Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Invasion Battle for Balance Chapter II — GA invasion of DE held Tython


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Allies: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Ran Serys Ran Serys Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti Mahsa Mahsa Pal Veda Pal Veda
Enemies: Joseph Torson Joseph Torson Tibera Jessen Tibera Jessen Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos Abraxas Colt Abraxas Colt

The cacophony of battle was muffled as they retreated into the guts of the ship. Zaiya was the first up the maintenance shaft, and with surprising strength, managed to remove the emergency panel's durasteel covering. As she clambered up the darkened tunnel, Cora couldn't see what the Padawan was doing, but she heard the telltale sizzle of those tiny EMP grenades as they fizzled against the lift's electronic components.

Cora arrived at the hatch shortly after Zaiya continued upward, leaping from disc to disc to ascend the shaft. With a wave of her hand, the knight called the discarded hatch lid towards her and hopped atop it. The durasteel disc beneath her feet hovered in the air, before it too rose through the emergency lift's access way.

Kahlil was behind them, and Ran and Mahsa had split off into another maintenance corridor. The Dark presence above them was felt keenly in the Force, rippling down the shaft in waves of icy dread that tried to pierce her heart. She sensed...panic? Lives fading, then manifesting as something more twisted and perverse. Cora's pulse fluttered for a moment before it settled. She flexed her organic hand, fingers curling towards her palm as pressure built in the Force.

The Imperials were not daft. There was a reason they'd been successful in cutting through Alliance territory and claiming Tython. The bridge would be ready for them, but the Jedi had tested themselves against more unconventional foes before. The Force would guide them.

A faint light seeped through the closed doors at the top of the emergency shaft. They were nearing the exit point on the bridge.

"Here we go," she murmured. "There's something unnatural on the other side."

Cora thrust her hand upward and released the blast of energy that had been building it her palm. It punched through the doors, denting them severely and blowing one from its hinge. Leaping from the opening, her fingers clenched again as an invisible force tore the door from its remaining hinge, levitating it to block anticipatory fire.

The bridge had the thick, sickly scent of rotting meat. Husks of men and women – or their corpses, rather – clad in Imperial uniforms made for an unnerving sight.

"Don't let them touch you! We don't know what they are."

Cora's face pulled into a grimace as she activated her lightsaber, severing the hand of a walking cadaver as he reached for his his blaster.

"How uncouth."

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Objective: Steal The Portal
Tags: Pal Veda Pal Veda | Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania | Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti | Mahsa Mahsa | Ran Serys Ran Serys | Joseph Torson Joseph Torson | Tibera Jessen Tibera Jessen | Abraxas Colt Abraxas Colt | Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos

"Unnatural is it?"

Kahlil took a breath as he stood beside Corazona at the top. The Force was.. Hazy, at the moment for him. Something was affecting him, that much was clear. Not Ysalimiri, not void stones if the Imperials had them. Something else. Inward he could feel it now. He didn't know what was slipped, but he also didn't have time to deal with it and everything else going on.

A deep breath pulled the Force through him. Along his skin the normally invisible runes flared to life. Defense measures, really. A last line to keep him moving despite the scars he still carried from the Dark. Further he reached, pulling on the Dyad he had with Valery Noble Valery Noble . This infection wasn't going to be pulled from his body just yet. Corazona blasted open the door for him and Zaiya to step in. Undead.

He chuckled. The former Necromancer that he was couldn't help it. Turning allies into minions, what a very Sith thing to do. "They got me below. Not sure what, but the Force feels.. Distant. I'll have to focus everything on the portal. I trust you two can handle this?" He knew they could, though, he reached out to Zaiya. "Hand." Once he had it, he traced a different, simple rune on the back of hers that glowed with what could only be the Light.

"Work with Cora, but focus on staying safe."

She could handle this. He stepped past them, towards the center of the room. The runes along his skin continued their glow, preventing the mindless undead from approaching. They couldn't. The Light he held burned too bright. He took another deep breath as he settled into a seated position, letting his eyes close as he pulled on the echo of the Force he still felt. As he pulled on the Force through the Dyad, through Tython below.

I can feel your eyes.

The bridge came to life. Machinery from the Jedi of old reacted to the Force, reacted to his will. The aged Master floated from the ground as new symbols etched their way across his form, across the ground. Across the station.

Across the void of space.

The Rift before him crackled and distorted. The portal that had been used by the Maw, the fracture in time and space. He'd long studied how to utilize it for more than just one location. Hours, days, weeks, months, they'd blurred together in his work to find the right sequence.

This is my creation. Lets see how well you can adapt it to your own, Dark Lord.

Like static on a holocall the Rift suddenly went blank as the runes about it flared further. His focus deepened as it had to as he continued to pull on the echo he could feel. Then all at once the Rift reopened and focused. Only this time it wasn't on a waiting Dark Empire fleet. Instead, it was the waiting Alliance fleet. It was time to shift the battle completely.
 
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Her gaze glowed as they disappeared into the walls, the girl’s eyes reflecting any small amount of light they could gather to ensure Mahsa could see within the dark. Even from the back she could see the small little drones created by Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti as they hovered back and forth, gathering any and all traces of important bits and data to share with the Lovalla.

She really was an amazing one.

"Mahsa! With me!"
"Y-Yes, Master!"

Mahsa fell behind the Mirialan as Ran continued forwards, ignoring the path Zaiya and Cora had disappeared into. She could sense something thick and sickly in the air, unnatural like the energy Vera Noble Vera Noble and her had felt deep within the mines of Dorvalla... even the valor that Knight Ascania had infused them with wasn’t enough to stop the worry that gnawed deeply in her chest.

Please… keep them safe! A silent wish went out to the Force, imploring the Light to protect Zaiya, Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania , and Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble from whatever darkness Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos had left at the end of their path.

"The armored mercenary…" Knight Serys’ voice captured her attention once more, the smaller padawan doing well as she channeled the Force into her legs to keep up with the bigger Mirialan. She listened attentively as Ran shared her thoughts, nodding in understanding when required as they sped past numerous pipes and cables safely hidden between the walls of the station.

"Can we do that, Mahsa?"
"Absolutely, Master!"

There was no hesitation behind her voice and no doubt behind those golden irises as Mahsa responded back. They had a n important job to do just like Zaiya, Knight Ascania, and Master Noble—and the Kazelrrian would put everything she had into making sure they kept any unwanted intrusions from breaking into the bridge.

A pink glow burst to life shortly after Knight Serys ignited her own lightsaber, the padawan instinctively moving to the woman’s side as her own blade mirrored the Mirialan and began slicing through thick metal.


Apparel
Devices
Weapons
【✶】【✶】【✶】


Allies
Hostiles

 
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IMPERA

Glory to the Empire


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B A T T L E_F O R_B A L A N C E
Chapter II : Portal

DARK EMPIRE
TYTHON, DEEP CORE


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Within "Guardian-3" heavy firefights raged as the Imperial Defenders and Alliance Boarding Party engaged in a fierce firefight with Imperial Marine Storntroopers and SpecNav Commandos engaging in a vicious close-quarters combat with the GADF Marines intensifying their ambushes and continuing to make full use of the internal defense systems put in place in order to gain the upper hand in every single engagement. In addition to this, the bridge had finally made the decision to activate the Defense Platforms contingent of Dark Troopers who began to rush forth towards the frontlines within the platform to face the GADF Marines, guns blazing as they unleashed hellfire upon the enemy Marines with their Beskar armor providing them with significant protection against enemy retaliation.

Outside the "Guardian-3" the battle between the defending Imperial Fleet and the Alliance's 5th Fleet continued to intensify as the Imperials added more pressure upon the attacking fleet. Every Captain, Gunner, Pilot and Technician was dedicated to securing the victory of the Empire here today. They knew what the price of failure would be and how it would undo all the sacrifice their comrades had made in previous battles. In their eyes and minds, death was preferable to dishonor and they were ready to use whatever means necessary to defeat the Alliance here today even if it required resorting to desperate measures.

As soon as the 20 Squadrons of Strike Fighters and Interceptors emerged from hyperspace and quickly moved in to confront the TIE Brutes, the Escort Destroyers were quick to react with six of them deploying their entire compliment of TIE Brutes and TIE Destroyers with the newly deployed TIE Brutes moving in to support their fellow comrades against the newly arrived Strike Fighters and Interceptors while the TIE Destroyers moved in to attack the more vulnerable ships of the enemy fleet which began to take considerable damage from the retaliation of the defending Imperial Fleet. In particular they focused their attention on the three Liberator Carriers attacking the main contingent of five Star Destroyers unleashing powerful volleys of all sorts of missiles (Concussion, Seismic and Ion Pulse) in order to deal as much damage as possible and quickly diminished the Liberator Carrier's ability to further damage the Imperial Fleet.

