lock and chain to the essence of the Mephirium, slowly harnessing the energy and power needed to fuel the storm one more time. Lighting ripped and cracked through the room, stone snapped and winds howled in protest but Mythos would not budge. Just like when He and Warok created the artifact, now with it he could do this all alone, like wrangling a wild oxibeast.

The struggle and the blast only accelerated the already young hurricane forming in Jar'Kai. Winds of toxic air mixed with miasma, bota and Drugs whipped around too powerful to drug and damage but too weak to hurt anyone just yet. This was changing, Mythos was as Cyril said accelerating the Age of Chaos, he was pushing through what was written and because of the Ancient Eye changing things to his will.

With one last powerful enchantment and seal Mythos brought the amulet above his head and attempted to syphon the entire power of the Ancient Storm into the Amulet of Angramar and thus into the palm of his hands.

"I do not bring the Age of Chaos! I am it's Avatar!"
​

 

[Ben Craig]

Location : Atrisian Space
Objective : Destroy enemies of the Directorate and Mythos
Enemies : Jedi Order , Local Artisan Opposition and Agents of Chaos
Allies : Followers of Mythos , Sith Beillegrants , The Directorate
Important Tags : Muad Dib | Sor-Jan Xantha | Kyyrk | Darren Jarok | Adam Versili

Spoiler: Directorate Fleet

• 1 Praetorian-Class Star Destroyers
• 5 Pellaeon-III Star Destroyers
• 10 Subjugator-Class Star Destroyers
• 8 Donnager-Class Star Destroyers
• 92 StarFighter/Bomber Squadrons

Spoiler: Fleet Action

• A.F Lucky and Banzai are currently being attacked by all Pellaeon III Star Destroyers.
• Fighters continue their engagement
• Subjugator Class Star Destroyers and Bonnager Class Star Destroyer engage tractor beams on A.F Lucky and Banzai to slow them down to enable better accuracy from the starfighters and bombardment from the pellaeons.

The battle seemed to be turning in the favor of the Directorate forces. Both A.F Lucky and A.F Banzai were doomed. "Continue to engage the Atrisian and Jedi warships. We need to protect Admiral Versili's fleet. Direct all attention to those ships engaging the Admiral. Deploy two more starfighter squadrons." Ben watched as his fleet moved forward next to Versili's fleet. Their combination of ships made them a powerful team. "Use tractor beams to target the two Jedi ships we are targeting, slow them down."

"The tide is turning in our favor captain." As if on cue, more ships emerged out of hyperspace joining the battle. "That can't be good. Ignore the new arrivals for now and continue engaging the Atrisian and Jedi forces. They are our main priority. If the newcomers engage, deploy twenty starfighters."

 

[Jerec Asyr]

The struggle and the blast only accelerated the already young hurricane forming in Jar'Kai. Winds of toxic air mixed with miasma, bota and Drugs whipped around too powerful to drug and damage but too weak to hurt anyone just yet. This was changing, Mythos was as Cyril said accelerating the Age of Chaos, he was pushing through what was written and because of the Ancient Eye changing things to his will.
​

A storm was kicking up, and all kinds of disturbances that sort of showed up as bizarre things on the freighter's sensor readouts. None of this was any of Jerec's business: he'd dumped the client's load of spice, consigning Jedi and Sith alike to two days of Forcelessness.

"BUCKAWW!"

"Wait, what?" Jerec craned his neck over and looked down as he banked the ship through a turn. A lone figure in golden armor stood at the apex of the hurricane, waving a small, shiny, valuable-looking object. "Huh. Guess the spice hasn't kicked in for him yet. But I dunno, bud, he sure looks high."

The Infinity's Free leaped away, bound for the upper atmosphere of Atrisia and eventual safety.

 

[Kyyrk]

P A R L E Y

OBJECTIVE: Parley with the Rogue Elements of the Sith Incursion.
LOCATION: Holding Ground opposing both Eternal Empire fleets
FLEET: The Desolation, Archwing Destroyers x2. Vanguard Battlegroups x3 (See Spoiler)
TAGS: Sor-Jan Xantha | Mythos | Adam Versili | Muad Dib | Mitth'rae'leios | Ben Craig | Lord Malleus​

Voph paused momentarily as the shots from a fresh fleet began to buffet the Desolation. Of course the Chiss would have backup. And these ships were clearly Eternal Empire. No mistaking them. Warning sirens sounded as the Desolation was caught in a Tractor Beam, and Ion shots were beginning to take systems offline. Engines were struggling, but minimal power remained. Life Support, however, was a different story. Voph stood, brow furrowing as he looked through his own ship to the newcomer's fleet. Reports began streaming in about the twin Archwings flanking his flagship were under heavy fire. Minor hull damage, but battle effectiveness was still above ninety percent.

