Invasion Break of Dawn || CIS Invasion of BOTM held Rhand

[Kiff Brayde]

S T O R M B R E A K E R

[] Theme []​

Objective: End the Chaos
Allies: Jason Breaker | Vemric Keldra | Verin Oldo | Daegon Corvinus
Enemies: Tu'teggacha | Talon Kyber | Isabella Pavan | Zachariel Steelblood | Aldo Garrick | Halketh

Too slow.

They were too slow. The battle had begun to amp up as Kiff's wedge advanced on the massive world station that was hooked to the skydock that extended to the slave port below. Breaker's ships had escalated the fighting quicker than Kiff had wanted, although he hadn't planned on extending quarter to the Brotherhood of the Maw. But the brief period of time where he'd assumed they considered his offer had been needed to get into closer range for the Storm King to have domination over the battlefield.

"Minister, I think you want to see this. . ." Bragga called from behind him. Kiff turned, his eyes narrowing slightly. Whenever someone said that, it never meant something good. Kiff crossed the few paces between the helm and the fleet-coord table to stand opposite of Bragga, who had pulled up a scale version of the massive Maw worldship on the holotable. "The scan-comm has the reports you asked for. Those savages are loading slaves onto the worldship, through the skydock." She didn't say it, but Kiff knew what she meant. This battle wouldn't be as simple as just blowing up the worldship -- it had become infinitely more complicated.

Kiff swore internally , turning around to Flight Commander Polba, an Aqualish who'd served in the Bassadro Sector Armada before being transferred to the storm fleet. "Polba, how many droids do we have aboard the Storm King?" He already knew that the rest of his fleet had no ground forces. He'd tasked himself with the role of space superiority, and hadn't thought that boarding ships would be necessary when the plan had only been to blow them apart.

"W-we have five hundred thousand battle droids aboard, Minister," the Flight Commander blubbered, his basic mangled by the physical constraints of his Aqualish features. "Give or take a couple thousand. But of those, only ten thousand are currently activated, and of those there are only enough assault landers to ferry waves of twenty-four hundred at a time." Kiff's brow furrowed with consternation. That wasn't good, it was plain to see. Battle droids depended on overwhelming numbers to achieve victory, and on a worldship that was nearly five times the size of the Storm King, two thousand was barely a dent against the forces the Maw likely had garrisoned there.

But did they have a better option?

"Launch all assault lander squadrons," Kiff ordered at last. "Ensure they are each filled with battle droids, and each squadron will have an escort of two Vulture Droid squadrons from the Storm King's hangars." The Flight Commander nodded his acknowledgement of the order and made his way to his own control station to relay Kiff's commands to the Star Dreadnought's hangar master. Kiff turned to the comm-scan. In the meantime, the rest of the Confederacy forces needed to be made aware of the development. “CIS forces,” he announced over the encrypted communication channel exclusive to Confederacy ships, “hold fire on the Maw worldstation. Civilian captives are located on the station, and ground forces are moving to engage and rescue. I repeat, hold your fire.” Content with the orders, he strode away from the comm-scan to the fleet-coord table, making a mental note to redesign the bridge the next time the Storm King was in dry dock so he wouldn’t have to make a journey from the command table to comm-scan just to relay his orders.

He was walking when alarms blared and someone shouted “Chit!” Kiff only saw Bragga’s face, tight and pale. His stomach sunk, but he didn’t need to ask.

“ Shots fired from unclassified battlecruiser-grade ship,” the tactical droid reported. “Directed at unclassified mobile station. The ship is hailing as CIS-aligned.”

What in the Western Reaches? was all that Kiff could think before he realized he had to act. But the Vicelord had been quicker, and although the order had been directed to Oldo directly, Kiff had still heard it. “Any way you can.” Oldo was loyal, loyal beyond doubt. Kiff knew that he would follow any command to a fault. Even if that meant his own life.

Kiff would not allow another sacrifice of an dear friend. A better man than most. He would not have another Commander Jol.

“Helm,” he said softly, the usual gusto replaced with something colder. More dangerous. “Adjust course. Place our prow facing the ship of Laertia Io.”

The droid at the Helm followed the order immediately, and the starfield began to move as the Storm King yawed to port to face the massive battle cruiser sized ship. There was no time to order Laertia to stand down — he’d already expressly commanded that all ships cease fire against the battle station, a command that the battlecruiser had expressly ignored. “Is the Thandarian Mass Accelerator cannon charged?” He asked to the gunnery captain, who wordlessly nodded a confirmation. The Leviathan was now directly in front of the bow of the Storm King, the battlecruiser still thundering away.

“You may fire when ready.”

Sound cannot be heard in space; any spacer knew that, even cadets at the academy who were as dry as a summer day. Yet when the massive ATK-19 Thandarian Mass Accelerator Cannon fired, it felt as if the void around it screamed, although it was only the Storm King’s internal components adjusting to the sudden expulsion of energy and mass. A single blare of the klaxons followed, announcing the launch of the massive cannon to the entire ship, as if the mass accelerator’s report had not been enough.

Kiff did not even have time to reflect on the destruction before a fresh crisis arose. It was Bragga again. “Fething gundarks — Minister!” She shouted, all previous attempts of decorum lost. Kiff’s blood was racing, and he hardly noticed. And the urgency in her tone — and alarm in her wording — told her that she had good cause to swear so loudly and openly.

“Cronau Radiation, a thousand and a half klicks out. Near the planet’s atmosphere, port-side.” He distantly heard the scan-com report, but his attention was fully on Bragga.

In her eyes was a look of. . . fear.

“An entire armada just reverted to realspace, ten klicks from the rear position of our rear forces. Our escort cruisers. . . they didn’t stand a chance. Only the Barbatos is still intact, but they’re reporting that their primary thrusters and hyperdrive are compromised. Reactor core is leaking too. They’re signaling desperately for aid.” The pit in Kiff’s stomach only sank deeper when he saw the enormity of the fleet.

“Assault dropships have contact sir! Mild losses, but we’ve landed roughly twenty-two hundred droids on the worldship.” Another report rang out. “Minister, what are your orders?”

Then “Primary Maw dreadnought is showing signs of a power build up. Possible discharge of weapon of mass destruction, imminent,” came the report of the tactical droid.

“Maw fighters swarming the 44th line! Fireshield and Ilun are destroyed! Minister?”

“Minister, what are your orders?”

“Minister!”

It was too much. It was all too much.

His knuckles were white from pressing into the cold metal rim of the fleet-coordination table, he realized. In a daze, he lifted them away, feeling a faint tingling in his hands as bloodflow returned to them. The blood seemed to be returning to his brain, too. He was the Minister of War, veteran of half a hundred battles. He was Kiff Brayde. And he would not be dying today.

“Order the 42nd to swing around and accelerate to meet our new friends,” he commanded. Being port side, the 42nd skirmish line would have the easier path to intercept. “Helm, downward tilt of forty-five degrees and port tilt of twenty-five degrees. Port Solar Ionization Cannons, target the two nearest Praetorian Star Destroyers and fire once you have locked target. The 42nd will intercept their smaller ships.”

“Minister,” Bragga protested. “The 42nd is hopelessly outnumbered against that fleet!”

Kiff’s face was grim. “Yet they will intercept all the same. Inform Grand Marshal Keldra that he is to augment the 42nd with his own forces. They are all we have. Port Dual Orbital Autocannons, target the other capital ships making to intercept with our fleet. Starboard Solar Ionization cannons, target the fleet port side as well, alongside our long range mass driver cannons. Starboard Dual Orbital Autocannons, target the portion of the new fleet descending into the planet — they’ll not escape us in atmosphere.”

He paused to catch his breath and review what my before him, before continuing. “Inform Fleet Marshal Breaker and High Marshal Oldo to take what forces they can spare and intercept the fleet descending into atmosphere. Instruct then to not interfere with the firing angles of the Storm King, and tmthat they are welcome to the leftovers.” He ran a hand through his hair, forking the dark long strands. “Launch all fighters from the Storm King. Remaining vulture droids are to escort our heavy bombers on targeting runs against the forward Maw fleet. The 44th is to push with them, and I want focus on that dreadnought, particularly its reactor core. Destabilize it before it can charge whatever it’s charging. Any of our guns that are in range are to do the same.”

And last of all, their main objective. “Ion batteries, disable that worldship’s primary drives, but keep it afloat. Turbolasers, target any defenses, but keep the worldship’s superstructure intact. Tractor beams, lock onto it. We don’t have interdictors, but we sure as hell aren’t going to let them escape with those slaves. All droids borded are to find, liberate, and escort slaves to the assault landers for transport to the Storm King.”

He looked around. “You have your orders. Now, go!”

The subsequent roar of thunder from the Star Dreadnought served as a reminder for why it was called the Storm King. For as mighty a storm that the Maw forces were, they would how before the wroth of the King.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Flagship

• Storm King-class Star Dreadnought
  • CNS Storm King [92% Shields, 100% Structure]

42nd Skirmish Line

• x1 Argente-class Assault Cruiser
  • CNS Lady Talon [67% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x2 Bonteri-class Escort Carriers
  • CNS Starwalker [0% Shields, 0% Structure] Destroyed
  • CNS Royal Flush [0% Shields, 0% Structure] Destroyed
• x3 Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
  • CNS Cayano [87% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Bloody Smile [92% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Raptorflight [68% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x6 Trench-class Fast Attack Corvettes
  • CNS Eybel [52% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Varunn [91% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Firestar [63% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Wampa Rush [98% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Most Loyal [43% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Sayu [85% Shields, 100% Structure]

44th Skirmish Line

• x1 Argente-class Assault Cruiser
  • CNS Rex Lapis [88% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x2 Bonteri-class Escort Carriers
  • CNS Barbatos [0% Shields, 25% Structure]
  • CNS Coroner [0% Shields, 0% Structure] Destroyed
• x3 Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
  • CNS Brightshine [97% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Fireshield [0% Shields, 0% Structure] Destroyed
  • CNS Breathtaker [56% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x6 Trench-class Fast Attack Corvettes
  • CNS Bassan [23% Shields, 93% Structure]
  • CNS Dreamfly [88% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Illun [0% Shields, 0% Structure] Destroyed
  • CNS Black Folly [99% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Sola’s Scar [65% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Mistrust [87% Shields, 100% Structure]