While the Liberators attacked the five Star Destroyers, the Star Destroyers would begin immediately shifting their priority, now moving on to focus on the Liberator Carriers while TIE Destroyers continued their assault on the heavily damaged Marine Carriers now targeting their engines as they hoped to further reduce their mobility while four of the Escort Destroyers continued the previous assault from the five Star Destroyers in continuing the bombardment of the Liberator Carriers with each Marine Carrier being targeted by a pair of Escort Destroyers. So far the Star Destroyers were already starting to take considerable damage with two of them having already lost their shields as they engaged in a devastating exchange of firepower with the Liberators.

At the same time, the smaller group of one Star Destroyers and 2 Escort Destroyers that had split off from the main fleet to intercept a group of two Escort Cruisers and Torpedo Frigate continued their assault with the Star Destroyer taking moderate damage from the attack of the "Loki" Escort Cruiser although it's shields were still holding against the enemy attacks. With the Star Destroyer now distracted by the Escort Cruiser, the two other Escort Destroyers rushed to engage the Torpedo Frigate before it could reach it's intended destination hoping to take the Torpedo Frigate out as they began to open fire targeting the rear of the Frigate and intensifying power to their forward batteries in the hopes of overwhelming the Torpedo Frigate's shields and taking out it's Engines.

Meanwhile the dogfight that was occurring all around the Tython Orbital Station had devolved into a hot mess, as the pilots of the large amount of TIE Brutes and TIE Devastators had to contend with enemy fighters attacking them and intercepting enemy bombers and heavy attack craft that in turn were in the process of attacking both Imperial defense platforms and the fleet itself, with the Escorts and Interdictor starting to get targeted as many enemy fighters managed to slip through the TIEs inflicting damage on both the defensive platforms and Imperial warships. However at the same time they were managed to do the same against the enemy as they managed to unleash heavy fire upon enemy capital ships dealing considerable damage as the battle raged on.

The Battle over Tython was becoming more intense and brutal by the minute as even as the Empire pushed back applying heavy pressure upon the enemy, the Alliance fought back pushing forwards regardless of the odds. At this point both sides had taken heavy casualties, although that was what Warlord Sularen had exactly planned for as the Fleet defending the Tython Orbital Defense Station near the rift above Tython was not the only card the Warlord of the Empire had in store. As the Battle continued to intensify as the Imperial Defense Fleet and the 5th Fleet clashed now fiercely locked in battle, the Interdictors regardless of the damage they had taken so far proceeded to activate their gravity wells which was the signal the Empire needed to spring it's first trap : A Thrawn Pincer.


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Tags [Allies] | Max Sinn Max Sinn
Tags [Enemies] | Liram Angellus Liram Angellus

 
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RECLAIM TYTHON


Tython
ANS Mon Mothma

10th Sector Armada


Allies: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble | Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania | Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti | Pal Veda Pal Veda | Mahsa Mahsa | Ran Serys Ran Serys | Galactic Alliance
Opposition: Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Joseph Torson Joseph Torson | Tibera Jessen Tibera Jessen | Abraxas Colt Abraxas Colt | Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos


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"MA'AM!"

The voice tore through the collective silence of the bridge, every individual waiting with bated breath, hoping that the plan would work, hoping that the Jedi Strike Team could pull off what seemed to be the impossible. A soft smirk grew slowly, pulling at the edge of her mouth until it became a devilish grin as she slowly rose her head from her meditative stance. Her eyes slowly opened, revealing the vibrant, brilliant blue hue that showed the deep emotions that had taken hold and gripped tightly. It was time, the moment that they had been waiting for, and at that moment, she merely nodded silently in acknowledging of the accomplishment of the Jedi.

"Well done Master Jedi... Well Done..."

Amelia took a half-step forward, before she slowly turned to face the rest of the bridge crew, her eyes falling upon their faces each twisted in an amalgamation of worry, surprise, and fear. She smiled softly, a smile that was like a mother telling her children that everything would be okay as her left hand rose and pointed toward the shimmering portal that had opened before them. She pulled her right hand into a clenched fist, slamming it against the heavy breastplate of her armor.

"The Jedi have opened the way! Beyond is Tython! The Dark Empire took the Deep Core using this very portal and now... now! Now, it is our turn to use it against them."

She slowly turned toward the viewscreen, her attention leveling upon the portal as her smirk returned. Now was the moment for the Galactic Alliance to take its pound of flesh in retribution, to reclaim the ancient homeworld of the old Jedaii Order. Were it capable that sound could travel through the vacuum of space, one could easily say that the ANS Mon Mothma let out a deep, reverberating roar as it sprung to life, lurching forward as its engines flared and burned with the brilliance of a small Sun.

With its first movement, the others followed, the vast host of the 10th Sector Armada pushed forward, joining the charge toward the waiting portal. Each individual across every vessel knew their task, and each went about it with a renewed fervor as though their hearts had been replaced with fusion generators. Amelia nodded quietly toward the Communications Officer, opening a channel to the rest of the fleet.

"This is Supreme Commander Amelia von Sorenn, our Jedi allies have opened the way and now we will use the very thing that the Dark Empire utilized against us to strike into the Deep Core. I know of no place that I would rather be than to be fighting by your side. Let none of you forget how fierce you are, we are Raxshir! Do you know what's waiting beyond that Portal? Immortality! Take it! It's Yours!"

The behemoth of a warship pushed forward, forging its way through the portal and arriving on the other side with a mighty bellow, greeting the Dark Empire's Fleet with a salvo from its Heavy Agrocite Cannons. The vast Armada joined in short order, entering the fray and expanding the brawl as more and more of its warships plunged into the portal and appeared above Tython.

The Galactic Alliance had come...


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Tython
Objective II
Outfit:
x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x
Allies: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Ran Serys Ran Serys Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania Mahsa Mahsa | Anyone else
Enemies: Joseph Torson Joseph Torson Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos Tibera Jessen Tibera Jessen
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Zaiya pressed forward, her heart pounding with determination. She had to succeed in leading Kahlil and Cora to the bridge. Failure wasn't an option -- not again. But as they drew closer, the Force twisted around her in ways that felt utterly wrong. Unnatural.

She hadn't expected this -- the kind of corruption that made her stomach churn. Darth Immortuos had used the Force in a way that felt perverse, like it had infected life itself. A sickness that lingered in death. Nothing could've prepared her for the overwhelming stench that hit her like a wall -- the sharp, metallic scent of blood mixed with something rotten, something festering.

Zaiya froze as soon as she stepped through the jagged hole Knight von Ascania had blasted open. Her kyber crystal headpiece flared to life, bathing her in blinding light that was only dimmed by the shadowsilk lining of her hood. But her glowing skin -- the rosy golden hue that usually shimmered with her emotions -- drained of color, fading to a dull, sickly silver. Dark, inky streaks flecked with pale yellow horror crawled over her skin like creeping shadows.

What happened to them?

The question clawed at her mind, but there was no time to dwell on it. Cora's sharp cry snapped her back to reality. Zaiya's head jerked toward her just in time to see the flash of Cora's lightsaber slicing through the hand of an Imperial staggering towards her.

Kahlil's voice followed, steady and calm, but with an edge of concern. He mentioned something was wrong with the Force, how it felt distant. Had it been the battle below? Zaiya didn't know. She only knew that when his deep voice commanded her to give him her hand, she obeyed without hesitation.

His touch was firm but gentle, and Zaiya watched, wide-eyed, as Kahlil inscribed a rune on her skin using the Force. She'd heard Aris talk about his father using runes before, but seeing it in action felt… surreal.

In that moment, Zaiya saw the resemblance between Kahlil and Aris Noble Aris Noble so clearly. It was like looking at a future version of her friend, the way the Force wrapped around him, the way his presence radiated strength. But no… Aris wasn't Kahlil. He never would be.

He wasn't her Aris.

The rune flared with light, and Zaiya inhaled sharply. She felt it immediately -- the weight of fear and doubt began to lift, replaced by a calm resolve. Her skin slowly regained its warm, rosy glow.

"Yes, Master," she nodded, her voice steady, her gaze snapping toward the bridge. But her relief was short-lived as the twisted, undead crew began to move -- jerking, staggering. Their dark, lifeless eyes locked onto them, and from their gaping mouths came a bone-chilling wail.

Zaiya's breath hitched. Were they still alive? Could they be saved? She didn't want to hurt them if there was any chance… No, she couldn't think like that. They had to be stopped. But maybe she could do it without killing them. That was who Zaiya was -- she wouldn't abandon that part of herself.

The infected crew lunged toward her, their movements unnatural, broken. Zaiya reached for the Force, pulling it to her like a rushing current. She sent out a burst of telekinesis, aiming to knock them back against the bulkhead and the terminals -- hoping to pin them down without causing more harm. The trio was thrown back, colliding into the others stumbling behind them.

Her hand flew to her belt, and in a flash, she tossed two stun pearls toward the group. The spheres detonated with a bright flash, a concussive wave expanding through the air. The effects of the Stun Perl can render most organics within the blast radius unconscious, provided they are not wearing proper protection. If it worked, the effects would persist for several hours, after which they will wear off and those affected will regain use of their limbs and return to consciousness.

Zaiya braced herself, her heart racing.

Would stunning them even work?

There was only one way to find out.