All this, as the first admiral called for parley. Voph frowned. Clearly his plan had been to sweep and clear this sector. What had changed? Surely someone who claimed to be as cunning as the Chiss would have anticipated backup. It was a ruse. It had to be. But, Voph raised a hand, commanding the ships in his line to hold their fire. Aside from the initial salvo that ripped through the Chiss line, not a shot was fired. His ships were sturdy. They could take another volley before they would even break a sweat. And the newcomer was foolish enough to only target the Desolation. He paid no mind to the rest of his ships, or their compliments. Oh well. Such would have been his undoing.

Voph was quiet for a moment, weighing his options. The damage his ships had suffered, he could shrug off. But he wasn't keen to take more volleys like that. He sighed to himself, and said, "All ships, stand down. Fighters, assume defensive formations around the fleet. Let's hear them out."

Voph listened quietly as the Chiss spoke about this being a neutral world. And how he assumed the ships were blatantly hostile. Voph sighed quietly. So that was how this was going to be, was it? Voph gestured to turn on the holocamera, sending the image of him to the opposing commander. "You initiated first contact. You fired the first shot. You have declared war upon the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Now, our armies and navies have been roused and rallied. We will accept nothing less than your full departure from the Atrisian system. Immediately. Should you fail to comply, you accept the reality that someone else will be raising your sons."

Voph lifted a hand, and casually flicked the camera off. He had really hoped they had more to say for themselves than "We shot first and asked questions later." A broadcast was sent across the Confederate channels. "All battlegroups, on standby. The Eternal Empire has been given one final chance to reconsider their actions. If they fire first, you are authorized to rend their ships to scrap."

Lightning began to arc between Voph's fingers as they splayed apart. The air around him began to hum as the Force charged the Meditation Chamber. The Battle Meditation reignited with a zealous fury. Across the line, warnings and sirens began to sound. Electrical anomaly inbound. Voph smiled to himself as lightning began to arc down his hands to his shoulders, soon enveloping his being. The ships along the line began charging their cannons, with The Desolation's own weapons super charged from the Ion Barrage that had assaulted its Molecular Shields. The Ultimatum had been given. It was now the choice of the Eternal Empire. Leave the Confederacy to conduct their mission in peace, or be destroyed.

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• Desolation has taken hits from Ion weaponry, charging the Molecular Shields and by extension overcharging the main cannons for a return volley. As of yet NO shots have been fired.
• Desolation Escort Vessels have taken minor damage, but battle effectiveness is unchanged.
• All fighters have returned to Defensive Formations around the fleet.
• All ships are charging cannons for another salvo, but NO shots have been fired.
• Voph has re-cast Battle Meditation to the benefit of Sor-Jan Xantha , Kiff Brayde , and Amelia von Sorenn , as well as their respective fleets, and to the detriment of any Sith or Eternal Empire aligned forces in the area.
• Voph has placed further military assets on standby should the Eternal Empire forces refuse to withdraw.

Spoiler: Vanguard Battlegroups

• Vanguard Carrier x1
  • DX-01 Octarch Fighter x10 Squadrons
  • DX-74 Mynock Interceptor x10 Squadrons
  • DX-53 Monarch Gunship x6 Squadrons
  • DX-63 Paladin Minelayer x6 Squadrons
  • DX-84 Archon Bomber x10 Squadrons
• Archwing Destroyer x5

​

 

[Bernard]

Currently: Is this what emotions are like?
Location: Surface of Atrisia, a small way's away from Ryv , Aaran Tafo , NPC Treasury

The Arkanian had never come into contact with any form of mind-altering substance. The effects of the spice were accelerated within his system, his biology never having even begun to build a resistance to drugs of any kind. Aaran’s voice came in winding and swirly, like the colours. The notes of each syllable carried colours and tastes. It was wholly discomposing. The words’ meaning wasn’t entirely lost, nor was the awareness of a mission.

The sudden sensation of a hand drew his gaze downward. Leather clasped the lower half of his face or had it become part of his face? He wasn’t quite sure. He could barely feel the cold touch against his skin. His gaze shifted quickly, however, his attention drawn by the motions of more leather pointing towards the mechanical face of his fellow Jedi.

When had Ryv undergone a cybernetic enhancement? He’d never been genuinely interested in anyone, nor had he any desire to ever be, but he had to admit that Ryv’s face mask addition took him several ranks down the impromptu list of attractive Jedi. Though who did he drop beneath?

Danger. Something dangerous. An impression of something dangerous settled in his mind. Something dangerous … invading. The invasion of Atrisia? Atrisia sounded familiar, he lingered on the word. The invasion of something inside, not Atrisia, Atrisia was not inside, it was outside. Inside. Inside. Danger was invading inside.

The impression Ryv attempted to impart had been almost completely lost on Bernard. His connection to the Force had begun to weaken, his perception of reality fading dramatically.

Inside the danger invades. Perhaps it was something to do with the mask? Breathing was taking air from the outside inside. Was it air that was invading? Air that was the danger?

The Arkanian took one big breath and held it.

No! That was taking in more of the danger.

He exhaled sharply, attempting not to draw another breath. It worked for a few moments before his instincts kicked in, forcing another intake of air.