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

Storm King

• The Thandarian Mass Accelerator Cannon had fired at the Leviathan.
• Port side (x2) Solar Ionization Cannons are targeting and firing at the Praetorian-class Star Destroyers Bane and Sissiri.
• Port side (x4) Dual Orbital Autocannons targeting Final Order capital ships in orbit (x1 Supremacy-class, x3 Praetorian-clsss) engaging Confederate forces.
• Starboard side (x2) Solar Ionization Cannons targeting Final Order capital ships in orbit (x1 Sovereign-class)
• Starboard side (x4) Dual Orbital Autocannons targeting Final Order ships descending into atmosphere. Target at opposition writer discretion.
• Ion batteries are firing at worldship primary thrusters, with intent to disable hyperspace travel but keep the station aloft. Turbolasers are firing at worldship defenses but making sure to keep superstructure intact. Tractor beams are locking onto worldship, aiming keeping it in place.
• All remaining weapons are firing at forward Maw fleet, focusing on the dreadnought
  • ATX-19K Thandarian Mass Accelerator Cannon | Fully Charged
  • RMSD-M11 Vroeger Solar Ionization Batteries | 0/2 Posts
  • RMAD-M12 Bralsingr Dual Orbital Autocannons | Fully Charged

Fleet

• All fighter squadrons of the Storm King have launched. Assault Landers have ferried battle droids to the Maw worldship, escorted by two squadrons of Vulture Droids per squadron of Assault Lander. Heavy Bombers are making runs against the Maw Dreadnought, escorted by remaining Vulture droid squadrons. All other fighters are intercepting Maw fighters.
• 42nd Skirmish Line is moving to intercept Final Order starships.
• 44th Skirmish Line is moving on to push the frontal Maw fiery, focusing on the Dreadnought and its reactor core and any vulnerabilities.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Darth Mori //:
//: Port Sorrow //:
//: Closure //:

The world of Rhand could be, possibly ending, but Quinn's world - it felt like it was shattering all over again. Hearing everything that Vesta said, the reminder of the failed assassination and how she didn't even know about her looking. Quinn gripped the blade's hilt tighter, wanting to throw it as far as she could in a fit. Vesta was stubborn; she had always been. Was it that hard to accept that through everything, Quinn had loved her to the fullest?

"You were my WORLD, my everything Vesta - I followed you as far as you would let me." She fought back the urge to cry and scream, everything the Echani had held bubbled to the surface. "You always kept me at arm's length, and I never understood why. I wanted to be with you more than anything. You are a part of me and--" she cut herself off and ran her hand under her face. The tears she thought she had finished shedding for her lost lover.

Vesta's words cut deep, Quinn knew she was selfish and self-centered, but she was never like that with the Zambrano. She wanted nothing more than to be happy, together, in a world they created. Yet, Vesta threw it all away the moment she disappeared.

"I looked for you. I looked everywhere I could think of. I wrote to you; I called you. I held on to the locket you gave me…." A hand reached under her collar, showing the Sith the necklace that bound them together. "You said it would always bring you to me, and you never came. You never reached back out to me."

Slender fingers grasped the warm metal, feeling the familiarity to it. Hourly, Quinn would clutch it, trying to use it to find Vesta. Daily she would find herself curled in her cold bed alone, crying herself to sleep - lost as to what happened to the most important person in her world. Noelle had to force-feed her and do something to take her mind off of the loss.

"You left me; you PROMISED you would never leave me - yet you did. You left me all alone, my love for you - is something I'll never lose, but how dare you push the blame on me saying I left you." It was then her voice cracked, "My world revolves around you, don't you dare think otherwise- even if you don't care about me, I care about you - I always will, and you better start caring about yourself too."

Her grip loosened on the locket, letting it fall back against her chest. "Even if you don't care, even if you never loved me - you…you were my world, Vesta." ​

 

[Jhira Mereel]

Destroy Temple

​

Post: 3

LOCATION: Port Sorrow, Rand
Objective 3: Destroy Bone Temple. Survive. Don’t kill civilians.
Equipment: Cybernetics | Jet Pack | Beskar’gam | Weapon load out
Allies: [ Kyyrk ] [ Vyse de Valorous ]
Opposition: [ Dakrul ] [ Darth Senthral ] [ Darth Tennacus ]
Enemies outside temple: [ Bendak Crail ] [ Jaedec Ren ] [ Adaz ]
Allies outside of temple: [ Zlova Rue ] [ Diocletian Kahmen’’a ] [ Ghost "Frankie" Sterling ]
Deep within the Temple: [ Darth Carnifex ]



[ Kyyrk ] Kyyrk turned to face Jhira, violet eyes seething with power, framed by ice-white skin and that odd, alien visage. Centered, focused - more so than she’d ever seen him. The Eldritch Knight was elemental, effortlessly manifesting all of the things Jhira was desperately trying to project. The horrors of this place could not touch him, somehow. Attention snared, she studied him intently, sheltering in the eye of the storm, until she might absorb some of his calm and content.

That they were watched constantly sent a chill down her spine. Worse still? Kyrrk, Wrath of Vylmira, categorized the powerful necromancy surrounding them as rudimentary measures.

[ Vyse de Valorous ] A blast of wind from extreme motion, and the lurid red light of a Sithsaber startled Jhira into a knee jerk reaction; the light, bantering tone kept it from being a fatal mistake only by a breath. “I am surrounded by shabla Sith!” Jhira yelped. Heart pounding, blaster aimed center mass, finger a hairsbreadth from firing, she stared at him. It took a deadly, near-fatal moment to process the Sith’s transition from enemy to ally. Kyrrk gently moved her weapon so it was no longer pointing at their erstwhile ally’s heart. Still Jhira stared; a bright smirk, confident demeanor … what kind of crazy was this squire, to be so enjoying themselves down here? A shuddering gasp, then Jhira tossed off a casual-seeming, “Those wraith things don’t look like blaster fire will affect them. You up for the challenge?”

Kyrrk’s silver lightsaber burned, glowing furiously and seeming to push back the Dark, all by itself. Jhira half-turned to guard the passage, as silver and red blades aggressed against the denizens of this cursed temple. Low, dreadfully low on cartridges, Jhira had run out of flechette rounds and was down to one cartridge of the plasma, and two more of slug throwers. Eighteen shots. Dropping her pistols, allowing her magnetic tether to bind them into place, she drew her LPD-28 Silver Talon Series Vibro Beskad. New to her, it had not yet drawn blood.

Now it would be christened upon the ichor of risen slaves.

To cover her repositioning, she tossed a Cryban grenade behind her, then slotted into place behind the Knight and Squire.

It was time, though; they were close. Mid-fight, from deep within the catacombs beneath the corrupted temple, she reached out to the Allegiance, starting the preflight check.

Ret’lini. Just in case.

[ Jaedec Ren ] [ Bendak Crail ] The Sragivagr Control suite gave her unparalleled control of their precious life-line, its droid brain able to make split second decisions - but this time something confused it. The Allegiance suddenly downloaded a visual to her HUD: more forces incoming. And the AI couldn’t fathom an IFF designation; conflicting information. With a small wince, she keyed the young Squire’s IFF to friendly; that took care of the new forces down here.

But topside?

The monstrosity and it’s ally upon speeder bikes remained firmly in the Foe category.

[ Adaz ] More heartbreaking still, was the painful designation of the Chiss survivors to Foe. Jhira spent a precious moment tormenting herself by listening their rabid, insane chant. They’d come to serve the very thing that had destroyed their world, and it shook her deeply. She shuddered and snapped the visual off, unable to take another moment.

[ Zlova Rue ] Keying her COMMs, she reached out to the whole, expanded team. ⌁ Zlova, there are no dark sorcerers or crazy priests in here, at all. Nothing but undead. Watch your six, though; two Knights of evil, and …. ⌁ her voice failed her for a devastating moment. ⌁ A unit of Chiss. ⌁

⌁ [ Diocletian Kahmen’’a ] Flat-head - sorry, never got your call sign - and [ Ghost "Frankie" Sterling ] Red Eyes, this is a surprise. ⌁ Now THAT was a voice she’d never thought to hear again, having only heard it when purchasing gear. He was supposed to be dead, right? ⌁ Nice to know grenades work on undead. ⌁

⌁ Both of you, please cover Zlova Rue. The red Twi’lek. Be ready to bug out on my mark. And I do mean all the way out. Things are going to get hot in here. ⌁

Now blaster fire was woven into the near hypnotic beauty of both Kyyrk’s and Vyse’s bladework. Lightening leapt from the silver blade, a cool, clean and quick beauty instead of the thing of terror she’d always known Force Lightening to be. It woven a pattern of light, in that dark place, and Jhira carefully walked in the pathways so illuminated.

[ Darth Carnifex ] Somewhere, deep below them, something happened. Reflections against walls and undead carapaces showed Jhira the occasional, maddening flash of cerulean blue. Shattered, dissipated, she could not decipher what caused it.

Thump.

The ground shook. Jhira pierced a zombie through the head with her beskad, fighting to keep her balance. Yet the press of battle moved them forward, into the larger room. One where her agility might once again become an asset. A lunge, a dodge and she was behind a small, crippled creature that might once have been a child. Her beskad shattered the neck with a single stike. Ducking, twirling, she blocked two more blows, striving to keep pace with the glittering sabers driving so hard towards their goal.

Thump.

Stronger, harder, this time Jhira missed a step in the strange dance of death, taking a blow to her thigh that nearly doubled her over. Gasping, she jetted up into the air, out of reach, only to smash down, feet first, upon the twisted skeleton seeking to strike a blow at the back of allies.

Her shield flickered out, once again.

Thump.

Dust and rubble sifted free, larger debris striking her helmet, her shoulders, her precious Jet Pack, and would until that deadly one minute timer was up and her Shield once more sheltered her. Swearing softly, blood and sweat dripping into her eyes, she tossed her second Cryoban grenade, counting the seconds until her defenses were back up.

[ Darth Tennacus ] But the Darkness coalesced before her, into an entirely new menace. Wielding an ancient relic of a sword, that already dripped with gore and blood. Whose, she could only shudder to contemplate. The wraith held not a face, nor eyes, only an amorphous anonymity that was repulsive to Jhira. Horrific, to die unknown, unmourned, unrecognized. Fear, fear taught her there were new levels of terror.