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Tibera couldn't tell, but the closer she got to the bridge, the closer she was to rot and death. Her men had been waiting for her in a hallway, and they all looked particularly glad to see her. Seems they'd changed their tune from earlier. No time to gloat though, they had Jedi to hunt! Tibera would command her squad to take point, and head towards the point where the main Jedi force was headed, the turbolift shaft.

However, she stopped her feet when she heard the sound of metal being melted into slag not but a hallway over. "Great, rats with lightsabers! Mones! Skarz! Grenade launchers to the front!" The two troopers loaded their underbarrel grenade launchers and took aim. The minute the were loaded, the took aim at the area of wall being cut through. The wall was probably just thick enough to make for good shrapnel!

"Steady... Steady... and... FIRE!" Tib was waiting for just the right moment to fire those explosive projectiles. If the Jedi could see them coming, they'd just toss them back. So the plan was to blow up the wall while they were cutting into it, making their cover a weapon to use against them.

A thing the mercenary didn't understand was the workings of the force, the fact that it guided the Jedi, and that someone like Ran could sense even minor perturbations in her surroundings. It would remain to be seen if the force could predict the high explosive death flying towards her and Mahsa. The latter of whom was quite the interesting specimen. An empath who could read the feelings and emotions of those around her.

TIbera, for various reasons, was a beacon to someone like that. The pain and trauma she hid under the surface was like a firework to the padawan. Besides the obvious feeling of sadness and anger, there was a pang of guilt deep inside the armored woman. She felt guilty for the loss of her comrades on past missions, and questioned why she yet lived while so many close to her had fell. All of this told Mahsa that Tibera was near far before she saw the white-clad mercenary.

How all of these factors would effect the coming fight were a huge question mark. Could the tactics of the troopers overcome the natural advantages of the Jedi? Or would their force powers and lightsaber skills be too much even for highly trained veterans? The die was now cast, and the smoke was still settling, time seemed to stand still forever waiting for the aftermath of the explosions.

"Keep those slugthrowers loaded! We don't know if we got them yet..."

Friendlies Tag: Joseph Torson Joseph Torson Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos Abraxas Colt Abraxas Colt
Enemies Tag: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti Ran Serys Ran Serys Mahsa Mahsa
 

The Jedi had made it to the bridge.

The infected crew lunged toward her, their movements unnatural, broken. Zaiya reached for the Force, pulling it to her like a rushing current. She sent out a burst of telekinesis, aiming to knock them back against the bulkhead and the terminals -- hoping to pin them down without causing more harm. The trio was thrown back, colliding into the others stumbling behind them.

Her hand flew to her belt, and in a flash, she tossed two stun pearls toward the group. The spheres detonated with a bright flash, a concussive wave expanding through the air. The effects of the Stun Perl can render most organics within the blast radius unconscious, provided they are not wearing proper protection. If it worked, the effects would persist for several hours, after which they will wear off and those affected will regain use of their limbs and return to consciousness.

Zaiya braced herself, her heart racing.

Would stunning them even work?

There was only one way to find out.

The infected crew hit the bulkhead with sickening thuds, their bodies folding in grotesque angles that would have broken bones or shattered spines in any normal being. But these were not normal beings anymore. Zaiya's telekinetic burst left them sprawled across the terminals and durasteel floor, their limbs twitching, heads lolling unnaturally.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the stun pearls detonated, filling the air with a blinding light and a sharp, concussive force. The blast hit the infected full force, rippling through the chamber with the unmistakable hum of technology designed to incapacitate. But instead of the collapse she may of hoped for, they screamed. It was an inhuman sound, high-pitched, oscillating in unison. Their mouths opened impossibly wide, sharp black teeth gleaming in the strobe of fading light. The sound seemed to rip through the air like a siren—calling. It was not just a scream of pain or rage. It was something far more chilling, like a beacon meant to summon, to reach out across the void, as if they were not just mindless husks but part of something larger.

Ah, I hear you my children.

Their bodies shook violently, writhing on the ground, but none fell unconscious. The pearls should have taken them out—left them limp and vulnerable. Instead, their eyes, flatly dead and evermore hungry, They flickered with a perverse intelligence. A renewed interest for the Jedi before them. A interest that was expressed in the sudden speed and strength of their attempted charge!

"Here we go," she murmured. "There's something unnatural on the other side."

Cora thrust her hand upward and released the blast of energy that had been building it her palm. It punched through the doors, denting them severely and blowing one from its hinge. Leaping from the opening, her fingers clenched again as an invisible force tore the door from its remaining hinge, levitating it to block anticipatory fire.

The bridge had the thick, sickly scent of rotting meat. Husks of men and women – or their corpses, rather – clad in Imperial uniforms made for an unnerving sight.

"Don't let them touch you! We don't know what they are."

Cora's face pulled into a grimace as she activated her lightsaber, severing the hand of a walking cadaver as he reached for his his blaster.

"How uncouth."

More of the the infected crew lurched to life with grotesque, jerking motions, as if the decayed sinews controlling their limbs were no longer their own. Their dead, hollow eyes snapped toward Cora the moment her blow was struck. The severed hand that had once reached for a blaster twitched violently on the ground, even as its former owner made no sound of pain—just a sickening rasp, like air forcing itself through a throat long devoid of life.

And then, He screamed.

And they screamed!

The sound was like nothing that should have come from human throats. It was high-pitched, oscillating, yet guttural and primal—unnatural in its harmony with the trio attacking the other female Jedi Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti , as if they were all bound by some unseen bond compelling them to respond. Their mouths stretched wide, impossibly wide, as the chorus echoed through the bridge, rattling the very air around them. Like the screams from the other group, it was a plea to something dark and ancient that waited in the shadows.

I am almost there. I feel what you feel..

The cadaver whose hand Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania had severed made no attempt to retrieve his weapon. Instead, he staggered toward her, his remaining fingers twisted into a claw, reaching, grasping—his face slack yet eerily intent, driven by the singular need to touch her! To infect! To spread! The others followed, bodies moving with disturbing speed despite their unnatural angles and grotesque appearances, heads jerking and snapping with each step.

He stepped past them, towards the center of the room. The runes along his skin continued their glow, preventing the mindless undead from approaching. They couldn't. The Light he held burned too bright. He took another deep breath as he settled into a seated position, letting his eyes close as he pulled on the echo of the Force he still felt. As he pulled on the Force through the Dyad, through Tython below.

The infected officers adjacent, stilled in Kahlil's presence, their twisted, decayed forms halting mid-motion. Their eyes—flat, dead, and unblinking—remained fixated on him, yet something else flickered behind those lifeless sockets. As the runes along his skin glowed brighter, their charred, blackened faces seemed almost... calm. Patient. There was no frantic scramble, no gnashing of teeth or grasping hands. They simply watched, gathering in closer, their eerie, shovel wide smiles creeping up and splitting their cheeks. Eyes filled with a strange anticipation.

But why had they stopped?

Was it the Light, burning too brightly for them to dare cross? Or was it something else entirely? A deeper, more unsettling thought seeped in. Could they not move against him, or was it that they would not? Perhaps they knew something he didn't.

" By all means, Please continue." The Overlord of the Sickness finally spoke.

His presence suddenly flooding the room, warping the air with its wrongness. The Living Force itself screamed in silent agony, rippling through the station, The same as before, a call of wrong, wrong, this is wrong. Immortuos' sunken red eyes settled on Kahlil as he stepped out of the shadows, gleaming with something far worse than hatred—satisfaction. As if the game had reached a pivotal moment, and the pieces had all fallen into place.

He wanted them to have the portal...
 


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Theme: Thunderstruck
Allies: Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | IMPERA IMPERA
Enemies: Liram Angellus Liram Angellus | Amelia von Sorenn Amelia von Sorenn




Deadly Sinn - Admiral Sinn
Divinity - Vice Admiral Kelser
Dredge - Rear Admiral Daws
x10 Caçadore-Class Assault Corvette
x4 Vandal-class Corvette
x4 TXS IPLT-01x 'Excursor' Star Sloop
x8 Vanto-class Escort Carrier
x4 Phaetra-class Star Carrier
x2 The Dragoon-Class Escort Frigate
3000+ star fighters in total.
(If this seems to be to much please dm me it was made on the fly)

Max looked up to see the countdown counter begin to count down as the signal was sent to commence their operations. Her eyes pained down as she looked across bridge of her newly christened ship the Deadly Sinn. She watched as her crew hustled across the bridge in preparation for the jump. She stood with her arms behind her well postured back in her black and gold uniform of the Tetan Navy. It was good to be back on board a more modernized ship once again, for many years now her and the men under her command had been using what ever they could get their hands on.

Though she wasn't exactly sure about this new soon to be alliance with the Dark Empire, considering the last time the Dark Empire screwed them over. Promises made only to be stabbed in the back, all the leg work her and her fellow Krath were putting in to try pull the remnants of the Maw back together stolen out from under them and then hung out to dry when the Galactic Alliance came calling. Scapegoats is all the Krath was for the former leadership of the Dark Empire.