Useless. You’re useless. What point was there in fleeing from your duties to help the other Jedi when you were nothing but useless? When you were a danger to them? Remember Kuat? Remember the man you nearly cut down, in anger? You aren’t fit to be a Jedi. You can’t even defend yourself from the air! Pathetic.

The Arkanian’s gaze lowered as he sat down on the dirt, knees drawn close to his body as he wrapped his arms around them. He let his head tilt forward and rest on his legs, just high enough so his eyes peered out from above his knees. The icy white eyes stared at Ryv as he moved further away, a shadowy figure blurring slowly as his form began to dissolve into that of the soldiers, the other Jedi, and the woman.

Pathetic. The voice wasn't his own, but an echo of another Jedi. It came with the familiar sensation of a training blade's sting. The Arkanian instinctively twitched inwards.

 

[John Locke]

​

R E I N F O R C E​

​

Location: On the way to Atrisia​

Objective: The Cavalry's on the way​

Tags: ​

Allies: Kyyrk | Amelia von Sorenn | Kiff Brayde | Luna Terrik | Malok | Atrisian Forces | Jedi​

Enemies: Sith | Eternal Empire | Mythos | Mitth'rae'leios | Adam Versili | Muad Dib | Lord Malleus | Ben Craig​

​

There must be something in the air in Geonosis, no sooner had one alarm been safely dealt with than another captured John’s attention, dragging him away from the research and business that was his refuge, his sole interest. First, it had been some attack on the viceroyalty, a sophisticated attack hitting the CIS both physically and via the holonet in an attempt to penetrate their defences and kidnap the Vicelord’s advisor. It was an attempt that had forced the man out of the web of information and research he had cocooned himself in, emerging to draw upon his abilities to match and counter the Slicer. Stretching muscles that he hadn’t had to use in a long time John had fended off that attack on behalf of the Confederacy.​

​

So now here he was, called upon again to protect his home, only this time it wasn’t something he could do from the safety of his office. This time he would have to go to meet the threat...but at least the chair was comfortable.​

​

The dark-haired man span his chair around, watching the crew, his crew, shifting and moving around him like a living organism. It was scary how easy it was to just fall back into the comforting embrace of the military. The efficiency of the machine that swallowed him up, leaving him nothing more than a cog in the machine. There was a sense of peace and calm that seemed to encompass him as he folded into that familiar space. Dark eyes dropped down to stare at the holographic screen in front of him, watching the lights shifting, turning green as the fleet that had been thrown together reported their readiness in.​

​

There was a time that John had wanted nothing more than to be a creator, to make droids and tools to help people make their lives just a little easier. To help them with the every day chores that proved so busy, protocol droids, cleaning and maintenance droids. New and cheaper means of transport, better medical tools. It had been the dream that had launched him into the stars where he found only endless war. Now, the factories he’d once envisaged lifting people up pumped out weapons and ships used for one purpose and one purpose alone. To kill.​

​

Somewhere along the line, without him realising when, that idealistic little boy had become a Lord of War.​

​

There was a melancholy about John these days that he couldn’t seem to shake, a sadness that sank right into his bones. That filled his gaze as he glanced at the viewscreen, at the image of stars twinkling in the sky. A thousand, a million twinkling motes lighting up the darkness of space. A million points of possibility and hope, a million markets to exploit and battlefields to fight on. Countless more graves and bodies to mourn. Countless more children looking up at the stars and hoping, dreaming their idealistic dreams.​

​

John knew that there wasn’t much of a chance for him to find the happiness that they dreamed of, that he’d once hoped for. But, maybe, just maybe, if he could make it so just one of them, one drop in the ocean made it. Then maybe he could look back on his life and be...satisfied. Maybe then this sadness that consumed him would have been worth it.​

​

“Send to the Vicelord and CDF command. The Fleet will now depart to reinforce Master Voph and High Marshalls Brayde and von Sorren.”​

​

At the end of his words ship after ship blinked away, making the jump into lightspeed, moving faster than the eye could see. A storm of metal and death closing on Atrisia.​

​

All over the galaxy fables were told warning children not to poke the bear, or the wampa for fear of the consequences. The Confederacy had been poked and like a slumbering Krayt Dragon roused to wakefulness it would respond.​

​

((OOC: Fleet will be posted upon arrival))​

​

 

[Luna Terrik]

P R O T E C T ​

Location: Barracks of The Desolation
Objective: Reinforce against possible boarding parties
Equipment:
Tags:
Allies: Kyyrk | Amelia von Sorenn | Kiff Brayde | John Locke | Malok | @Damsy Callet | Tiria Reinhart | Atrisian Forces | Jedi
Enemies: Sith | Eternal Empire | Mythos | Mitth'rae'leios | Adam Versili | Muad Dib | Lord Malleus | Ben Craig
Equipment: BAW-88 Blaster Carbine, Tactical Recon Handguns (2), Personal Armor, CryoBan Grenade (4), Thermal Detonator (2)

Luna hadn’t believed during the beginning of this whole embarrassment of a fight that she, nor ten of her best squads would be needed whatsoever. There was even the possibility that the fight wouldn’t even involve the fleets of the Confederacy. Pulling the grand marshal of the Dauntless forces for a fight that may not happen might not have seemed like the greatest of ideas, but, once again, the Vicelord seemed to understand the situation better than most. Space fights were never the redhead’s specialty anyway. Defending ships, repelling any sort of would be boarders, and general person to person combat was absolutely something her, and her squads could handle.