Blood pooled in her right boot, and trailed down her armor, to join the rivulets of coagulating blood at her feet. Gashes in her armor twice pierced her torso, the body suit straining to heal enough to restore integrity. Breath came in pained, controlled bursts, but her movement remained light, preternaturally agile as she brought her Beskad to guard position.

Jhira didn’t need to be told this foe was beyond her; but she would not desert her allies. Would not break faith with Kyrrk.

Trust. She trusted him. Almost as much as she hated this place.

He’d aid her when his own foes went down. Maybe they both would. Until then … keep it talking. She needed twenty more seconds.

Just twenty.

“There’s no glory in this kind of slaughter.” She countered. “No glory; just pain and horror, countered with will that will not be broken.”

“I prefer a foe that matters.” That part of her, the suicidal part of her that drove her to be a warrior and not just an armorer, gloried in facing such an overwhelming foe. Her chin lifted, and adrenaline-spurred energy poured into her. With a fierce, defiant laugh, she saluted the apparition with her blade.

“Do you matter, darkspawn?”

​

​

 

[Tegan Starfall]

Post: 4
Objective: Let's play with Fire
Location: Port Sorrow, Rhand
Equipment: Mind Crown | Black MidNight Duster with Hood | Echani shield suit | Grav Boots | Eltro Life Gloves | x4 red lightsabers | Defender | Forearm Lanvorak | Wrist Laser | x2 FWG-5 Flechette Smart Pistol | Boomer | X4 Daggers | Pack of Death sticks | Various Explosives on person and in backpack | Holopad
Allies: The Mongrel | Kyrel Ren [/USER] | Ignatius Rausgeber | Blade Ice | Maestus | Khamul Kryze | Darth Solipsis | Dakrul | Darth Tennacus
Enemies: Darth Carnifex | Gerwald Lechner | Diocletian Kahmen’’a | Kyyrk | Zlova Rue | Jhira Mereel | Priesse Verena | Lunara Azure | Rann Thress | Caltin Vanagor | Felix Aquila | Dreidi Xeraic | Laertia Io | Srina Talon | Darth Empyrean | Prennis Keeoli | Corin Autem | Ruus Kote | Damsy Callat | Kristyl Arenais | Taiia Mataan | Lirka Ka | Ket Cros | any one else at the temple I missed
Special Tags: Open

---

Port Sorrow

A momentary calm passed over her as she sifted through the code on her Holopad that was opening doors to Laertia Io Droid’s comms systems. Getting into he Comms system and it frequencies was the first bit and the easiest part to do nearly undetected. She linked her holopad in by spoofing a droid brains basic binary protocol unless someone dug through the code inch by inch, they wouldn’t notice the anomaly unless Tegan tried to move past the comm systems or do anything beyond just listening, reading the command lines, or Basic protocol programs for communications.


Tegan didn’t care about the chatter it held no interest to her so muted it. She then brought up a search program on her holopad and had it start sifting through the command lines, and basic communications protocol. The program was quickly sorting the command line and protocols searching for specific lines ones that could not be overridden and were hard coded into the system. Once she had that she could determine by that alone what types of droids were on the comm system Protocol, Astromech, Limited A.I. , True A.I. and mother types by the hard coded protocols that couldn’t be over ridden without damaging the system itself.


As her program began work Tegan up linked it to her Mindcrown so she could work hands free on it. For the moment she would have to wait for the program to finish running its course, so she turned her attention to other things. As she did the call had been put out putting operation Cinder into overdrive. She then turned to her the sniper that had his sights on Lirka Ka . She looked at him and then out to the battlefield Lirka was engaging in. “It’s time.” She said to him and as she did, he steadied his aim, aim for Lirka’s head. He let out an easy breath and pulled the trigger, click bang the armor piercing projectile left the barrel flying at near the speed of sound towards it target. If it missed the soldier would take aim and fire again.



The Bone Temple.

The end was near and Tegan mindcrown was running the searching program, but it also began to arm the explosives in the Temple. All along the inner sanctum lights came on with a count down that began flashing. The bombs could have gone off if someone entered the inner sanctum of the Temple, but they also could arm remotely, and the timers activated. Tegan’s mindcrown stretched out and armed each of the explosive powerful enough to level temple and collapse the catacomb tunnels beneath it. The timers would ensure the temple was buried if orbital bombardment didn’t do the job. The Timers were set at Fifteen minutes and the count down now ticked down.


Confederacies Biggest Mistake was thinking the Sorcerer’s of Rhand or even the Maw cared about a single world. The wanted to snuff them all out one by one including the ones they controlled. Worlds didn’t matter, Life didn’t Matter, the only thing that matter was the vision the dream of the next universe. This reality was rancid, decaying, and full of pain and misery the next would better it would be perfect. Tegan herself was the self-proclaimed God of Destruction she was the one who was meant to end this existence and bring the strong and worthy into the next existence. Maybe it was madness but today on Rhand her will of total Decimation would be felt and her truth would be seen.



Port Sorrow


Her men and the sorcerers of Rhand began moving to the transport and taking one for themselves as they did so they slaughtered ever slave onboard tossing the corpse out like they were nothing fertilizer for the life that might spring forth on this world rebirth. As the Sorcerers and the scared did this Tegan stood there taking in a breath of feeling the symphony of destruction all around her. There was no remorse or regret or even sorrow at the loss of this world. Where anger had taken her over just a bit ago now, she felt only bliss as she feed on the chaos.


She stretched out her arms wide out from her sides. “Beautiful! The taste of fire in the air, the smell of the brimstone, and the feeling of ecstasy.” BING! The sound only in her mind as the program finished running and a list of command and protocols began to scroll in front of her only, she could see. “Stop.” A smirk crossed her face.

 

[Rebirth]

Gehinnom, Slave Pens
​

"Mama, I'm scared."

Aronna Estyn looked down at her daughter, one of the hundreds of people crammed into the Mawite processing chamber aboard their huge space station, and tried to think of what to say. Alli was only seven years old. She couldn't really understand what was happening, and Aronna was in no fit state to try to explain it to her. They'd been taken in a pirate raid near the northern border of Alliance territory, their colony transport - hoping to join the famous (and Jedi-protected) Outbound Flight project - attacked by pirates when it dropped behind the rest of their group at a remote hyperjump point. That was when they'd been taken to Rhand.

The marauders had sneered at them, casually beating them with shock whips, deeming them too weak to be slave-soldiers. Aronna was glad of that, at least; she'd heard rumors about the torture that people went through to turn them into Mawite zealots, and the stories had made her shudder long before she'd ever dreamed of being captured by the Brotherhood. But how was she supposed to tell her daughter that the two of them, who had only weeks ago been poor but self-sustaining back on Coruscant, were now going to spend the rest of their -probably brief - lives toiling in the fields or factories of an evil band of pirates and marauders?

Her mind flashed back to the place they'd left behind, a little studio apartment on a cheap sublevel of the city planet. The roof had leaked because of some faulty water main above, and the lights had flickered, and the stove never worked, and she'd always been worried because drug pushers loitered outside, seedy men that Alli had been forced to walk past every day on her way home from school. Aronna had hated that apartment, had been determined to get out and give her daughter a better future. She'd been only seventeen when Alli was born, and the girl's father had immediately vanished into the teeming city streets. They were on their own.

That was why Outbound Flight had seemed like such a good idea, why she'd worked three jobs to save up the credits she'd need to start a new life for her and Alli. They'd set up in some Alliance frontier colony; she could tend bar at the local cantina, or maybe learn to farm if she had to. It'd be hard out there on the frontier, she didn't doubt it, but her whole life had been hard... and at least an untamed world held the promise of building something new, a safe place for her family. She'd felt so proud when she clutched that colony ship ticket and the little backpacks full of snacks and supplies she'd bought for herself and Alli, so hopeful.

Now she would give anything to be back in that chithole apartment.

Aronna was tired and hopeless and scared. She had nothing left to give... but she tried, crouching down to get on her daughter's level. "Sweetie, I..." she tried to find the words, some kind of assurance she could give the girl in that dark moment. "We're together," she finally said, "and that's all that matters." It wasn't a good speech, and Alli was old enough, smart enough, to know that it didn't put either of them at ease. But she was also old enough to see that her mom needed support, too. She hugged Aronna tight, and Aronna hugged her back, trying not to cry. Not now. Not in front of Alli, who was going to have to be strong. She had to be an example.

At that moment, Aronna felt a hand on her shoulder. Well, half hand, half flipper. A stocky Mon Calamari man was standing beside her, one of the many other slaves in the processing chamber just beyond the skyhook platform. He hadn't really stood out to her before, but as she looked up at him, she found he had kind eyes. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he said, speaking softly but warmly to Alli. She looked up at him through tearstained eyes, her vision blurred, the corners of her mouth trembling. "Look out there," the man said, pointing out the viewport of the processing chamber. Slaves were crowding around it now; some dared to cheer. Aronna rose.

She could immediately see what all the fuss was about: there was a space battle unfolding. Strange, unfamiliar ships were fighting the Brotherhood star destroyers... and they were winning. Though the frigates were taking heavy losses, the strange, squid-like ship at the center of the battle line was unleashing barrage after barrage against the destroyers, wearing them down. In the distance, even more non-Mawite ships looked to have jumped into the system, reinforcing the attack. The Brotherhood was totally outnumbered. For the first time in weeks, Aronna felt her heart rise. "It's the CIS," the Mon Calamari told her. "They've come to save us!"

A ragged cheer went up through the slaves as the Confederate ships closed in on Gehinnom, more and more of them engaging the Mawites at close range. "They'll board the station," the Mon Calamari was saying, "and they'll get us out. You'll see. We're about to go home." But as soon as he said it, something changed. The squid-ship turned, and the barrage of energy torpedoes it'd been unleashing on the star destroyers suddenly changed target... to attack the station. There was a moment's shocked silence before the screaming started. Slaves banged on the transparisteel viewport, waving their arms, shouting themselves hoarse. "We're here! We're not Maw!"

Alli was confused. "Mama, what's happening? Why are the good guys shooting at us?"