Though under the returned Empresses command they were once again embarking on this diplomatic clusterfrak. How Max hated diplomacy, she would rather just blow chit up and let bureaucrats deal with the cleanup. She braced herself as the hyperspace window opened and they were pulled through jumping out of the Tetan System. The Deep core was notoriously hard to navigate, held together by s-threads just mechanical duct tape at best so your ships weren't instantly ripped apart.



They jumped into the system at pinpoint accuracy thanks to the Tython defense fleet giving them the exact coordinates. Right behind the alliance fleet pinning them between the Tetan fleet and the Empires defense fleet. Comm's were up and and Max was connected to all the ships, a screen dropped from the ceiling of the bridge down in front of her so she could see various telemetry data from the fleet and various stations onboard her own ship.

"Open fire with all missiles and torpedo's target the biggest first, take out their big guns. Then launch fighters as we move in for turbolaser batteries." The order commissioned across the board to the fleet. Sirens and alarms buzzed across all the ships; fighter pilots strapped themselves in ready for the ride ahead. Then the missile barrage started volley of concussion missiles, followed by a volley of meg-pulse missiles, followed up again with a third volley of concussion missiles. Soften up, slow down their weapons systems, heavy hits.

After the first three volleys the star fighters started to zip out of the carriers and start destroyers, their commands issued to them on the fly as the sensors sought out targets. The biggest on sensors a contingent of 20+ squadrons Alliance fighters. The drone squadrons leading the charge as the commands were sent to them followed by the swarm fighter squadrons and followed up the tie defenders. Drones and Defenders following the traditional V formation. The swarms how ever flew in staggered wild patterns, their squadrons often mixing into one another and crossing each other, it looked like a chaotic swarm.

The fleet began to inch forward after preparing to get into turbolaser range as they fired a fourth volley of missiles, these ones aimed at the 10[SUP]th[/SUP] sector armada's battle dragons. Mostly out of spite because Max hated Hapan's then again for Max if you weren't pure human, she probably didn't like you much.


Missiles Launched - First volley Concussion Missile, second volley Meg Pulse, Third volley Concussion Missile going for The Avalon and ANS Mon Mothma
Launching Fighters - First the 5 squadrons of TIE/DF Drone, Then 10 squadrons of Darkshear-class Swarm Fighters, Followed by 10 squadrons of TIE/HF Slasher.
Fighters are to engage with @@Liram Angellus squadrons that had jumped into the system.
Several squadrons left in reserve.
Fleet is moving closer for turbolaser range and to pin the alliance fleet in tighter.
Another Volley launched of Concussion Missile at the Hapan battle dragons as the fleet moves in.



 


As the smell of superheated metal touched her senses, so did the presence of danger beyond the wall. The moment had come for The Jedi and the Mercenary to meet. As Ran and Mahsa attempted to carve their path into the hallway, the dark forces beyond volleyed grenades that severed the circle from the wall once and for all. Her Jedi senses kept Ran alert and alive. When the circle of steel flew into the shaft, Ran was not behind it. She was not crushed under its weight. Instead the steel circle smashed pipes, cut and melted cables, and twisted metal girders.

Ran did not leap into action in the wake of the explosion. Instead she deactivated her lightsaber and reached out to the force. She nudged Mahsa telepathically with feelings of calm and patience, and a psychic impression that seemed to say follow my lead. Smashed pipes leaked semi-toxic gasses, smoke, and steam of systems that operated far beyond Ran's scope of knowledge into the shaft. Ran manipulated the merging gas cloud with the force. It pumped into the hallway quickly. The cloud's color was thick and dull. The mixture was hot and made sweat bead on the skin of anyone it touched. It was almost suffocating. Trooper helmets would filter out toxicity, but they would struggle to see even a foot in front of themselves as the gas became thicker and more concentrated. The gas continued to pump into the corridor and proved the perfect cover.

Ran disappeared into it. Like a bat to sonar, Ran was to the force. She didn't need her toxic yellow eyes to see, to maneuver around the troopers, to stalk, to skulk, to strike. So she made her way through the corridor like a predator. One by one. She was upon each trooper before they knew what was going on. The only sound that resonated in the brief scuffles was the jingling of Ran's jewelry that quickly faded to silence again and again. Some attempted to use the sound to locate her, other's used it as a clock counting the moments until it was their turn to meet the green hunter.

As Ran felt the mercenary nearby, she wondered what camp she fell into. There was only one way to find out. So Ran skulked, approaching the armored leader from behind. She would choke her and make her mind fade to black, a knockout that would spare her life. Something told Ran it would not be so easy.


 
That light at the end of the tunnel leads to Hell

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5th Reactionary Fleet
For anyone that wants to read it, The Angellus family history to this point Is here.
Angellus
Ewan Isaacs - CAG/SCAR Teams CO
LCaptain Halpern "Celestial City CO"
Captain Zev Tantor "Silver City" CO
Captain Rojuh Pouil "Valhalla" CO
Captain Scott Pouil - Flight Director 5th Fleet
Chief Gribbs - NCOIC 5th Fleet.
S.E.R.A.P.H.I.M. - 5th Fleet A.I.

[ANY COMMUNICATIONS INSIDE THESE BRACKETS ARE THE RESULT OF COMMS COMMUNICATION]

Code:
SECTOR: Tython
ORDERS: Retake the Planet and the system.
WINGMATES: Amelia von Sorenn Amelia von Sorenn , Magdalena Bloodscrawl Magdalena Bloodscrawl
ENGAGING: IMPERA IMPERA , Max Sinn Max Sinn , Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen



Objective II — Portal​


Admiral Liram Angellus stood on the bridge of his flagship, gazing out at the swirling chaos of battle beyond the viewport. His heart raced as he observed the swirling void of space, illuminated by the vivid flashes of energy discharges and the fiery trails of missile fire. Even years of experience wouldn't prepare him for the fear looming in the face of impending doom.
“Admiral,” his chief tactical officer, Commander Serin Voss, spoke up, breaking his reverie. “The gravity wells of their Interdictors have come online. We’re trapped.”

“What’s the status of our fleet?” Angellus demanded, his voice unwavering despite the trepidation seeping into every fiber of his being.

“Surrounded, Sir. They’re already forming a pincer. It’s a classic Thrawn maneuver, and we’ve walked right into it.” Voss’s voice was strained as he calculated their increasingly dire predicament.

“Then we give them a hell of a fight.” Liram’s eyes gleamed with fierce resolve. “Rally the fleet. Prepare all squadrons for a counterattack. We will not go down without a fight. For the Alliance!”

The officers on the bridge, despite their anxiety, cheered, inspiration rekindling within them. None wished to be remembered for failing to defend their cause.



Imperial officers scrambled to initiate the barrage, and the space around Tython erupted as turbolasers exploded with deadly precision. Imperial starfighters - TIE Brutes and TIE Destroyers - swarmed, targeting the vulnerable Alliance ships with surgical efficiency. Believing that the so-called defenders of freedom were nothing more than rabid dogs, and it’s time to unleash the hunting wolves.



Back on the Celestial City, Angellus watched as chaos erupted across the battlefield. The once vibrant formation of the Alliance fleet started to fracture under the initial assault. The engaging Imperial forces ripped into their ranks, and in those first moments of destruction, it felt as though hope was slipping away.

“Sir,” Voss called out, panic evident in his voice. “There are too many! Reports are coming in from our front lines—casualties mounting!”

Liram took a deep breath, reining in his own panic. He was not simply a leader; he was the linchpin. The Alliance depended on him to stand resolute, to act when all seemed lost.

“Trust our pilots. They have faced the Empire before. They know how to fight.” But even as he uttered those words, doubt flickered in the back of his mind like a dying star.

Then came the message: “Admiral, we have control of the portal.”

His heart surged with renewed hope. “Prepare all squadrons for a counterattack! Our window is small, but we must wrest control back!”



With fresh determination surging through the fleet, Alliance pilots launched their attack. The space around Tython ignited with fervor—blaster fire whizzed and flared as TIE fighters engaged in uneven dogfights, painting the universe in burning hues of destruction.

Lieutenant Aris Talos, a hotshot pilot with dreams of glory, soared through the tangled ballet of war. She danced among Imperial ships, shooting down a TIE Destroyer as she maneuvered. The exhilaration of that kill shot filled her with adrenaline.

“For the Alliance!” she cried into her comm, but in her heart, fear gnawed at her resolve.

On another part of the battlefield, Commander Rykor, another ace pilot, struggled with overwhelming anxiety as his squadron faced heavy fire. His hands trembled on the controls, but he remembered Angellus's words. They’d all served together long enough; they had to protect each other.

“Stay together, squadron! Watch your six!” Rykor barked, stealing a week of courage from the fires of his comrades.
Slowly, the tide began to turn. Alliance fighters, emboldened by a glimmer of victory, surged forward, their courage shining as bright as their blasters.