Nothing had occurred just yet, as the enemies of the Confederacy didn’t seem interested in attempting to board and take the capital ship just yet. However, with the escalation in violence between the differing forces, Luna had felt prompted to activate all squads and send them to their spread out locations all over the ship. Helping her coordinate these efforts was the dark skinned captain standing alongside her on the command deck. One of her most trusted friends and comrades, Captain Callet. Rarely would Luna go into combat without the sithling by her side. Not that she felt any sort of safe if she didn’t.

“This might feel like a waste of time if nothing ever comes of this attack, captain.” The redhead gave the woman to her side a sideways glance, light smirk playing at the edges of her lips. Of course it wasn’t a waste of time. Dauntless was there for a reason. Just like they always were. Luna didn’t question it much. Too many questions led to some not so fun answers. “Still, it’s a good chance I think to work on some of these…boarding repelling tactics. We don’t have time to drill this sort of thing much.” A little shrug after the statement this time. The dauntless, especially their commandos, were the best organic fighting force the Confederacy could put out. Of course, like any fighting force, they had places they weren’t as crisp as others. Getting the chance to be deployed to different places helped patch those holes that training might not fully cover.

A familiar voice began to crackle over her comm, one that she had heard very recently. John Locke. Good man, had helped with the cleanup on one of those backwards planets near the edge of the Confederacy’s outreach. Though his voice sounded just a tad deeper. Perhaps something wrong with the comms. Who knows. The man was plenty rich enough. Hearing that he was coming to assist in the fight was a good sign. Meant that the high command was really taking this whole thing seriously. As they should. Acts such as the ones going on in this battle were not things that would be forgotten in a week. High command wouldn’t be pouring as many resources here if that was the case.


​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

.​

Aboard the Halcyon...​

​

The clasps of Maliphant’s armor clicked shut - offering little more than a final sigh to his acceptance for war. Srina Talon had asked him to come, and as her advisor - her fist and hand in these matters, he had agreed; but now he was subject to the whim and command of John Locke . Maliphant knew the man, though under a different name and face - but he wasn’t sure about his leadership as of yet.​

​

Conceptualizing leadership over himself was… hard to say the least. He had been alone for so long, answering to none but himself - and the idea of one giving him commands reminded him more of his days as a slave. Not as a specific spite against Locke, but the position he sat in, it seemed. A temporary thought - and one he had to bury for the sake of Srina.​

​

Lifting Noana, he could feel her through it. The faint essence she left inside of the sword was warm, comforting - Maliphant could almost feel her hand over his has he hefted the blade into a scabbard near his lightsaber and wandered onto the bridge in full regalia. Some glanced back to him as he entered, hood barely pulled over his head as he looked to the stars that dragged across the digitized viewport before them.​

​

His gaze wandered down to John, and he offered a smile - though he couldn’t hide it was vaguely forced. Afterall, ‘listening’ was a foreign concept to him, and one he was yet comfortable with.​

​

“Minister Locke.”, Maliphant offered quietly.​

​

“Do you have a plan of action we are to follow, or am I just going to pacify Mythos myself?”, he asked with crossed arms.​

​

John Locke​

​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

E X E C U T O R​

Aboard the Halcyon...

John Locke was the highest ranking individual on scene, and his voice would be loudest to the Viceroyalty in determination of how to proceed. That changed little about the subtleties that went on behind the scenes.

When it came to war and the battlefield however, few were so trusted to act in the Vicelord's own interests as his adoptive Brother. Alkor fielded hundreds of men in Isley's name over the past ten years, both Mandalorian and Confederate. He fought with the man even before he wore the moniker of Metus. When it came to Cassus Belli, in lieu of the Supreme Commander himself, the Jen'jidai was known to proceed accurately.

So, the threat of war or escalation with the Eternal Empire even under the current pretenses was to be made clearly and with concision by cooled heads.

When Darth Empyrean spoke of Mythos, Alkor turned his gaze out toward the stars that streaked past, ennui apparent. The Sith was of little concern to them now. The self-styled King of Atrisia's lust to command his sector was well known, myopic in scale, and of no concern to the Confederacy as a whole. It was his friends among the Eternal Empire- traitors to the Confederacy, to Metus- that concerned them now.

Alkor wore only a drab, black set of mangled Jedi robes with the hood drawn, obfuscating his face. His reddened eyes lambent, he turned his attention to the other two, listening intently. It was his business to hear, if not to interject.