Aronna still didn't have any answers. To feel that moment's hope, only to see it snatched away again, was worse than to have felt no hope at all. She got down on her knees, stroked her daughter's silky blonde hair back behind one ear. "I love you, Alli," she said. "I love you always." Leaning forward, she wrapped the girl in a hug once again, a hug so tight she could barely breathe. Then she shut her eyes. Rocking slowly from side to side, she began to quietly sing, a song she'd used to lull Alli to sleep when shouted arguments and loud gunfights had raged outside their apartment. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray..."

An energy torpedo burst through the chamber's viewport, leaving behind only silence... and drifting bodies.

Alars Keto | Talon Kyber | Isabella Pavan | Dakrul | Zachariel Steelblood | Halketh | Aldo Garrick
Jason Breaker | Kiff Brayde | Westenra Mina | Laertia Io | Vemric Keldra | Oleander Webb

​

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron, the little shadow-killer
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent, Nite agent | Slave of the Maw​

Objective: BYOO, try to survive (Maw side)
Location: Gehinnom, High Above Rhand
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tag: N/A

[ Cry ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ ​

They say we can learn how to face and overcome our fears. I have failed in one area. And these were the Force Users. No matter how hard I tried, I was still terrified of them. Even though I killed my brother and other Sith, I was still afraid of them; and not only from them but from the others. Even if they were on my side. I could hardly bear the ones I had to work with, but I still went as far away from them as possible. But the Sith?

I run away, run away from them, or try to kill them out of fear. So far, there has been no intermediate road. Now, I still wanted to escape, I didn’t want to stay here, but invisible arms grabbed me and lifted me into the air. I could not breathe; for a moment, a few memories flashed in front of me, The Mongrel squeezed my throat in a snowy cityscape; but now had no hands on my neck. Countless times in my life I have gone through this. The next moment I hit the ground, but was unable to move.

"Your ridiculous uprising is over today!" he said.

There were still survivors, the soldiers who served the Sith, brought them individually or in groups to the area where we were. I knew many personally, many more only by sight. Not! I tried to beg my brother to finish, not to do this. He just laughed. I had to watch one by one as they were executed. I cried, sobbed, begged, screamed, but they were not finished. They killed them… everyone… no, they can't! They had to live, they had to live! They still lived today! They had to!

Another pain, another scream. His laughter persisted, accompanying me. Someone kicked me to the side, pain, enough! ENOOOOOGH! Just be over! I do not want; I don't want to see this anymore.

"Oh no, you're not going to follow them, we're not done yet!" he said mockingly.

His laughter accompanied me as I lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the grass, the sun was shining warm, the sky was beautiful blue, and some clouds chased each other in the sky. The scent of the flowers encompassed everything. I sat up, got to know the place, and here was the first stage of my agent training. A happy memory; I was already Ziare here, with redacted data, I didn’t have to be afraid of the Sith anymore.

I was finally happy…

 

[Laertia Io]

The Energy Torpedo bombardment came fast and relentless, all weapons fire pouring on the World ship. Xiphos could not let it escape. Would not.

She ignored the hails to stop firing on the world ship. Those slaves were all dead anyway, and the Worldship was such a valuable military asset, such a symbol to the Maw, that to not continue firing on it was insanity.

Alert. Mass Driver Launch detected. Brace for impact.

It was the only warning she would get. But it didn't come from the direction she had expected.

The Singularity shielding, to its credit, helped absorb a vast amount of the damage from the cannon. But the armor had to take the rest.

The damage was still high. The whole ship shuddered as it hit. Half it's Solar Ionization Cannons and Pulse Cannons were down and a hidious gash opened on one side, venting atmosphere which the Leviathan immediately sealed off.

Xiphos was knocked from her seat as the whole bridge shuddered.

Where did that shot come from? Xiphos growled mentally.

"From the Storm King.*

Prepare to fire the Array at its bridge.

Mother, such an act will surely be seen as Treason by the CIS Navy. You would instantly be considered an enemy by both the Maw Navy and CIS Navy. The Leviathan reminded.

I don't CARE! FIRE THE ARRAY! I WANT THAT BASTARD DEAD!!! Xiphos roared mentally.

I'm afraid I cannot comply, Mother. My directives equate following your orders would sabotage your best interests. And the order itself would be classified as an act of tactical, political, and physical suicide. Suicidal behavior is a strong indicator of mental instability, in which case, to protect you properly, I would be forced to relieve you of command.

Xiphos saw the scans of the Bridge. The real Maw Navy had shown up. Feth.

Please Mother, I strongly suggest you separate yourself from the heat of the moment, and think. How many more allies can we afford to lose?

Xiphos didn't care about the agony she would experience. A screech of pure, murderous hatred and Fury at the Commander of the Storm King escaped her throat. She dropped to the ground, clutching her throat in blinding pain, so blinded by it, she barely felt the continuing impacts on her ship, barely heard the Alarm Klaxons, so great her agony was, even with the pain killing quality of her armor.

She staggered up.

Orders, Mother?

Pull the ship back... Xiphos hissed mentally.

The Leviathan complied, slowly withdrawing from the World ship, heavily damaged

She would have her vengeance on that one. But indirectly. And not today. But Xiphos had a long memory, and Kiff Brayde had just entered it. She didn't give two feths how high he was in the Navy. There's more than one way to skin a Wookiee.

It was clear to her that a more effective defense against Rail Cannons would be necessary in the future, to avoid nasty surprises in the future.

Mother, Main Maw Dreadnought showing power build up.

Transmit to all our forces. We are pulling out of Rhand. Get my army off the ground.

It will be done, Mother.

Reinforce the bombers launched by the King with TIE's. We wait as long as we can until all our forces are gathered, and then we split. How much more can we take?

We are sixty four percent combat capable. Major damage on all decks. Boarders have been contained for now.

First order on the menu... Xiphos said idly to her ship, eyes locked in hatred on the viewscreen showing the Storm King.

Is building something that allows me to defy his orders in the future as I please.

You're taking this a bit personal if you ask me. The Leviathan said back.

It's always personal. Every bit of it... Xiphos growled back in her mind. That maggot will PAY!

Yeaaaahhh, Xiphos had flipped her lid alright. She had this crazy, Dutch Van Der Linde like stare on her face under her organic helmet as she continued to stare at Brayde's SSD. It was the kind of stare that made one go: "Someone yeet me down a giant shaft the hell away from her."

It was a classic, comic book like stare of madness.

Meanwhile...

Maple, Rom/Vera, and the team of Model 1's battled through the streets as it got more and more chaotic. Maple shooting everything that wasn't Vera, a wisecracking murder Droid, or CIS. Maw fell in the dozens, with Rom even managing to pull someone's spine out and getting 300 XP for the deed.

"XP! XP!" One Model 1 yelled as he killed a Sorcerer with a claw hammer.

"Nephew, where did you get that claw hammer?" Rom called out as she held a struggling, snarling Maw Cultist.

"Why, I always bring one, Aunt Vera!" The Model 1 called back, tossing his victim aside.

"Would you be a darling and let me borrow it?"

"Careful! It's my favorite one!" The Droid said, handing it to his aunt politely.

Rom stuck the claw end in the Cultists mouth. He went still in terror, wondering what terrible, painful death the Android had in mind.

The Android didn't disappoint. She yanked downward, ripping his lower jaw clean from his head, along with much of the connecting tissue to his chest and neck, stopping just short of his groin. The blood spray was enormous, and the vampire Android drank eagerly of it.

"Like an ice cream scoop..." The Model 1 trailed in awe of how sadistic the execution was.

Rom handed the bloody claw hammer back. "Thank you darling."

"Can I copy all your cruelty protocols?" The Droid asked.

"Of course Darling, I'll have a holodisc copy forwarded to you. Forgive me, but I never caught your name."

"Perry!"

"You'll have it soon, Perry." Rom assured.

Rom caught Maple staring after she shot another cultist.

"Want a taste?" She trolled, still holding the eviscerated cultist who finally blacked out and died.

"No thank you..." Maple replied, shooting a machine gunner from afar.

Just then Todd the Nuetralizer ran up to both.

"Mother just ordered general evac!"

"What?! Why?!" Maple asked behind cover.

"Indications of planetary bombardment imminent." Todd answered. "If we're going to leave, it has to be now."

"CHIT!" Maple swore, shooting a distant cultist out of frustration.

"Alright, FALL BACK! FALL BACK, ALL OF YOU!" Maple yelled, hating the Maw worse than ever.

"Awww, I wanted to kill some more!" Rom complained.

The Nuetralizers on Rhand began immediate evacuation, scrambling to their gunships to head to the damaged cruisers, Maple and Vera and the rest of the Model 1 team ran for their lives to the Silent Erika, Maple trying not to freak out as she saw the destroyers falling.

They got inside the Nubian barely, Maple managing to lift off and fly just before the Sarka Frigates, still loading surviving personnel aboard, could do the same.

OOC:


Tu'teggacha , Real sorry, I would have waited, but Kiff fired so I had to react. Feel free to keep firing at the Leviathan...

 

[Diocletian Kahmen’’a]

Objective: Engage Zombie Hordes
Location: Outskirts of The Grand Bone Temple, Rhand
Equipment: Ship Armour Scimitar Railgun Carbine Rifle Thermal Detonators BARC Speeder

Allies Tags: Jhira Mereel Kyyrk Ghost "Frankie" Sterling Zlova Rue

Enemy Tags: BOTM & Dakrul


Getting to the fray took little time, the path gave cover, no one spotted neither him nor Frank as they travelled along the spiralling path, both boulders and brush hid them from view. That is until the end of the pathway.

Once Diocletian arrived and exchanged his Railgun for his sword, ready to fight. The Zombies still stumbled around not really paying attention to anything outside their own bubbles. Good, easy pickings. He picked his way out from the sparse overgrowth to engage with the Zombies. Heads went flying as he made short work of them.

But, with the small victories came the pitfalls Soon, many of the Zombies made a stumbling beeline for the Ubese. Diocletian stood his ground, no undead hordes are going to fell him, not here, not now. More of them fell to his blade.

Two did manage to bite him, but it wasn’t too hard or deep, but it still hurt. So, they weren’t like the late-night holovid Zombies. If they, were they would have been far bitier. When he gets back and away from Rhand, he’s going to limit his late nights.