The Imperial Forces no doubt sensed the shift as well. Surging like a tidal wave, unleashing sheer devastation upon the Alliance. Explosions erupted around Angellus, his screens filled with alerts and screams of the dying. More Imperial ships had dropped out of hyperspace. He had been played like an idiot and he knew it. All data pointed to even more showing up.
As he barked commands to reinforce the flanks, a sudden blare screamed across the comms—a warning of an incoming missile. He barely managed to dive to the side as the blast reverberated throughout the bridge. The klaxons wailed, sending soldiers scrambling.

Amid this chaos, Admiral Angellus stood firm and hit the fleet wide comm channel. “All hands, this is Admiral Angellus. I signed up for this fight, you did not. If you wish to retreat, and fall back to a safe position, do so. Your retreat will be covered.“ Then speaking to those on the bridge. “That goes for each of you as well. Get to your escape pods. There’s no shame.” He gave it a moment and no one moved, none of them.

“Sir!” Shouted one of the tactical officers. “I can safely think I speak for everyone when I say “We’ve been with you since the beginning! We’re with you to the end! Regardless of what that is.”

Captain Halpern himself said “You’ve gotten my butt out of trouble more times than I want to count. I’m not going anywhere, and no one under my command is either.” He was hitting the “all call” button as well, and all of the other Captains chimed in, in full agreement.

“This day is not over! Rally the left flank—show them our resilience! Give those ships aligning (Plague Destroyers) aligning themselves with us a chance to do their thing!” His voice cut through the noise, rallying his men as they turned to face the encroaching darkness of the Empire. If they could stand for him, he was damn sure going to make himself worthy of it.

In the heart of the battle, Angellus spotted a glimmer of hope as the Alliance began to regroup, mounting a significant resistance. Pilots who once felt overwhelmed started achieving impossible victories. Interceptors that were being overwhelmed by incoming TIEs shifted focus, X-wings that were simply outnumbered were showing what the phrase "buzzsaw" really means. If the Imperials would still come out winning this, it would indeed be costly for them.

With each swoop of the wings and every shot fired, the tide shifted more favorably for the Alliance. But in the eye of their newfound storm, Angellus understood that this came at a cost.

The Marines were making little headway but they were holding position, and their own focus shifted with what looked to be... "Clone Troopers"? Fighting with them? They were holding position because...

"It's been an honor, Admiral!" The last words spoken from the Captain of the Avalon as the coolant leak could not be stopped and the reactor overloaded sending shockwaves in all directions, but primarily "Invictus 3" and "Invictus 1".

Every ship that succumbed to the darkness resonated in his heart—every lost life was a reminder of the stakes at play. They were in a battle not just for Tython but for the very soul of the galaxy.

All the while, the battle continued to rage on, blazes illuminated by bright streaks of energy. The backdrop of Tython, with its rich history and ancient temples, became witness to the defining struggle of a new age.

As the dust settled, both sides battered but none willing to retreat, Liram Angellus knew that while the fight was not yet over, today’s clash would ripple through the galaxy and be a signal of defiance. They would rise or fall together. No one could ever claim false victory.

And all around them, the fight for tomorrow loomed in restless silence.




To be continued…
 
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Together they were making quick work of the obstacle before them, until the faint sound of rushing footsteps echoed within their unconventional path. "M-Master…!" A sense of dread washed over her as a silent warning was delivered by the Force, and one look at the Mirialan validated the emotion.

She had jumped away a second after Knight Serys, standing on the opposite side of the circle they’d carved before the explosion blew it back onto the pipes and wires across from it. A deep breath was taken just as the fumes began to spread, before she felt Ran’s consciousness gently nudge her own.

Golden eyes peered with a sense of fascination as Knight Serys elegantly gathered the toxic cloud and filtered it through their makeshift opening, allowing the fumes to disperse and cover the hallway they intended to guard. She used that precious time to pop out a singular purple pellet from her creation bangle as the padawan crouched in search of a better view before the smog finally blocked everything out.

Hurrikaine crystals were known for their ability to penetrated thick defenses, and this ability was easily passed onto the small marble snugly set against the wrist energy slingshot. She sought the aid of the Force in trying to pinpoint possible targets, using the visible legs from the troops amidst the smoke to increase her accuracy, before a singular purple shot flashed through the fumes. The sound of something breaking confirmed it had hit something, though it was hard to tell if it had been one of their opponents or something else entirely.

And suddenly Knight Serys was gone.

It took a moment before Mahsa finally figured out where Ran had gone, her movements clean and unrestricted despite the smog that blinded the hallway. Awe flashed through her as Mahsa realized how the Knight was pulling this feat, opening her mind to new possibilities the younger padawan still hadn’t figured out on her lonesome. Her hand wrapped firmly around the hilt of her dagger, before the guttural cacophony of muffled screams carried over from the other side of the closed doors leading into the bridge.

Unnatural as they were, the screams had been nothing compared to the sickening waves that rippled through the Force—halting Mahsa’s movements as the padawan was forced to brace against the wall for support. The Force wailed as Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos ripped his way through it, and even the calming properties of the kasha medallion attuned to her wave weren’t enough to protect her this time around.

Whatever little she’d managed to stomach before the mission finally made its presence known as it was wretched into the hidden parts behind the hallways. A small blessing was found when the acidic aftertaste that lingered in her mouth helped ground the Kazelrrian, her mind pushing against the thick miasma that threatened to cloud her senses and judgment.

They’re alright… you have to focus! Worry had resurfaced as she thought of Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti on the other side of those thick doors, before Mahsa forced herself to remember the Lovalla wasn’t alone—she had Knight Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania and Master Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble with her.

A renewed sense of determination enabled the padawan to finally move as she joined the fray, eyes closed to avoid the sting from the fumes as she relied on sound and her own attunement to the Force. It was crudely done compared to Knight Serys, unrefined and mostly guided by her own instincts, but she was determined to not drag the Mirialan with her own dead weight.

Knowing how tall Ran was Mahsa chose to remain lower to the ground, seeking to avoid any accidental swipe at the Knight as she focused instead on hindering the nearest troops to her. She could sense their frantic movements as they tried to get a bead on the force of nature that was Ran as she sliced through them, before the sharp blade of her knife finally struck as she felt a shift in the Force.

The phrik blade sank between the joints of the armor, finding little resistance as it reached deep into the back part of the knee of an unfortunate man. Once flesh and muscles had been sliced it was quickly retrieved, the padawan gone as she used the fumes to her advantage and sought her next target.


Apparel
Devices
Weapons
【✶】【✶】【✶】


Allies
Hostiles

 
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Allies: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti Ran Serys Ran Serys Mahsa Mahsa Pal Veda Pal Veda
Enemies: Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos Joseph Torson Joseph Torson Tibera Jessen Tibera Jessen Abraxas Colt Abraxas Colt

Cora's brow knit. Had the Jedi Master been struck by fire or steel, or something else? In the chaos of close-quarters combat, it was difficult to grasp every little thing. Years of experience, far beyond what she knew, would be his guide here.

Runes inked across Kahlil's skin, and he shared one with Zaiya, imparting what she imagined to be a protective measure of Light unto the Padawan.

"I trust you two can handle this?"

Cora smiled, a surprisingly gentle expression in stark contrast with their harsh surroundings. "Ashla guides us," she affirmed, nodding to Zaiya and watching as the muted tones of her skin bloomed into something warm and steady. She was a creative, capable girl.

While Kahlil found himself in meditation, the knight's focus snapped back to the shambling undead. They moved like marionettes, limbs trembling and jerking in unnatural ways. Could they feel pain? Anger? Were they suffering? Could they feel, at all?

The infected crewman let out a rattling gasp, a preamble before erupting into a violent screech. His brethren joined in, creating and unnatural, unholy chorus. Hauntingly inhuman shrieks layered atop one another, and Cora grimaced as their cries seemed to reverberate both into her bones, and past her.

It was the sound of the damned. The ill, those infected with something so perverse that it twisted whatever they'd been into something so grotesquely surreal. Undeterred by the loss of his hand, the cadaver she'd struck staggered closer, clawing towards her. The others followed suit, moving quicker than their dull appearance suggested.

They cannot be saved. Ashla guide me.

Cora's back faced the entrance of the maintenance shaft. She sidestepped the crewman just as she'd come into the range of his reach, a little telekinetic push to his back sending him down the vertical passage.

She whipped around, lightsaber cutting quick, sharp lines into the undead as they approached. One across the neck, then at the socket of each arm. Blue plasma bisected the abdomen of another, the sound of meat sliding against meat creating a sickening thud as his torso hit the floor.

I ask not for forgiveness.

A pale, clammy hand grasped the edge of her sleeve and dragged her closer. Hollow eyes bore into her own as she gazed into the abysmal face of the Sickness. Unsure if their ick could be spread through cloth, she sheared the flowing fabric of her sleeve and leaped back, boots landing atop the console.

Behind her, the rift flickered and distorted until changing hands. Alliance fleets surged through as fighters streaked around them, igniting the inky void of space around the station in gunfire.

Her snapped toward the door she'd wrenched from its hinges, sending it spinning towards the pair of undead who clawed at her on her perch. Sharp edges pierced rotting flesh and allowed her an opening, lightsaber making quick work of their grasping hands.