The more he understood of their situation, the better his decisions would be.

They were an odd amalgam of ideals, this trio. A brash Sith with his own reasons for taking action, an idealist, and a barbarous Dark Jedi known for cruelty and malice. It was almost a beautiful representation of how diverse the Confederacy that Malok had designed and erected could be.

Perhaps that was the vision his Brother fought so fiercely to uphold. Even if it were a lie, it was a sweet one.

"Inform the Lord Vizier upon our arrival," he turned to one of the Communications Officers. "And request a status update. If the situation has deteriorated, we need to be apprised as quickly as possible."

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Location: Amidship of The Desolation
Objective: Reinforce against possible boarding parties
Allies: Kyyrk | Amelia von Sorenn | Kiff Brayde | John Locke | Malok | Damsy Callat | Luna Terrik | Atrisian Forces | Jedi
Enemies: Sith | Eternal Empire | Mythos | Mitth'rae'leios | Adam Versili | Muad Dib | Lord Malleus | Ben Craig
Equipment: Project Xiphos Armor | Modular Tri-Blaster | Micro Light Shield | Bayonet | Smoke Grenade (2) | Stun Grenade (4)

The Dauntless Commander and her Second had the bridge. Joining them there would be inefficient. They could just as easily relay orders to those operationally positioned, or in the event the bridge were destroyed the Commandos would be served better having someone of higher rank survive. Tiria had then chosen to take position at a more centralized location to likely boarding locations. She anticipated being able to arrive and take command of the most critical of encounters faster, if need be.

Not that a woman that acted as the primary focus of a Hive Mind needed to be physically present at every encounter. Command had imposed limits on her absorbing others into her Hive, but that hadn't stalled Tiria's efforts. There were always circumstances when an individual would accept an offer to Join; and Tiria was mindful of those opportunities. As a result there were several Commandos that while physically not Tiria were her eyes and ears. The skills of all Joined were thiers as much as it was her own, and she'd inserted one into the squads positioned throughout The Desolation.

As for the need for the Dauntless to be present effectively polishing their blasters, Tiria did not complain aloud. She had enough cumulative experience to know and accept 'crap' assignments happened. Would the enemy actually attempt to board The Desolation? It seemed more likely the Commandos would be left disappointed and bored as the various vessels fought among themselves. The fewer Commandos were injured or lost in a skirmish like this one, however, the better. From what Tiria had learned the entire fight seemed more of brinkmanship than necessity. Countless resources squandered for reasons that grew steadily more hazy as time wore on.

Not that Tiria was against it. Sometimes a government took a stand to make a point. The question was whether those involved knew when to call a truce.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Allies: Wyatt Morga Ryv Cambria Zadira Bernard
Enemies: NPC Treasury @Mooks
Location: Remind Kay that Actions have consequences.

"You're not capable." He said, his voice never changing from the stoic icy tone. His commlink beeped. The questions of the Kiffar Padawan parroted through the device for all to hear. He kept his line open, allowing Ryv to hear everything that was said while the other Padawan attempted to catch up to the others. "I see an arrogant, foolish woman who thinks she can control this situation." The soldier under the Padawan's feet began to move, trying to escape. But a quick stomp from the Jedi was enough to pacify them.

"You ran when Master Morga gave you a chance. Killing millions when you could have surrendered." He spat, levelling his blade, seemingly unperturbed by the various soldiers pointing their weapons at him. "You allowed countless people to suffer and die while you stood next to a delusional lunatic. Acting as his ally and confidant." Tilting his head to the side, various muscles popped and cracked. Power flooding through the Padawan's body as he prepared to move. She could see it in his eyes. Be it reckless courage, the audacity of youth or simple duty to his code. He was not going to willingly let her go without one hell of an explanation.

"If you have some kind of demented reason for this, you can explain it to Master Morga. Until then, I'm not letting you leave." One gesture with his free hand was enough to open another link on his communicator. Signalling none other than the afforementioned Jedi Master. Wyatt Morga

"Msater Morga, If you've got a moment. I have Mythos' apprentice on the line."

 

[NPC Treasury]

Kay slowly shook her head as Aaran Tafo began spatting out his point of view of what had transpired. He was wrong. She hadn't killed millions, she had saved them from a nuclear winter. The shield generators of the city had held when the Magnus had crashed, surprisingly. The Jedi failed to understand how the battleship operated. Both hated the vessel and wanted it destroyed. Yet now that it was, and in the best way possible, he was condeming her for it, as though destroying it with no life lost was as simple as turning off a light.

There was no black or white in this situation, no good nor bad. There was plenty of elements in between and it was those that this Jedi failed to see.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. You weren't there! He won't stop if you take me. It'll just make it worse!" How could she make it clear to him? Kay had agreed to stand by Mythos ' side so that she could prevent things like this battle from happening. But she was unprepared. She knew that Mythos would show off for her, yet it wasn't this type of display of power that she thought he'd think would impress her.