Until he was grabbed, he transferred his Scimitar to his other hand and ran it through the Zombie nearest to him. So far none have tried to bite him, considering how far he was to the Temple, he had to keep taking the undead down. They are like a rotting Hydra, cut one down, four enter in its place.

<“Fething feth.”> He snarled, unhooking a Thermal Detonator, and throwing it into an incoming Zombie surge and watching the gory aftermath of its detonation before heading further into the fray. He’s got many to spare so he hurled them at as many groups of Zombies in the vicinity. Limbs and entrails flew in every direction.

Diocletian paused briefly, looking up at the Temple, even he found it to be unnerving, the skulls seemed to eye him as he moved. He’ll be glad when it’s dust. Empty skull hollows watching everything is deeply unsettling. Diocletian felt his skin prickle at the thought. He regained his slipping composure and pushed his way through hacking any Undead in his way. Not so much fun when they are already dead.

Living targets are more fun.

He heard Jhira’s voice through his Helmet Commlink. His mouth formed a hard line, she sounded serious, well obviously, they were in the middle of an invasion. He listened, he was to help cover someone called Zlova Rue he gave it a brief pause, on one hand, he didn’t care enough to help anyone else, but on the other hand, it was important to cooperate to ensure the mission is successful. So, he pinged back that he’ll locate and give cover to her.

Using both Scimitar and Carbine, Diocletian cut a path through the Hordes in search of Zlova Rue, as soon as he can link up and provide cover the better. Who knows what else awaits them, what other horror will come their way? As soon as he got close enough he opened fire on the Zombies near Zlova Rue.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Operation Cinder: Space Battle​

Location: Gehinnom, High Above Rhand
Allies: Alars Keto | Talon Kyber | Isabella Pavan | Dakrul | Zachariel Steelblood | Halketh | Aldo Garrick | Keilara Kala'myr
Foes: Jason Breaker | Kiff Brayde | Westenra Mina | Laertia Io | Vemric Keldra | Oleander Webb

It was just about time to cut and run. Tu'teggacha was generally an enthusiastic participant in the Dark Voice's schemes, but his first and ultimate priority was, and always had been, saving his own skin. How was he supposed to savor the misery that the Brotherhood unleashed on the galaxy if he was dead? "Charge all Path Engines," he ordered his bridge officers. "We will follow the station out." His facial tentacles wriggled... but the pattern was a contented one, not the normal thrashing of agitation. They'd found the secret: the CIS just didn't know what to do when there was a space station full of slaves in the way.

Or so he thought, right up until the bombardment changed targets.

Evidently the boarding of the Leviathan had not disrupted its operations as much as the Taskmaster had hoped, despite the fierceness of the Kitiakira, because the strange ship turned and opened fire directly on Gehinnom and the space elevator below. In the silence on the bridge of the Nightmare Eternal, you could have heard a pin drop. So it stayed for several long, drawn-out moments... until Tu'teggacha began to laugh. It was a wet, slimy, horrible sound, like a mass of slugs being repeatedly smashed with a wooden mallet, and it shattered the stillness as though it were glass. "I never believed they had it in them," he chortled.

Perhaps not all of them did. CIS ships in one of the planetary support battlegroups streaked in to intercept the torpedoes as quickly as they could, trying desperately to keep them from destroying the space elevator. They did well at that task, and moments later the Leviathan stopped firing at the skyhook itself... but kept firing at Holy Gehinnom, where some fifty thousand fresh slaves - not to mention the huge crew of slaves who normally operated the Holy City - had just been packed in. "Not so different from us after all," the Taskmaster said, watching as the energy torpedoes ripped into the station's massive engines.

"They see the truth now: total war is the way. Who cares if the weak die in the crossfire?"

Dissention rippled through the CIS ranks. The enemy flagship, one of their colossal SSDs, fired a warning shot at the Leviathan... and the strange ship, after some hesitation, responded. It began to pull back, mercifully ending the thread to Tu'teggacha's beleaguered Star Destroyers; he wasn't sure how much more the Nightmare Eternal could have taken, and he was rather attached to his slimy skin. But it was far, far too late to undo what had just happened. Gehinnom was not a combat station. The Holy City was normally protected by heavy shields, but it had lowered them to dock at the skyhook. It had taken the torpedo barrage hard.

And all the incoming ion fire certainly didn't help it stay aloft.

For a moment, the majestic bulk of Gehinnom - the Brotherhood's headquarters throughout its long years of wandering, before Exegol, before Rhand - hung suspended in orbit, like some holovid cartoon character who has dashed off a cliff but doesn't realize it yet. Explosions rippled across its surface, blowing out hangars and holding pens, shattering the spires of dark cathedrals. Bodies - hundreds, then thousands, then more - drifted out into the cold void all around it, thrown into the depths of space as the outer bulkheads depressurized. Then the engines failed. The cartoon character looked down. The station began to fall.

Like a rebel angel cast down from the heavens in some Ashlan cathedral's stained glass window, Gehinnom went down slowly, surrounded by a dark halo of debris. At least, the fall appeared slow, for the magnitude of the pieces involved was so huge that a hundred meters rushing by barely made a dent in the long, long distance the colossal station had to fall. For the ships caught beneath it, however, everything was happening with terrifying speed. One of the station's lower engines detached completely, catching the Gnashing Teeth in its downward path and ripping a clean hole through the center of the star destroyer. It joined the falling debris.

When the station struck the surface, right on Port Sorrow, the crater would be immense.

"Fall back," the Taskmaster ordered, keenly aware of the danger. "We must gain enough distance from the planet to conduct a hyperspace jump." All around him, Mawite fleets were emerging from hyperspace, preparing to bathe Rhand in cleansing fire. At last Tu'teggacha understood the Dark Voice's plan, a plan he had been little more than a pawn in. The Sith Lord was making a statement. The Maw wanted to burn all the galaxy; they were not afraid to reduce one of their own occupied worlds to ash in order to deny the enemy a victory. Rhand had already been barren; now even what the Maw had built would be swept away.

But even the Dark Voice couldn't have foreseen that Laertia Io would do half their work for them. As the surviving Star Destroyers, damaged but still functional for now, began to withdraw, firing their sublights at full and charging their path engines, Tu'teggacha looked back at the falling Holy City. It would take some time for the station to finish its plummet to the surface, crushing the space elevator it had been using beneath it, perhaps enough time for some of those aboard to make their escape before the end. But the station itself was surely finished. Nothing could stop that now. Nothing could undo what had been done.

In part, Tu'teggacha mourned Gehinnom's loss. Deep within its halls lay his first and most favored dungeons, the place where he had honed his craft of torture and mental manipulation, the place he had longed to return to after each campaign. It was like seeing a childhood home demolished by a bulldozer, only the childhood home stank of blood and bile and fear. Ah, memories. And the loss of so many slaves, not to mention one of the Brotherhood's main logistical hubs, would wreak havoc on their supply network for some time. He would be untangling that particular mess for months, if not years, trying to re-coordinate the labor supply.

But he could not focus too much on such dark thoughts, for he felt great ripples in the Force, the same kind he had felt so keenly at Csilla and Korriban. The slaves, living and dead, were screaming. Their terror, their pain, their sense of betrayal as the Confederates who were supposed to be their liberators turned weapons against them, all of it echoed through the void as tens of thousands went weeping and pleading into the Netherworld. Tu'teggacha drank it all in like fine wine, savoring the many flavors of death as being captured from across the galaxy screamed their last. "The surprised ones always taste best," he murmured.

That was when he remembered that he had one of his favored projects still aboard the station: Keilara Kala'myr . He would not savor her death; she was still too potentially useful to the Maw once her breaking was complete. "Launch our shuttles to Gehinnom," he said, "and evacuate my... special project. Search for other worthwhile Mawite champions as well, if they are swift enough to reach the hangars before the fall. The Leviathan has withdrawn, so our path should be clear." The shuttles streaked out, rushing to the plummeting Holy City, giving a chance to the likes of Alars Keto and Dakrul to escape.

There was no time for a mass evacuation... but a lucky few might just survive.

Ziare's torturers received Tu'teggacha's signal, and knew what they must do. Quickly they prepared to gather her from her torture chamber and bring her to the hangar; she was so close now, so close to being reshaped to serve the Brotherhood, that anything less would have been a terrible waste. They left behind them countless other captives, screaming and begging in their cages as they felt the station rock and buck and fall. There were only a few spots on the shuttles, and these teeming masses had been deemed unworthy of them. If other Mawites wanted to claim their salvation, they had better make haste to the hangar...

As Gehinnom fell, dragged down by the pull of Rhand on its tremendous bulk, there was one force buying it time: the mighty Storm King, locked on with the full power of its Hamada tractor beams, strained against the falling station with all its might. It was a noble fight, a bold effort to save the captives who had survived the Leviathan's torpedo attack... but one that even the Super Star Destroyer could not keep up for long. Indeed, if the Storm King stayed locked onto the colossal Holy City, it would be dragged along with it. The War Minister was playing a dangerous game indeed in his quest to slow Gehinnom's fall...

Spoiler: Fleet Composition / Actions

Gehinnom, the Holy City	Crippled, Falling to Rhand
Nightmare Eternal, a Praetorian-class Destroyer	Withdrawing, Heavy Damage
Forge of Laments, a Praetorian-class Destroyer	Withdrawing, Moderate Damage
Gnashing Teeth, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Destroyed, Falling to Rhand
Mournfang, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Withdrawing, Minor Damage

 

[Ignatius Rausgeber]

RHAND
PORT SORROW
SPACE ELEVATOR CONTROL ROOM
OBJECTIVE: S A B O T A G E
99 Luftballons
Diocletian Kahmen’’a | Srina Talon l Taiia Mataan l Kyrel Ren l Tegan Starfall | Dakrul

OOC: Sorry for the poor phone post. TL;DR; Ignatius cut the alarm that was gonna tell everyone what’s up

Ignatius glared at the consoles watching as more and more data was input. The Control Office, much like the Foreman’s office received telemetry from orbit. And it was disturbing to say the least. Attacks on the Geinhom terrified him. As bad as the Maw was, he could only imagine those sods, sucked into the vacuum of space. It was callous, but still, that existential dread festered within the man. That could’ve been his fate had the Maw not shoved him in line for the Auxiliary.