Only for these wretched souls to rest.

A harsh exhale pass through her lips and she tapped the commlink in her ear, hoping to reach Ran Serys Ran Serys and Mahsa Mahsa to deliver a quick message. If she could not fight alongside them, she could at least deliver a snippet of good news for their spirits.

"We have the portal."

The Dark presence they'd felt earlier made itself known; a tall, skeletal figure, with a face that looked as though aged leather had been stretched over bone, too tightly yet too loose at the same time. A point of tension vibrated in the Force as Light clashed against Dark. Undoubtedly, this was the source of the corpse legion.

And it seemed as though Master Noble had a captive audience.

Cora's hand fell away from the commlink in her ear and reached out, extending her touch toward Kahlil. As shimmering bubble wrapped around the Epicanthix as he worked.
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Tython
Objective II
Outfit:
x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x
Allies: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Ran Serys Ran Serys Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania Mahsa Mahsa | Anyone else
Enemies: Joseph Torson Joseph Torson Tibera Jessen Tibera Jessen Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos
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-


Zaiya's breath caught as the bodies slammed into the wall, but they didn't stay down. The stun pearls had failed. The infected writhed violently, their movements unnatural, jerking like marionettes under invisible strings. But they didn't fall unconscious. Their eyes -- blank, dead things -- flickered with a twisted, unnatural intelligence. And then they moved. Faster. Stronger. As if the mere act of the Padawan had awakened something deep inside them, something ravenous.

And they screamed.

Oh stars no.... it didn't work!

It was a sound so primal and wrong, it felt like it reached into Zaiya's bones, rattling them from the inside out. The scream echoed through the bridge, a twisted harmony that made Zaiya's skin crawl.

If it weren't for the kyber crystal glowing in her hair and the rune Kahlil had etched onto her, she would've collapsed right then and there. The way the Force twisted around them was nauseating, suffocating, but the crystal and the rune's light held it at bay -- barely.

In the corner of her vision, Zaiya saw Cora slashing at the undead with her lightsaber, fending them off as they lunged at her with unnatural speed and ferocity.

She had to do something.

Drawing from Cora's earlier tactics, Zaiya reached out with the Force. Her hand shot toward a nearby bulkhead panel, and with a sharp yank, it tore free, metal groaning as rivets popped loose and scattered across the floor. She swung it up between her and the trio of infected charging toward her, using it like a shield to keep them at bay.

"Stay back!" she grunted, pouring her strength into the Force as she shot them back, sending them crashing into the far wall once again. But this time, she wasn't just trying to throw them off balance. Zaiya clenched her fingers, focusing hard as she twisted the panel, forcing the metal to bend and warp around the infected, hoping to bind them in place.

For a moment, it worked. The metal curled and wrapped around them, pinning their twisted forms against the wall. But Zaiya barely had time to feel relief. Her gaze snapped to the Sith that suddenly appeared with that nauseaing wave of unnaturalness, standing off to the side, watching everything unfold with a smug, sickening satisfaction. He hadn't even lifted a hand yet, just stood there, like he was waiting for something.

Zaiya's stomach twisted. This wasn't like any Sith she'd faced before. He was calm, calculated... in control. It unnerved her as much as the wrongness from which he twisted the Force to appera before them.

There wasn't time to dwell on it, though. Zaiya saw more undead turning toward Kahlil, their dead eyes fixed on him. Cora had created a bubble of protection around Kahlil, focusing every bit of her energy on it, but Zaiya knew it required intense concentration. If she got distracted, if one of those infected managed to break through, it would all fall apart.

Zaiya moved before she could think twice, rushing to Cora's side. She wouldn't let anything happen to her. Not while she was concentrating. Zaiya raised her hands, summoning the Force to her once more, and created her own shield -- glimmering blue, wrapping around both Jedi like a protective cocoon.

"I've got you," she muttered, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. She locked her focus on the shield, willing it to stay strong, even as she saw another surge the infected come at them, crashing against the shield only to pound against it, their wails echoing through the bridge.

Zaiya knew she couldn't hold it forever. But for now, they had a chance. And she wasn't going to let them down.
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Objective: Steal The Portal
Tags: Pal Veda Pal Veda | Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania | Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti | Mahsa Mahsa | Ran Serys Ran Serys | Joseph Torson Joseph Torson | Tibera Jessen Tibera Jessen | Abraxas Colt Abraxas Colt | Darth Immortuos Darth Immortuos

The Force was muted. An echo of what he usually felt, but now he'd started to realize just what was happening. From before, one of the grenades. A gas he hadn't bothered to think about. His runes filtered out poison of all kinds when needed. This wasn't just a poison, though. They had ways to gasify something like void stone, was it? He'd have to look more into that later.

Right now, though, he couldn't even move. His focus was on the portal, keeping it focused on the Alliance fleet. Settling it down to be tied properly to the new anchor. In that same vein, purging the problem from his veins. The Force around him felt wrong and violated. The Sith Lord was there, then? His brow knitted together, but he couldn't pull his focus away any more than he already had.

Rather, he wouldn't. Cora and Zaiya would be able to handle this long enough for him to be able to help in turn. He could already feel safety around his own form. A bubble, perhaps? His expression softened to a smile, despite all the death around them. They had this. He'd be able to back them up soon enough.
 


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B A T T L E_F O R_B A L A N C E
Chapter II : Portal

DARK EMPIRE
TYTHON, DEEP CORE

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After a few minutes, Torson and his team finally reached the closet available turbo lift utilizing it where they made it to the next level, the same level in which the bridge was situated in. By now the Special Forces operative was certain that the Jedi had reached the bridge but hoped that there might still be a slight chance that the Empire was still in control of the situation here. Thus, Torson and his men began to sprint moving down the hallway as they approached the bridge in order to rejoin the battle in the area. As they approached the bridge Torson gripped his Beam Rifle ready to confront the Jedi once more.

As one of the doors opened leading into the final stretch of the corridor leading into the bridge, Torson and his men found themselves in front of a ongoing struggle between Jessen's men and a pair of Jedi. Already one of the Jedi ( Ran Serys Ran Serys ) had attacked Jessen from behind and was apparently trying to choke her out, while the other Jedi ( Mahsa Mahsa ) was busy fighting the other troops. Noting that that very Jedi was the same one who had blocked a shot from his beam rifle earlier, Torson switched from the Beam Rifle to a Combat Shotgun and with the Ysalamiri Cradle still on him he began to approach the Jedi as his men provided cover fire, with their Rail Submachine Guns pinning down the Jedi with suppressive fire as Torson closed the distance.

Once Torson was close enough, he took aim and began to fire at the Jedi with his shotgun, firing shots comprised of dozens of high velocity slugs in every direction towards the Jedi as he continued to walk slowly towards her firing more rounds as he sought to overwhelm her with the sheer amount of slugs his shotgun would fire with each shot.


 
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Location: Tython Space Station, The Bridge
Foes: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Mahsa Mahsa Ran Serys Ran Serys Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti
Allies-ish: Tibera Jessen Tibera Jessen Joseph Torson Joseph Torson IMPERA IMPERA
Equipment: In sig


Darth Immortuos inhaled deeply, savoring the palpable tension in the room. Look how they struggle...a mere fraction of my power. His gaze swept over the room at the two female jedi and their misdirected use of their own force reserves. Then the Dark Lords gaze locked on Kahlil, but his focus had already shifted elsewhere—to the portal under the Jedi's control. In his minds eye, the faint threads of energy radiating from it called to him like a beacon, rich and ripe for use for his will. He smiled darkly, lips parting in a grotesque grin as he extended his fingers, palms facing outward toward the unseen forces, he raised his arms and spread his fingers. Not toward the barrier around the Jedi master or even attempting to confront him, but somewhere in the middle.

Between the physical and metaphysical.

The room darkened.

The infected crew, still standing in the eerie glow of the Jedi's power, began to shudder, their once-mindless gazes shifting toward the Sith Lord with a perverse reverence. They, too, could feel the change—could sense what Immortuos was going to do. Their movements became slow, deliberate, as if some invisible hand was tugging at them. One by one, they started to retreat, stepping backward in slow, jerking motions, always keeping their eyes fixed on the miniature rift that was beginning to form behind their master.

"Yess...." Immortuos's voice was like rust scraping against metal, low and grating, each word dripping with malice. "Your Light is too bright..." His words like venom steeped in sarcasm.

His power stretched outward. Past the confines of the bridge and into the void of space. A intangible grasping hand.

The Living Force trembled as Immortuos reached deeper into the now modified portal's energies, bending them to his will. What should have been a pure, stable connection warped grotesquely, twisting into something unnatural. Like a sickly branch connected to a tree, his sorcery drank into more and more. The once-brilliant threads of the Force began to darken, flickering with an unsettling, oily sheen. The very air crackled with tension, like a chord stretched too tightly, threatening to snap.