But all of that was worthless thoughts now; nothing more than hindsight and wishful thinking.

"Apprentice?!" Kay laughed in spite of herself as Aaran called Wyatt Morga . "I'm not Mythos' apprentice. That's absurd! Do you think that I bow down to him, kneel before him? Mythos is not my Master." He was something else. But what exactly that was, she still wasn't ready to put to words, despite Mythos having already done so in private conversation. It just wasn't her reality yet.

"I'm sorry...but I have to leave." Kay didn't outstretch her hand towards Aaran's body. She didn't have to. Instead she just focused on his heart and the living Force around it. And much like a Force choke she began to squeeze his heart. It was how she had incapacitated others, and how she had killed them too. She maintaned her grip, adding more and more pressure...

But then the spice that Jerec Asyr dropped in the atmosphere began to take affect. Kay lost her grip on the Force as she was cut off from it. "What?! No!" She stumbled back, wanting to put distance between the. Her guards kept their weapons leveled on the Jedi, their helmets keeping the air clear for them.

A maniacle laughter rang in Kay's ears, that of Lord Mayhem; a manifistation of a rival that she figured was dead or lost to space and time. This hallucination of hers helped her to escape execution by the Eternal Empire, but whether it would do so here remained to be seen. Right now it just taunted her. And as she turned and ran that laughter followed her, along with her guards.

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

WAR​

Location: E'care Shukur - Atrisia System
Objective: Proportional Response
Allies: Kyyrk | Tiria Reinhart | Kiff Brayde | @John Locke| Malok | Damsy Callat | Luna Terrik | Atrisian Forces | Jedi
Enemies: Sith | Eternal Empire | Mythos | @Mitth'rae'leio | Adam Versili | Muad Dib | Lord Malleus | Ben Craig

​

With the message being transmitted, the woman let out a rather annoyed growl before motioning towards one of the bridge crew, holding her hand up towards the gunner before finally speaking.

"Gunner crew is to hold fire; as per, we will allow the Eternal Empire to withdraw. If they fire first, the Gunner crew has the command to fire the Proton Beam Cannon at their flagship."

Bringing her hand back down, she took a step forward towards the large viewscreen, her focus upon the fleets resting off in the distance as she watched the vessels shift and move. A soft smirk crossed her lips beneath her helm as she watched a larger ship moving in front of the enemy fleet - likely an attempt to mitigate the E'care Shukur's main weapon. While it was a sound strategy, she still found some humor in their willingness to sacrifice a vessel in an attempt to protect the others; and now part of her desired and hoped that they would be foolish enough to fire first.

"All starfighter squadrons are to remain within the Asteroid Field created by the Enclave Hangers - they are to hold fire even if an enemy starfighter strays into the field - same order applies. If the squadrons are fired upon, they may remove the threat as seen fit."

With another heavy sigh, she brought her arms behind her back, clasping her hands together as she kept her focus forward. Watching and waiting, she lightly tapped her foot, attempting to mitigate both the annoyance of having to stand down and the waiting for the enemy's response.

​

Spoiler: High Marshal's Fleet

• The E’care Shukur - Flagship
• Enclave series Asteroid Hanger - (250)
  • (1000 Starfighter Squadrons)
    • Variable Geometry Self Propelled Battle Droid Mk II (425) [10,200]
    • Droid Tri-Fighter (150) [2400]
    • Raptor class Droid Bomber (125) [1000]
    • Imp class Gunship (50) [400]
    • Gidim class Bomber (50) [200]
    • Nupperibo class Starfighter (50) [1200]
    • Erinyes class Interceptor (50) [600]
    • Longsword class Starfighter (50) [600]
    • LISF-1 Starfighter (25) [300]
    • Death Glider (25) [300]
      • Total Squadrons (1,000)
      • Total Starfighters/Bombers (17,200)
        • Note: (# Squadrons) [# Starfighter]

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• E'care Shukur - Holding Fire
• All Starfighter Squadrons - Holding within the Enclave Asteroid Field

 

[Mythos]

The Storm

Targeting: Kyyrk Amelia von Sorenn Sor-Jan Xantha and the rest of the Confederate and Atrisian Fleets.

Lighting cracked and hummed, the palace shook and groaned as what few pillars remained toppled over. The Storm that was P Placeholder 04 was siphoned and funneled into the palm of his hands. The Hurricane around the forbidden city blinked out of existence as a powerful force repulse blasted the remains of the Temple save for the stone that made up what was left of his ancient throne.

The power was immense, the raw energy that was the spirits of his brothers, the nexus of the city, The Axe, The Ancient Eye and The Rudis of the Dark Lord overwhelmed him. He took a few steps and sat down on the blacked, burned stone that was his ancient throne and looked to the sky. With a gesture of his hands he willed every object through telekinesis to stand on five different points around him as in the floor runes and ancient symbols glowed in an eire green light.