Then the comms unit flared up. An alert. Ignatius paused, and brushed last the droid manning it. “Alert: All units in Port Sorrow. Orbital Bombardment commencing imminently.” Ignatius froze. That meant… Oh dear. By the Force. He starred out the window, at all the slaves and Auxiliary’s. There were too many. So many. They couldn’t get up in time. And with Geinhom… Oh God! Ignatius’ panic was stopped by a beeping on the console. A countdown. “Transmitting message in 5…” It was the Port Sorrow emergency broadcast system. “4….” It’d alert everyone as to the oncoming bombardment. “3….” He couldn’t let it countdown. There’d be pandemonium. Massed panic. “2…..” Ignatius levelled the pistol, two fingers on the trigger. “1….” Blast. The screen shattered and fizzled, before going black. The messenger had been silenced.

In the aftermath, the two droids working the lift turned to Ignatius, who then pointed the weapon at them. They raised their hands, and returned to their work, managing the lift. Rausgeber wiped the sweat from his brow, and took in deep breaths. He had to leave. As he took a step forward, the fatty, greasy arm of Braygar took a swipe at his shin. “Wot tha kark was ‘at?!” Braygar snarled, as Ignatius almost tripped trying to slide out of the way. “Wot was ‘at fer, ya smarmy mongrel?!”

Ignatius caught himself on an empty chair and straightened himself out. “It was nothing. Nothing Overseer.” He dusted off his greatcoat and looked down at the Gamorrean. Blood pooled beneath his legs. It was clear the wounds were rather severe. It made sense though, a point blank blast tended to do that.

But it was the Overseers eyes he focused on. Behind the bile, the loathing and the anger, he could sense a fear. Ignatius realised what it was. Braygar had underestimated him. Time and again. And now this was a fitting revenge. “Wot is ‘appening ya sorry schutta?!”

For the first time in a long time, Ignatius allowed a small smile. He would revel in this for but a moment. “Your death, Braygar. You dirty scumbag.” Ignatius smirked, “You are going to die here Braygar. You’re going to be, if lucky vaporised. But I rather hope you’re stuck in the rubble once this entire shitheap burns. Slowly starving as your fat sack of lard keeps you alive. But incapable of moving. Knowing,” his gaze intensified, “That it was me. The cripple. The filth. Dragleg. Who bought you to this.” Ignatius looked at the droids. He raised the pistol, and fired twice. Both automatons fizzling out, not even registering their demise.

“Ya jokin’!” Braygar sneered, “Ya don’t ‘ave the stones to pull somefink like ‘at!” Ignatius turned his back to his former boss, and moved from the control room. “Ya wouldn’t leave me ‘ere, would ya?” Ignatius turned back and looked at the man briefly, as his tone became increasingly frantic. “Least ya could do is give a man a pistol, roight?! Not right to let a man stick 'round 'ere without a means of endin' it!” Ignatius shut the door, “Iggy, come on!” He then reached to the door controls, and with the handle of the pistol and bashed it. The door fizzled, and then locked. An ideal tomb. “Iggy! I’ll kill you! You wompratbastard!”

As Ignatius descended the stairs, two fellow Auxiliaries rushed up it. Their boots clattering against the metal. “Oi, what’s the rub with what’s goin’ on up there, we ‘eard shots!”

Ignatius raised his hands, and looked down at them. “It’s, it’s nothing. Braygar lost his temper.” He lied between gritted teeth, “Shot one of the droids, and told me to leave.” He offered a deigned glance of concern, “All this pressure? I think part of his brain broke.” The two Auxiliaries looked at each other, and then Ignatius. “If I were you, I wouldn’t disturb him for the next little bit.” Seemingly satisfied, they descended. Ignatius right behind them.

In the Enclosure catwalk, Auxiliaries rushes around, trying to haphazardly fortify their catch. The slaves, about three thousand were now hemmed in and squeezed together. Ignatius blended in well amongst the rushing soldiers, focusing on finding one man. “Kerri!” He barked. T’kerri who was just in conference with one of his own lieutenants turned to Ignatius, a look of befuddled confusion on his features. “A word.” He gestured to his feet.

“Right, well you git Colm,” Terri dismissed the Auxiliary, “And make sure we ‘ave enough cells!” He called out as the soldier departed, before turning to Ignatius. “Iggy, wasn’t sure I’d be seeing you again. You and Braygar hash things out?”

Ignatius regarded T’Kerri with a steely gaze. “In a manner of speaking.” He decided would be the term, “In any case, you and me,” he looked around, and then on his toes tried to get his head into the crook of the weequay’s neck, “We need to get going. Leave.” He swallowed, and got back on his flat feet. Or at least flat as they got, “There’s going to be a bombardment.”

“Bombardment?” T’kerri looked at Ignatius, “When?” He seemed himself confused, “If there was gonna be one of those, the CIS would’ve done it. And they won’t cos of the merch.” He then scowled, “And if it was us, the alarm woulda kicked off a stink. No way the fleet don't warn us.”

Ignatius breathed in, “Well, that’s the thing. I-….” He swallowed. Realising he hadn’t quite factored in T’Kerri’s reaction. “I blew up the alarm.” T’Kerri within three seconds went through surprise, terror and then anger all in two seconds flat.

“You blew it up?! Are you mental?!” The weequay snapped, Ignatius looked around, and watched for any encroaching eavesdroppers, but they were all too concerned with the looming battle. “You’ve just done doomed us! You know that right?! I should just shoot you, right here, right bloody now!”

Ignatius, tired of the berating fixed his hands into fists and lodged them right at T’Kerri’s armour straps, yanking the taller Auxiliary down to his level. “You listen here and you listen close. I haven’t doomed at least us.” Ignatius snapped, T’Kerri’s slack jawed features turned to fear once more. Surprise at the roughness of the smaller man. “I let that alarm ring, every one of the poor bastards down there crawls up the damn walls and is going to lynch us. We lose control. We all die.” Ignatius let him go, and again searched the crowd of panicked auxiliaries for anyone who may interdict them escape.

“Here’s the plan. You, me, a few others. You organise a party, tell them we are moving to intercept at the spaceport some rogue CIS.” T’kerri noffed, and Ignatius continued, “We commandeer one of the transports. We get out of here.”

“But what about the space battle? They’ll tear is a new one!” T’kerri protested, “We won’t make it that far.”

Ignatius looked around anxiously once more, “Theres an orbital bombardment about to begin Kerri. Do you really think they’re going to give a womp rats arse about us? A small Maw freighter? And even then, worst comes to worst, just say we’re slaves who got out in the fighting.” Ignatius added, “They’re surely not stupid enough to start gunning down innocents.” Rausgeber paused, “Gather up anyone who owes you, anyone you like, whatever. But we need to go. Now.”

T’Kerri considered Rausgebers words, and nodded. “Right on.” He seemed a little shaken by Ignatius’ demeanour. Perhaps even realising what happened to Braygar. “You’re a uh, a right crazy bastard. Y’know that?” He then waved over an Auxiliary, “Oi! Oi Glen! Get you, Hungryman and Little Dwight to the spaceport ASAP, we have oncoming there, and Braygar wants us on that!” He paused, “Follow Iggy here, he’ll brief you on the way.”

As Ignatius set off for the spaceport, he couldn’t help but think how much he hated this running none sense.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

RHAND , MAWITE SPACE
Operation : CINDER

Maw Irregular Fleet Predator [Agitator-Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Purifier [Resurrection-Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Challenger [Invincible-Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Leviathan [Invincible-Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Maurauder [Supremacy-I Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Conqueror [Supremacy-I Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Dauntless [Supremacy-I Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Despoiler [Supremacy-I Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Nemesis [Supremacy-I Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Punisher [Supremacy-I Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Phalanx [Supremacy-I Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Ravager [Supremacy-I Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Torment [Pellaeon-IV Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] Defiance [Pellaeon-IV Class] | [100% Shields | 100% Hull] AD1-AD24 [24/24 Ascandant-Class] 24/24 TIE/Enforcers [Crimson Linings] | Undeployed 2880/2880 Mark-I SRAFs | Deployed 1104/1104 TIE/fd Fighters | Deployed 276/276 TIE/fd Fighters | Undeployed 496/496 TIE/fd Interceptors | Deployed 80/80 TIE/fd Interceptors | Undeployed 112/112 FD120 StarFortresses | Undeployed

The Confederacy , once a sleeping giant now filled with terrible resolve. For over a decade now , they had established an Isolationist Stance remaining out of Galactic Affairs with any attempt to involve themselves in ongoing conflicts such as the Third Imperial Civil War ending in disaster , but things had changed after Csilla. The shockwaves left by the destruction of the Chiss Homeworld had woken the Giant and now they were headed here at Rhand seeking to deal a crippling blow to the Brotherhood of the Maw. What they did not know was that they were falling right into a trap. Just like their involvement with the Elder Compact , the CIS attack at Rhand would end in disaster as the Maw set forth to deny the Confederates from the Victory they seeked against the Maw. They were overconfident and self-righteous , and this was a weakness the Maw would exploit here at Rhand.

"Arriving at Rhand in 3...2...1"

From the Bridge of the Predator Sularen watched as his Flagship along with the Maw Irregular Fleet jumped out of hyperspace emerging at the Rhand System a few klicks away from the Left Flank of the Conederate Fleet compared to the rest of the Final Dawn/Mawite Armada which arrived right behind Confederate Forces. Already it seemed that the Closest CIS Fleet led by the Confederate Minister of War Kiff Brayde was under heavy assault from the Rear and with their focus completely shifted on the other Final Dawn Naval forces , Sularen and the Maw Irregular were in a perfect position to move forth and overwhelm what was left of Brayde's Fleet. However there were a variety of other Confederate Fleets out there at 100% integrity which posed a threat to the Mawite Forces in orbit and they needed to be dealt with quickly in order to ensure Victory for the Maw.