Caught and redirected. A faint shimmer began to materialize behind the Sith Lord, a swirling, sickly vortex, small at first, barely the size of a fist. Yet, with every moment, it grew larger, gaining substance. The edges of the portal rippled, as if the space around it was bending, distorting, trying to resist but failing miserably under Immortuos's influence. The Living Force itself reacted violently to this foul ritual. It writhed as the Sith Lord leeched the life from it, tearing into its fabric, using the stolen energy to fuel his own gateway. To any Force-sensitive being, the sensation would have been suffocating—like drowning in a pool of corrupted, festering darkness. The unnatural wrongness of the act cut deeply into the very essence of the Force, leaving it wounded, scarred by the violation.

And he could sense it now. He could clearly see it. The Galactic Alliance fleet that coming through the portal. And if he could see it then... "Thank you, You handed me this gift, Jedi," Immortuos sneered, his sunken red eyes gleaming with sick satisfaction. "You were so focused on your schemes, you fail to comprehend the larger picture..."

As he spoke, the infected began to retreat further, peeling away from the Jedi, their movements slow but deliberate, as if compelled by some unseen force. They no longer snarled or lunged; instead, they moved in waves, stepping back toward the growing rift with disturbing synchrony. Their twisted bodies bent and cracked, limbs jerking unnaturally, yet they remained silent, their shovel-wide smiles creeping higher as the portal behind Immortuos swirled into focus. Slowly, the hazy image of another ship's bridge began to manifest within the vortex—a vessel far removed from this one, its crew entirely unaware of the doom that was about to descend upon them. The view sharpened, the outlines of consoles and galactic alliance officers becoming clearer with each passing second. Immortuos could feel it—the connection solidifying, the bridge on the other vessel drawing closer. It was a Galactic Alliance capital vessel. His affliction, The Sickness would spread, leaping from one ship to the next.

"You, Jedi, have made it all so easy," he hissed, his voice growing darker, more sinister. " What good is your portal, if you are without a fleet?!" The Living Force screamed again, its agony rippling through the station, birthing a new energetic creation in the physical reality on the bridge. The portal behind Immortuos had grown large enough to allow passage!

And what was left of the ravenous hordes of infected began to turn their attention to a more accessible way to spread.

And their hunger could only be expressed with screams.
 

IMPERA

Glory to the Empire


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B A T T L E_F O R_B A L A N C E
Chapter II : Portal

DARK EMPIRE
TYTHON, DEEP CORE


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Within both "Guardian-3" and "Guardian-1" the situation had managed to be stabilized as while Imperial Forces could not outright repel the GADF Marines from both defense platforms, they were able to grind their advance at a halt, showering the Marines with crossfire and traps through the internal security systems which would enable Imperial forces to outmaneuver isolated groups of enemy Marines and Commandos. With the additional aid of the Beskar-armored Dark Troopers providing the defenders with additional firepower and strong defense against enemy retaliation, it was now clear that the chances of a successful GADF takeover of the Imperial defense platforms would remain very low.

Outside the stations, the Tython Defense Fleet fought fiercely with the attacking forces of the 5th Fleet as Star Destroyers and Escort Destroyers clashed with enemy warships exchanging fire as they struggled for supremacy over Tython. By now, with the 5th Fleet having already penetrated the Imperial defensive line by encircling "Guardian-3", the Tython Defense Fleet had now engaged the enemy in a brawl with the Star Destroyers and two-thirds of the Escort Destroyers moving forth to engage the 5th Fleet and it's capital ships at close range while Interdictor Star Destroyers remained behind, supported and protected by the remaining one-thirds of Escort Destroyers.

Meanwhile the TIE Brutes and TIE Destroyers would continue to engage enemy fighters and while the enemy pilots fought bravely and with strong resolve, the Imperial pilots responded with an equal determination to come on top, using their superior numbers (131 Starfighter Squadrons fielded by the Alliance's 5th Fleet compared to the 269 starfighter squadrons fielded by the Tython Defense Fleet) to split their attention between picking off enemy fighters and interceptors one by one using swarm tactics and intercept bombers and heavy attack fighters before they could deal further damage to the defense platform and the Imperial capital ships all while also launching their own individual attacks against the enemy fleet.

One would assume that the battle was shifting in favor of the Empire now that the 5th Fleet was starting to take heavy hits, however as the Tython Defense Fleet pressed on against their enemy, the Jedi had managed to take over the bridge of the Tython Orbital Station and seize control of the portal enabling another Alliance Fleet to emerge from hyperspace from behind unleashing their fire upon the Imperial warships at the rear. At the same time, another Imperial Fleet led by Admiral Max Sinn had arrived immediately attacking the rear of the 5th Fleet as both Alliance and Imperial reinforcements attempted to catch each other in a pincer maneuver, instead unironically further prolonging the battle by only expanding the brawl amongst themselves.

As the Alliance pilots fought with newfound determination, with the arrival of the Alliance fleet increasing morale, the Imperial pilots returned once more with equal fanaticism motivated by the arrival of the Imperial fleet. The Imperial pilots were relentless in their pursuit of victory, fighting the enemy in an aggressive manner as they sought victory at all costs even if it lead to their deaths. Whenever they could squadrons would coordinate with other squadrons to achieve smaller objectives like taking out enemy squadrons or attacking capital ships, acting with great cohesion and efficiency, while individual pilots would fight with a ruthless fury their patterns and movements unpredictable as they made their way from one enemy starfighter to another.

Regardless what was certain of this battle was that even with the reinforcements from both sides, that it was far from over as thousands of Imperial and Alliance starfighters and bombers clashed in miniature dogfights moving around swiftly like flies while capital ships from both sides exchanged fire doing their best to take each other out through any means necessary. However unbeknownst to the Alliance, the Imperial Fleet still had more cards to play and were now in a position to play them as the battle continued to grow more intense between both fleets.

This is my last post with the IMPERA account regarding this theatre of the space battle. Command of the Tython Defense Fleet has been delegated to Max Sinn Max Sinn who is free to use the ships outlined above in the Tython Defense Fleet in their next post.

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Tags [Allies] | Max Sinn Max Sinn
Tags [Enemies] | Amelia von Sorenn Amelia von Sorenn | Liram Angellus Liram Angellus

 
That light at the end of the tunnel leads to Hell

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5th Reactionary Fleet
For anyone that wants to read it, The Angellus family history to this point Is here.
Angellus
Ewan Isaacs - CAG/SCAR Teams CO
LCaptain Halpern "Celestial City CO"
Captain Zev Tantor "Silver City" CO
Captain Rojuh Pouil "Valhalla" CO
Captain Scott Pouil - Flight Director 5th Fleet
Chief Gribbs - NCOIC 5th Fleet.
S.E.R.A.P.H.I.M. - 5th Fleet A.I.

[ANY COMMUNICATIONS INSIDE THESE BRACKETS ARE THE RESULT OF COMMS COMMUNICATION]

Code:
SECTOR: Tython
ORDERS: Retake the Planet and the system.
WINGMATES: Amelia von Sorenn Amelia von Sorenn | Magdalena Bloodscrawl Magdalena Bloodscrawl
ENGAGING: Max Sinn Max Sinn | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen



Objective II — Portal​





Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm

The vast expanse of space shimmered with the distant glow of stars. Admiral Liram Angellus stood on the bridge of the GADF Celestial City, the flagship of the 5th Reactionary Fleet, his weathered hands clutching the console as if it were a lifeline. He scanned the holographic display, watching the unfolding chaos surrounding the planet Tython, where the Galactic Alliance faced the relentless might of the Dark Empire.
“Tighten the formation! We can’t let them break our lines!” Liram barked, eyes narrowed in determination. His voice cut through the chatter of the bridge crew, galvanizing them into action. The stakes were high. Tython, a planet steeped in the history of the Jedi, was their beacon of hope. To lose it would mean ceding not just territory, but the very lifeblood of the Jedi Order.
“Admiral, we’ve got heavy resistance at Guardian-3,” an officer reported, his face lined with worry. “Imperial forces have entrenched their positions, and our marines are struggling against the crossfire. The Dark Troopers...”
“Understood,” Liram interrupted, dismissing the officer’s concerns with a wave. He knew the situation was dire, but holding the line was essential. The Jedi needed time. “Reinforce the marines. Send in the support ships. We will take Guardian-3, or I will personally drag every last one of those soldiers out myself.”
By then the Avalon had moved to a position in the middle of “Invictus 3” and “Invictus 1” before it could hold out no longer and succumbed to the reactor coolant leak. The fireball sent shockwaves of debris and destruction at both platforms.
The surviving SCARs were using every trick they had on the outside of “Invictus 2” setting charges on the viewports and blowing them, sending transparisteel and bodies outward. They were not entering the platform yet, they would once the TIE pilots decided that they were targets. Until then, they would thin out the crew of the platform from the outside. Once in , they would find the reactor and set their last explosives (setting it to overload and destroying the failsafe).