" Lord Strava ... turn down the lights. I'm going to tip the scales and it would help if I am not disturbed"

From beneath the broken, golden helmet bathed in Aurodium those who would see, would see eyes in glowing, shining white light. The oppression of the dark side inside his throne room was indescribable, it was so heavy the air itself became thick with miasma that to breathe he needed his suits rebreather.

The Axe of Adas snapped, its blade clanged in the ground. The pommel of the Rudis fell, the blade and the rest of the weapon burned and vanished. The Amulet of Angramar Split in two and each crystal headed to the center. Together these three artifacts formed a Rod that emanated incredible power.

This was the Rod of Mephirium, The Star Scepter, The Spear of the Storm. Once Mythos' hand made contact with it there was a dead silence that consumed the entire planet. He raised the artifact to the sky, focused on the signatures in orbit, used The Ancient Eye to gaze into the future and the first thing that Darth Empyrean and his fleet would see when they jumped to hyperspace in this system was a Force Storm that enveloped half the orbit.

From his throne Mythos would balance the orbit, as flies they came to the swatter. They willingly came even after they were warned, Maliphant himself knew of all of this years ago, before anyone else did. The Storm was placed to swallow the Confederate Fleet, contingent by contingent.

The Scepter did the work, most of it, Mythos was its master and the Scepter was the source. He could now sit back and simply control the God-like power of the Force Storm in orbit like Mephirium did fourteen years ago but much easier, with a lot more control and using an item to control it instead of his own will and mastery over the force... and without dying or killing his friends to do it.

He clicked on his long range communicator and contacted Mitth'rae'leios , Ben Craig , Lord Malleus and the rest of his commanders.

"All fleets open fire. Show them what Atrisia does to uninvited guests" ​

 

[Lord Strava]

Damien heard his allies voice through the haze that was the sounds of battle. Turn down the lights, eh? He was already on it. With that Damien began to do similar as Mythos.

Garnering power from the darkness around them, the ancient Sith reached into the Force. Spreading it wide, he became a funnel for the will of the shadows. Combined with his own recently bound Spirits empowering the actions, Damien looked skyward toward the Storm. It was pushing out Darkside energies unlike most he had ever felt.

Like the aforementioned funnel, a small central locale opened up to an ocean of power. The Darkside was like a physical thing here, thick in it's beating hatred. Worse than any form of emotion he had ever felt before.

At this point, his Waves of Darkness were so powerful, even from where he was, at the epicenter, it was ice cold. Frost could form here.

This was his power. This was his reason for returning.

Closing his eyes to all life around himself, he dropped low. The ground beneath him began to give way, letting him free fall in the void. Sound dissappeared in its entirety. Sensation ceased as he dropped low into the power of the Force. Its embrace that of an old lover.

Lower and lower until his own persona began to be less vibrant.

When his eyes opened, they seemed acute and yet dull. They took in everything yet saw nothing. He was open to the Force on a level he never had been before. This could be due to having only returned to the living not long ago.

Already his eyes were slowly burning, or so it appeared. Cobalt hues became amber and acidic. The Darkside was effecting him at an elemental level. His very basic makeup was changing, warping. This was a life time of darkness forced into a body in minutes.

Despite the agony his body felt, nearly crumpling him with its weight, Damien felt his body strengthen. His limbs would see him through this. Whether he would be whole, or unscathed, was to be seen. But he was alive for now. His body was whole for now.

Roaring out against his pain, Damien filled the surroundings with his Waves. They stretched and writhed, seeking to consume all that they could. He knew nearby was a powerful Force for the good. They would likely begin to sense his power growing.

The Waves of Darkness are a top tier power to enact. How could he hope to hide it.

Junko Ike Zanza Hijikata

 

[Ryv]

Ryv watched the exchange between the duo with confusion in his eyes. He couldn't tell what was going on beyond Aaran's claims, but it wasn't as if Kay was making it easier to empathize. Her words reminded him of those pleading innocence for a crime they only partially committed. Things like a lack of choice or greater understanding tended to cloud the mind and corrupt one's judgment. He couldn't say for sure who was right or who was wrong, but he knew she did not deny the claims. There was an opportunity to tell them she was innocent, she did not damn others to die, or anything other than basically admitting to it. Which was more than enough for him to unclip the lightsaber hilt at his side and step up beside Aaran.

"Hey Lad-" before Ryv could even call out to her, she turned and raced past her guards. "Dude, you're running doesn't help your case!" the kiffar nodded to Aaran before racing forward, towards the troop. The smaller kiffar winked at the first of the guards he stepped up to, before batting a weapon aside and sending a powerful wave of kinetic energy point-blank into the man's chest. As the body blew back and away from the kiffar, he dodged back from an attack aimed to crack into his skull and slashed out with his saber, deflecting a loosed shot out and away from the group. "Guys lets not get hasty here," he fluidly dodged around another guard and quite literally maneuvered his way through them like he was playing a game of tag. "I'm not gonna kill anyone, but some of you guys might want to sign a waiver!"