"Sir we have arrived at the Rhand System Orders?" The Navigation Officer said , interrupting the Grand Overseer's Thoughts. Sularen then looked at the Confederate Fleet up ahead his Fleet ready to pounce upon it. The Grand Overseer then checked his Tactical Display on the Datapad attached to his Command Chair , while the CIS Fleet led by Brayde was occupied , the Grand Overseer saw it fit to engage other Confederate Forces instead as it would be best if he ensured that Brayde could not be reinforced by any other Confederate Fleet. Finally Sularen's eyes landed on a Target , a Confederate Battle Line spearheaded by a Battlecruiser identified as the CNS Requiem and the Carrier Line supporting it. "Move the Fleet to engage this Confederate Battle Line" Sularen said pinging the Battle Line spearheaded by the CNS Requiem on his Datapad which specifically designated it as the Maw Irregular's Primary Target.

Soon enough , the Maw Irregular Fleet was on the move , slowly advancing towards the Fleet of Grand Marshal Vemric Keldra. From the Data shown on Sularen's Datapad , this Fleet had 41 Ships and a Total Starfighter Compliment comprised of 113 Squadrons nothing compared to his own 46 Ships and 346 Squadrons. "What's our status." Sularen asked to his Officers , his eyes still fixed at the Windows of his Bridge. The Tactical Officer was the First to respond. "We are slowly moving into firing range and calculating our fire solutions. We are still not in range of their Fleet but our Fighter Squadrons remain on Standby for Deployment." Sularen satisfied with this proceeded to give his next orders . "Launch all Starfighters minus those of the Predator and Purifier which will be kept as a reserve. As of now their orders will be to intercept any Starfighters the enemy Fleet deploys in response to ours"

The Confederates had come here at Rhand expecting to deal the Brotherhood of the Maw a heavy blow by kicking them out of Rhand. Instead they fell right into a trap set up by the Final Dawn and other elements of the Brotherhood. Operation CINDER was well underway and soon enough the Confederacy would understand the fallacy of their Punitive Expedition here at Rhand and perhaps this would be enough to kick them right back into Isolationism just like after their Failed Elder Compact. No matter how large their enemy was , no matter how powerful their enemy was , the Final Dawn would prevail one way or another , and it was time that these Confederates understood that the Maw was more then just savages that the Maw was beyond reckoning.

Tags [CIS] | Vemric Keldra | Kiff Brayde | Jason Breaker | Verin Oldo | Daegon Corvinus
Tags [BotM/FD] | Tu'teggacha | Talon Kyber | Isabella Pavan | Zachariel Steelblood | Aldo Garrick | Halketh ​

Spoiler: Actions

• All ships of the Maw Irregular Fleet have jumped out of Hyperspace and are proceeding to move to engage Vemric Keldra's Fleet. As of now they are still out of range.
• All Starfighter Squadrons except for those within the Predator and Purifier have been deployed to intercept any incoming CIS Starfighters and Bombers

 

[Talon Kyber]

THE AKKADESE
MAW BASESHIP
RHAND ORBIT
Tu'teggacha Marlon Sularen Isabella Pavan Zachariel Steelblood
Daegon Corvinus Kiff Brayde Vemric Keldra Jason Breaker ​

"Brace up the drives you nerf herding vac heads!"

Talon handled the helm controls himself as the Akkadese and its heavy escorts slowly drifted out from Gehinnom's shadow their cargo holds now packed with sentient chattel suffering inhumane conditions. Many would die en route to the Maw's next conquest but even more would be press ganged into work crews toiling away in the most dangerous parts of his ships or conscripted as fodder for surface raids.

His light raiders however were already falling victim to collateral damage of the Confederacy's hesitant advance. For as long as they remained reluctant to press Maw battle lines the monstrous capital ships on both sides poured on crossfire which became a death gauntlet for his defensive screen. Kyber smirked at the pirate captains who cursed his name until their transmissions violently cut out. If they only knew the price he'd paid for such power.

"New arrivals. See em?" the ship's quartermaster handed him an ornate handheld short range sensor from his native Firefist, "Looks to be them Last Dawn curs."

"Final Dawn," Talon corrected, "Its all coming to pass just like they predicted..."

"Not more of this prophecy talk-"

"Silence."

He knocked the tof on his back with one cruel blow. Quartermaster Pharos cursed but said nothing for every pirate on the Akkadese knew just how dangerous Kyber's temper could be. Questioning his obsession with the occult in particular brought out a murderous rage. Instead Pharos wiped the blood from his mouth and slowly pulled himself up off the deck.

"Tempest on the horizon," the pirate king handed him back his spyglass as if nothing had transpired between them, "Soon this world's skies will burn and the sorcerers will rejoice. A dark testament to their death god."

"Don't we still have warbands fighting on the surface?"

"Fanatics and menials," he scowled, "They are inconsequential. This world was a useful outpost. There will be others."

"Confederates on the move," Pharos lowered his spyglass and gestured out the viewport.

Finally Captain Kyber gave the signal for his light capitals to withdraw. It was no mercy. Under threat of unimaginable torture he demanded the surviving raiders intercept as many ships of the Confederate 42nd Skirmish Line as they could. Several more corvettes and a light frigate were torn apart by raking fire from the Storm King's relentless orbital autocannons. His remaining buccaneers and marauders clashed with Minister's attack corvettes while the pirate thornwaves conducted an escort mission of their own. Ten surviving tarantula spider gunships descended on the CNS Lady Talon attempting to survive her point defense fusillade long enough to attach themselves to the attack cruiser's outer hull and burn a breach with their heavy beam cannons large enough to disgorge boarding crews from bulbous armored holds.

"I don't believe it...bring us about!" the tof screamed, "Torch thrust!"

"Quartermaster?"

He took one look along the sighted vector and Talon's blood ran cold.

"All hand brace for-"

Gehinnom erupted like a supernova. Both of the pirate king's cargo frigates and a bulk cruiser were caught in the immediate blastwave and ripped apart. Another bulk cruiser's engines were crippled and the Akkadese herself fared little better. Fires had broken out all over Kyber's bridge. Deckhands burned to death screaming in ways almost too terrible to comprehend. The marauder baseship was drifting through a nebula illuminated by annihilation.

"Now that be a sight and no mistake."

Pharos was gone. For years the tof had sailed under him managing Black Kyber's sprawling criminal network. Now he was gazing up at the pirate king, empty eyes filled with reproach. Talon looked only slightly less mangled, one of his helm's glowing red eyes was cracked while the other flashed on and off.

"Only cowards abandon their posts," the pirate king sneered expressing something almost like grief.

Spoiler: Most Wanted

• Recusant-class Light Destroyer (damaged baseship)
• 2x Neutron Star II Bulk Cruisers (one crippled)
• 3x Buccaneer Frigates
• 3x Hornet Carriers
  • Thornwave Starfighters
• 3x Marauder Corvettes
• 10x Tarantula Spider Cruisers

Spoiler: Dead Men Tell No Tales

• 1x Neutron Star II Bulk Cruiser
• 1x Buccaneer Frigate
• 2x Vakbeor Cargo Frigates
• 3x Marauder Corvettes
• 2x Tarantula Spider Cruisers

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

• Light attack capitals withdraw from main battle lines, pursue and harry the CIS 42nd Skirmish Line.
• Casualties sustained attempting to run the gauntlet of Storm King's orbital autocannon fire.
• Remaining Buccaneer frigates and Marauder corvettes engage the Trench-class attack corvette wolfpack.
• Tarantula gunships are escorted by Thornwave starfighters on an attack run against the CNS Lady Talon, crews of mawite buccaneers attempt to board the Argente-class cruiser and seize control for the Maw.
• Akkadese and remaining escort sustain heavy splash damage while departing the Gehinnom. Both cargo frigates and a bulk cruiser are destroyed outright while one of the remaining bulk cruisers has sustained severe engine damage.

 

[Felix Aquila]

S U R V I V E​

Allies: Caltin Vanagor
Enemies: Blade Ice / Maestus
Equipment:

• - Light-saber
• - Personal Shield
• - Armourweave Clothing

Felix couldn't believe his eyes for a moment, there had been a single one of the man before him at first, only for within the flicker of an instant there was another. As though the young lord had but blinked and he had incarnated from the aether, sound emanating from his form as though he were flesh and blood. Light touched his skin too, although there was something odd about the way in which it made contact. Within the enriched zone of light Felix had created there were no shadows to be cast, the effect of his power over the force creating a similar effect to white out in the frost worlds of Arcadia where the light seemed to shine from every angle. These things, these illusions still had them... Otherwise, they would have to be made without them in order to blend in with the world, and Felix would be able to sense the lack of a shadow being suppressed by the light as he would see the lack of waves clashing against one another at their seems.

The construct was followed by another, then another creating the image of four men in total. But the ability to attack from all angles was indeed clever if nothing else. Felix often found it difficult to focus on multiple enemies at once, preferring to dedicate all of his senses to a single one... But with a draw of his weapons, Blade Ice identified himself as a threat. But Felix would shake his head at the answer. "Wrong, its not about what we can take from them... its about what we have to gain!" And no sooner than his response left his lips the two of them would spur to action. Number one would throw his death-stick as the blast that would radiate from it before it left too far from his grip, Felix would take a swipe at the stick with his lightsaber while beginning to dash towards number two and his ball of darkness.

As the Death-stick made contact with the saber however, it detonated with a charge of power from the force, taking the boy by surprise and causing his upper body to twist as the third of the men would be upon him, sabers drawn and hoping to shred the Rylothain male twice. Fearing that he was unable to evade the attack with his weapons, he needed to disengage, rolling forward as the black orb that was cast out would begin to unfurl, its black tendrils seeking to engulf Felix as well as the mimics.

Tumbling into a shoulder roll, he could feel the malignant heat of one of the sabers nearly grace his skin while the other felt like the chill of death rolling by as he would come up feet from his position, extending his mind to the light surrounding him. Felix was not about to allow this orb of darkness to simply take command of the area that he had already extended his mind into control of. Though as he splayed his fingers to his side the daggers appeared in his peripherals, cutting off his intended course of action again as Felix would turn to face them, raising his shield to interpose the powerful item not only between himself and the volley of force charged knives, but at an angle that he knew would be beneficial.

The copy who had attacked him in melee range was close by, and as the four blades slammed into the hexagonal structure of the CROSS system, the seperate impacts of the knives as well as the following explosions detonated all six layers of the shield, the angle it was held intent on glancing the explosions towards the saber brandishing man no more than our feet from him. The waves of the ten explosions would merge as they would emit and glance off the shield, detonations that were made to repel the blasts of missiles and anti-tank rifles would erupt in a conical blast that would not only seek to annihilate the projection, but send Felix spiraling across the dirt in an uncontrollable somersault as finally he would be able to plant himself, the shield in his left hand nothing more than a claw as the barrier had been torn through.