Chapter 2: The Clashing Titans

Outside, Tython became a theater of war. Massive Star Destroyers and Escort Destroyers clashed like titans, their hulls illuminated by the flash of lasers and explosions. The sky was a tempest of starfighter squadrons diving and weaving in a deadly ballet.
Within the reinforcement Fleet, Admiral Max Sinn was no doubt orchestrating her forces with precision. Her Imperial fleet had grown in numbers, a cacophony of TIEs screaming through space; they surged forward, determined to grind the Alliance forces to dust.
Their numbers were overwhelming—greater numbers squadrons contending against only surviving wings from the 5th Fleet. The TIE Brutes and TIE Destroyers fought with pinpoint coordination, outmaneuvering enemy fighters with tactical genius. It was a deluge of aggression, pushing toward a fleeting victory that felt just within grasp.
But Liram sensed the shift. “Status report!” he demanded sharply. The officer hesitated, his brow furrowed.
“We’re taking heavy damage, sir. Our capital ships are feeling the pressure, and we’re outnumbered—”
“Then we’ll outthink them,” Liram replied grimly, his mind racing with possibilities. “Send a message to Captain Pouihl on the Valhalla—he needs to flank their defenses.”
Liram had no time for despair. The Jedi had seized the bridge of the Tython Orbital Station, their cries for help echoing through the comms. “The Jedi are in position! They are in full control of the portal!” a voice chimed in excitedly.

Chapter 3: The Turning Tide

As expectations hung futilely in the balance, the tide began to shift. The arrival of the Alliance’s reinforcements invigorated the beleaguered pilots. Tython wasn’t lost; the Jedi had reclaimed part of the battle.
“Rally to me!” Liram shouted. “Let’s show these Imperial dogs the strength of the Alliance! For Tython! I want all Skycranes, and H.E.R.C.U.L.E.S. to launch on direct intercept course with Imperial bridges.”
“Are you asking them to crash course, sir?”
Liram answered “A.R.C.A.N.E. controls them, they are unmanned. They only lost life will be Imperial.”
He felt the energy surge through the ranks, a collective roar of determination that echoed through the heart of the fleet. Pilots, battered yet defiant, flew as if with one mind now, weaving side by side to penetrate the enemy lines.
At the same time, the Imperials found themselves grappling with reinforcements of their own. But neither side understood that war was an unpredictable beast. As the battle intensified, the Imperial fleet revealed a hidden strength—a reserve force positioned to strike with brutal precision.


Chapter 4: The Last Stand


What emerged was sheer chaos, a cacophony of lasers and orders. The confined space of the engagements would soon become a furnace, boiling with the sweat and determination of every pilot involved. The dark void of space flickered violently with the bright glow of lasers as the two fleets clashed.
The 5th Fleet’s starfighters danced upon the battlefield, they may have been outnumbered, but they were better trained and in more advanced ships, maneuvering through the metal graveyard of fallen ships, but it was not without cost. As the fighters engaged, Liram’s heart sank. So many had started this day flying for a cause, now they raced amidst fire and destruction.
“Keep pushing! We can’t relent! We just need to hold the line a little bit longer…” Liram shouted into the whirlwind of sound. He was anchored amidst the storm, guiding the 5th Fleet forward, constantly aware that the outcome rested squarely on his shoulders.
Reports filed frantically. “Admiral, we’re losing ground at Guardian-1! The Dark Troopers are holding firm with the damage being reported.”
“Pull them back and onto the Stellar, immediately! We’ll wrack that thing from the outside and reinforce the orbital station . We’ll hold the line for the Jedi! They need the cover!”
As if summoned by his words, the Jedi rallied. Their task was formidable, but their connection to the Force steered them through the chaos like stars winking in the dark. They engaged the Dark Troopers, channeling their strength to turn the tide of this endless battleground. The moment that the last Marines were able to board “The Stellar” and the ship was able to limp away towards “Invictus 1” … Angelus shouted out for all available turbolaser batteries to open fire on the damaged station. The other weapons on fleet ships, missiles, mass drivers, those were focusing on the Imperial ships, either targeting directly, or being used to cover the crash course of the “Skycranes”, and “H.E.R.C.U.L.E.S.


Chapter 5: The Final Charge

In the heart of the fray, as Liram observed the tumultuous ebb and flow of the engagement, he made a fateful decision. “Press forward! Engage the capital ships! We take the fight to them! Coverfire for the bombers.”
With a full-throated roar, the 5th Fleet surged forward—a desperate gambit fueled by sheer grit and fire. They plunged into the fray, weaving around the enemies, driving relentlessly toward Imperial flanks.
And as chaos descended, Liram’s resolve remained unbroken. Whether they won or lost was yet to be determined, but in this dance of destruction, he stood resolute, determined to hold the line, driven by the haunting whisper of the Force, a beacon that promised hope even in the darkest hour.
The battle raged and twisted as Tython became a bloodied arena, emblazoned with the legends of the brave. Ultimately, courage would chart their course, and as the clash of titans continued, Admiral Liram Angellus knew the spirit of the Jedi would not falter. Together, they would fight as long as they drew breath; victory or death, they would carve their legacy in the fabric of the galaxy.

To be continued…
 

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RECLAIM TYTHON

Tython
ANS Mon Mothma
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Klaxons blared to life as the first wave of concussion missiles were picked up on sensors, the flight paths calculated and carefully plotted as the first volley was met with a return salvo of torpedoes from the ANS Mon Mothma. The torpedoes slipped silently through space until they reached their predetermined points then erupted into a brilliant flash of light, detonating just as the incoming concussion missiles made their way toward the behemoth. The vessel seemingly roared in defiance as it pushed forward, lumbering into the field of battle as it met the second volley of Meg Pulse missiles with calculated and well-placed shots of its anti-missile octets. A small smirk remained upon her lips as those brilliant, blue eyes peered out into space. The shields of the vessel flashed, and the behemoth shuddered and roared once more; even with its heavier defenses, a handful of the missiles from the third volley managed to slip through, rocking the vessel as they struck the shields.
Amelia stepped forward, nodding silently as her attention fell upon the beleaguered 5th Fleet, her heart sinking at the fact that they had to fight for so long without relief. The lives that had already been lost could not be recovered, yet, their sacrifice in holding the line would not be forgotten, and she wasn't about to leave the Deep Core empty-handed. Turning to the Communications Officer, she nodded silently before returning her attention forward, her voice slipping out into the cold darkness as new life sprung into the hearts of the men and women of the Alliance.
"Ascendancy Squadron, push forward and relieve the 5th Fleet, punch a hole through that defensive fleet, and make a clear path for them to withdraw toward the portal. Theselon Squadron, shift to the left flank and hold fast, prepare to engage, we can likely expect another Imperial Fleet arriving at any moment."
As her focus remained forward, she watched the fourth volley of missiles streak through the darkness of space toward the Battle Dragons of Theselon Squadron. Her attention fell upon the warships as they unleashed a volley of proton torpedoes in return, each detonating in the flight path of the missiles as they followed up with their antimissile octets. The finely tuned orchestra struck down many of the missiles, however, there were still those that managed to slip through, rocking the Hapan Battle Dragons as their shields flashed from the missiles impacting. There were plenty of emotions that tore through her body, yet, worry and concern were not among them.
Slowly her attention turned toward the defensive platforms hanging in orbit, her eyes narrowing as they fell upon one designated as Guardian-4. Looking over her shoulder, her voice sprung forth, carefully slipping into existence as she motioned toward the defensive station, nodding to it as she slipped her arms behind her back, clasping her hands together.
"Gunnery Officer, do you see that station designated Guardian-4?"
"Yes, Ma'am..."
"I don't want to see it..."
The words spoken were all that were needed for the Officer to understand what the Supreme Commander desired, and in rapid succession, the orders were given. The behemoth aimed at the station, bringing to bear its Octuple Barbette Heavy Turbolasers, and unleashed a volley of fire, one that, if sound could travel through space, would best be described as the roar of an enraged beast. The Turbolasers unleashed their concentrated volley of fire against the station, followed by a volley of fire from its Heavy Ion Cannons.
"Star Shield Strike Group, deploy forward and assist in clearing out some of these Star Destroyers, focus on those that have severe damage first before engaging the others..."
As Amelia was issuing the commands, her ears perked up, something didn't feel... right. Rolling her head slowly, she slipped her shoulders in small circles before she turned to her right. Brilliant blue hues fell upon it, a portal, one opening on the bridge of her vessel. It was entirely uncivilized, and outright rude to invite oneself onto her vessel, and yet, here someone or something was doing just that. Looking to her bridge crew, she nodded silently, their bodies frozen for a moment before they quickly went back to work, her voice ringing out as she stepped forward, hand clutching the hilt of the blade at her side.
"Get a security detail to the bridge immediately. Vice Admiral Thalu, you have command."
Amelia stepped forward, vibrosword drawn and held to her right side as her left hand carefully came to grip the hilt just below her right hand. Her attention remained on the portal as she slowly brought the blade up, her stance taking on one reminiscent of Shii-Cho as her thumb slipped up the hilt of the blade. Pressing firmly against a button, activating the ultrasonic vibration generator, the blade sprung to life, a chilly blue hue shifted over the runes carved along the blade as it vibrated back and forth.
Amelia waited...
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