As Ryv moved to kick out out the back of one's knee he snaked by, he made eye contact with Aaran and nodded his head in the direction of Kay. "Go get her, brother! One of us needs to stay behind to watch Bernie and take out this band of thugs!" Ryv's arm looped around one guard's belt as he spun around him, switching their positions. The maneuver seemed almost entirely unnecessary, up until the butt of a rifle connected into that poor guard's helmet. "I've got my force-y stuff still, so I'll be good," it was out of character for the normally lazy padawan to take up much in the way of risk.

Thus far, the Jedi only meant to put the guards off balance and take their attention. The lightsaber had been kept close to ward away any attacks that struck too close to home.

Aaran Tafo | Bernard | NPC Treasury​

 

[Ben Craig]

Location : Atrisian Space
Objective : Destroy enemies of the Directorate and Mythos
Enemies : Jedi Order , Local Artisan Opposition and Agents of Chaos
Allies : Followers of Mythos , Sith Beillegrants , The Directorate
Important Tags : Muad Dib | Sor-Jan Xantha | Kyyrk | Darren Jarok | Adam Versili Mythos

Spoiler: Directorate Fleet

• 1 Praetorian-Class Star Destroyers
• 5 Pellaeon-III Star Destroyers
• 10 Subjugator-Class Star Destroyers
• 8 Donnager-Class Star Destroyers
• 92 StarFighter/Bomber Squadrons

Spoiler: Fleet Action

• A.F Lucky and Banzai are currently being attacked by all Pellaeon III Star Destroyers.
• Fighters continue their engagement
• Subjugator Class Star Destroyers and Bonnager Class Star Destroyer engage tractor beams on A.F Lucky and Banzai to slow them down to enable better accuracy from the starfighters and bombardment from the pellaeons.

Ben paced up and down the deck, watching as they hammered the Jedi ships. "Sir, incoming transmission from Lord Mythos." Ben stopped, "Put it through.

"All fleets open fire. Show them what Atrisia does to uninvited guests" ​

The transmission ended, and everyone looked at Ben. "Get me a tag on the new comers." A few minutes later, Ben got confirmation they were CIS. "Send a message to Lord Mythos, Lord Mythos, it appears the "univited guests" are the Confederacy. Do we still open fire on them?"

 

[Mythos]

Location: The Forbidden City
Objective: The... Who?

Thanks to Arashi Hagane , Mythos had been entirely disconnected from comms and any orbital action since before Kyyrk even showed up. He used the Eye to predict and foresee what was happening but it had its limits at specifics. He sat upon a slab of charred and blackened stone and sat back, enjoying the fruits of his labor. He commanded the storm using the Rod that was lit like a flame, from it blue ethereal fire blazed giving the only light the room had.

It was almost sunrise when the words of Ben Craig came back in a distorted, static infested communication from orbit. His smile faded into a look of incredulity, The Confederacy?

" Darth Metus ?" His name made the light of his eyes vanish, he turned his head and blew out the ethereal fire of the Rod and with it, the Force Storm from existence. Now it was a question as to why were they here? Didint he tell Metus, Sirina and Maliphant personally that he was going to reclaim this throne years ago? Was that a dream? Or was that the future? The power of the Rod was begining to shake his understanding of linear time, it sought to grant omnipresence but no mortal form could handle such power. So it just jumbled you...

"Belay that order Admiral, follow all instructions from Confederate Officers. I have a meeting to set up, your services are appreciated and no longer required. If you wish to dock your personal ship and stay in Jar'Kai for the reconstruction... you are welcome to do so"

He clicked off his comm and threw a singular chip to his communication officer, he would switch frequencies to the personal transceiver of Darth Metus. Mythos would summon the King of Free men to the Halla of Jar'Kai. It was time...

"Brother... I think some of yours are here... i think i might have killed some men." He sat back in the throne room, tapping the stone and watching the sky lighting with fire, the same dying down little by little. He finally watched the sunrise on a greatful world.

"Do you think you can come? I'm finally home..."​

 

[NPC Treasury]

Kay knew that running wasn't going to help her reputation. But she had been locked up and tortured far too many times to even entertain the option of just accepting it. Mythos had men not far off. She just had to get to them.

The laughter of Lord Mayhem rang loud in her ears. ~Running again, Kay-Kay? Can't fight them without help? Tsk tsk tsk. You've got a rebreather on you and you don't even use it?~

Kay had forgotten about that. This set of armour was new to her, so she wasn't even fully aware of all of it's bells and whistles. She slowed down her running so that she could remove the rebreather from just below the collar and fit it over her mouth. Aaran Tafo was bound to be at her heels, so she had to keep moving. That is unless he had chosen to give up.

The guards fought Ryv , but merely did so as a distraction to help Kay get away. One of them radioed ahead and asked for a speeder to get to their destination.

As the voice of Lord Mayhem began to die down, Kay overheard the chatter on her comms. Help was coming. Soon she'd be free and clear of being put behind bars.

It won't be long now.