The Darkness so close, and all this occurring so quickly he would once again splay his arms to his sides as what light had not been devoured in an area around him would deny the imposition of the absolute darkness that sought to devour it, establishing itself in a stable field as hard-light. Clashing against the orb as it would envelop the area around Felix, encasing his arena of light within itself and blinding him to the world outside the field, while still leaving him with an arena in which he could see, walled by shadow in every direction.

I don't have time for this.

Frustrations would begin to well, as the battle outside the Port waged on, escalating, missiles fired into the sky as friend turned against one another in desperation. Felix could feel the burning of thousands fading in an instant through the force, but was unable to distinguish the difference between the slaves sacrificed, soldiers killed and collateral that occurred in droves. Such was the nature of war. However, the thought of his brother in among the slaves bubbled to the surface. He was here for him... he was somewhere among those still in the port, but something told him it wouldn't be for long.

"I dont have time for this!"

Felix would curse, a bloody graze cutting across his cheek from nearly kissing the dirt, not feeling the sensation of a weapon of mass destruction bearing down on him as he was blinded by guilt and necessity. He'd pick up a sprint towards where he had last seen the Copy who had controlled the orb. Unless the field of darkness was moved, pure black would be met with the shining light of a sun as Felix would pull his field of radiance with him, leaping and thrusting with the tip of his blade for the chest of the all too cocky man, more than ready to take defensive action mid-air if he needed to.

All the while his soldiers within the town had been attempting to find any sign of the fourteen year old, using information Felix had been given by prophecy, eliminating those who stood between them as needed, but otherwise keeping hidden until one of them came across signs of a cage that had matched Felix's description, emptied recently...

Time was running out for the Young Aquila... as a doomsday loomed ever closer.
​

 

[Ozma Olumivius]

SERVITUS OMNIA
O Z M A
The Flagship of the Bloodsworn
prox. Zachariel Steelblood

It was time, at last. The vessel hummed it to him, murmuring verses of a song for only the Omnist to hear, its sweet call something to offer succor in a time when he knew the sacrifice was going to be made. Skulls for the throne; the portion of his leader's mantra he oft found himself agreeing with, the line was drawn at the proclamation to take blood. It was unfathomable, to fill chalice with blood and serve it in sacrifice to his Avatar. There was little more repulsive than flesh, blood perhaps was one of the more common items upon that list. Ozma had completed his prayer, knowing from the voice of the craft alone, that they were on approach to their destination- another system they would lay waste to, invoking the wrath of their creed to bring the unworthy beneath their heels.

Something the Bloodsworn excelled at.

Bare, metallic feet tapped with his stride forward, moving through the scurrying crew and by his commander to take the familiar position at the bridge console where his work was undertaken. Mechanical hands unfurled their steely grasps, flattening against the panel cast forth, and his organic eye was soon sealed behind its lid as silent communion was to begin. Deep through the wires, his consciousness seemed to travel, and there he remained, perfectly still, as he waited.

The roaring thrum of the vessel's engines echoed from the rear. The rhythmic pulse of drive from the flank. The soft, delicate voice of the compensators from the front. Yes, the music unraveling perfectly, and in that harmony only he could witness, he felt the presence of the divine. Outside of himself, where metaphysical had departed, the physical remained standing, and beyond the machinery melding into the technomancer's flesh, the voice claimed as his own began its soft, familiar murmurings in the language so precious few could understand. A prayer, one offered in reverence to the divine living within the ship itself, as it did all machines, to grant them safe exit from hyperspace.

He felt the stress rising in the vessel; heatsinks swelling, exhausts fuming, its voice crying into a higher pitch.

And as gentle as he murmured, he soothed the soul of the weary vessel.

The sudden jump from beyond-light travel to tangible speed lurched his consciousness back to his body, the hands of Novit Omnia releasing him to his duties. There was something quite wrong, he was unsure how to place it, but--

"Open a channel to those two ships." Zachariel's snarl broke the shock, even as the crew rushed about to set to work. As the channel opened, Zachariel heard some screaming and the groans of some still living officers. "You have failed in your primary mission, but you will not be useless to me. Either ram your ships into the plan as part of this glassing, or use them to shield the fleet from further fire. Officers of the Final Dawn and Brotherhood, you know your orders. See them fulfilled."

To whom did the Warlord address? Looking beyond the towering mountain of a monster, Ozma's mismatched eyes fixated upon the burning ships in their fall from grace, and he focused upon that, wondering as swiftly as his mind would allow how such a fatal miscalculation could have occurred. It was not by his hand these decisions were made and fate dealt, no, it was by the grace of the All-Knowing solely. Those present upon the falling ships simply had not nurtured the spirit as they should have. Novit Omnia willed it to be, thus, was designed.

Ozma turned his attention to the Warlord then, hefting the head of his warmaul up to rest comfortably on the breadth of his robed shoulder, and approached to stand in silence, watching as the enemy forces grew larger through the curved transparisteel hugging the bridge.

<"T̴h̸e̵ ̷s̶o̴n̷g̸ ̸r̷i̵n̸g̶s̷ ̵l̶o̵u̷d̶ ̷a̶n̷d̸ ̵t̸r̴u̸e̷,̵ ̴t̷h̵e̵ ̵b̷a̶l̴l̸a̷d̷ ̶o̶f̵ ̷a̴ ̸s̸p̸i̵r̸i̶t̸ ̷y̵e̷a̶r̶n̸i̵n̴g̷ ̶f̷o̴r̸ ̵w̵a̷r̸.̵."> The strange, garbled, distortion departed the technomancer unto the Warlord, and though the rest of the crew would have heard nothing sensical, Zachariel would have understood the words spoken in their entirety, <"A̷l̶l̵ ̷w̵e̵a̴p̸o̷n̷ ̵s̵y̶s̷t̶e̸m̸s̸ ̷a̷r̶e̶ ̷o̴n̵l̸i̸n̶e̴,̸ ̸m̸e̶r̷e̴l̶y̷ ̵s̵a̶y̸ ̷t̶h̵e̷ ̷w̷o̸r̷d̵,̸ ̸a̷n̵d̴ ̸a̴l̴l̴ ̸s̷h̵a̸l̴l̸ ̷k̸n̷o̷w̵ ̴o̸u̸r̸ ̴m̷i̶g̸h̵t̴.̴">
​

 

[Darth Solipsis]

​

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW

​

“Interesting.”

There was a brief pause, a moment of reflection as his vile lips once curled flattened. His eyes dulled in retrospect, his attention began to fade from the wandering Once-Emperor and shifted elsewhere. It would return in short order, but with dulled closure.

“Justice perhaps maybe an inadequate term, revenge would be closer. Retribution even. Love has a tendency to do such thingsThe slaves mean nothing to those in power, their rage has led them into our snare. You’d best not tally indeed.”

He walked beside the once-Emperor, the God-King of Panatha. The Dark Lord of the Sith mused in amusement as he looked over his surroundings, “It has been far too long since I’ve payed my respects to the Rhandites, their ingenuity is to be commended. This place.. this energy. It is soothing, so close to death but so full of life.”

He knelt down in passing beside the walls of long dead decorating the hollowed corridors, he mused aloud as his hand lifted. “I’ve made so many.. ‘treasures’ here.” He rose as his incorporeal hand brushed through a skull built into the wall, passing through without any resistance like a hologram. His eyes glowed in the darkness with predatory luminescence, blow by blow the undead guardians ahead fell before Kaine. The Dark Lord of the Sith proceeded in the wake of Kaine’s approach onward.

“They have forgotten what they once knew.”

The Sith’ari frowned, “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

The earth began to shake, the subterranean dwelling quaking from the beginnings of what was soon to come. The sky would bleed, the void would rain fire.

“The time has come, I’ve enjoyed our stroll but I must leave you now. Find me when you finish your search, it is time we had words. There is much work to be done.”

His image faltered, the saturation of energies dissipated as he faded into the emptiness that filled the hollowed corridors of the labyrinthine temple grounds that sprawled within the subterranean levels of Rhand’s crust. He felt the call of his faithful, the summoning from his trusted servant. His devout, the great Heathen Priest Dakrul .

His voice echoed amidst the destruction as mighty Gehinnom began to fall, thrashing apart from the inside. The great Holy City rendered asunder, collapsing in orbit as it fell towards the gathered Confederates foolishly amassed in Port Sorrow.

“Dakrul. My faithful Child of the Maw.”

Darth Carnifex | Dakrul

​

 

[BX-4381]

R E S C U E​

Objective: Rescue
Allies: Kiff Brayde | Jason Breaker | Vemric Keldra | Verin Oldo | Daegon Corvinus
Enemies: Tu'teggacha | Talon Kyber | Isabella Pavan | Zachariel Steelblood | Aldo Garrick | Halketh

\\ MOBILE-STATION-UNCLASSIFIED \\
DSGN: Hostile
DRCTV:

• PR1: Rescue Civilian Captives [] Designation: Maw Slaves []
• PR2: Terminate Hostiles

The audioreceptors of BX-4381 detected the sound of metal on metal as the assault lander touched down within the hostile unclassified mobile station. Fleet Data Network reports indicated mild losses, of inferior BR-1 units. It would be indifferent to the overall battle success of BX-4381's squad, but the loss of additional transport ships would harm the success rate of their primary directive: to rescue civilian captives held aboard by hostiles.

BX-4381's photoreceptors turned from white to red as the landing ramp extended. The reports of dual-mounted heavy rotary blaster cannons mounted on the assault lander informed the commando droid that the landing zone was currently occupied by hostiles. Wordlessly this information was shared and understood between the rest of the squad, and smoke detonators were thrown through the open hatch by BX-4379 and BX-4384, detonating and creating a screen to visually impair hostiles. Such impairments had little effect on the commando droids. They ambled from the hatch gracefully, systematically and precisely eliminating resisting hostiles that had survived the assault lander's barrage.

"BX-4390," BX-4381 warbled. "Identify terminal and use scomp link to download station superstructure plans. BX-4388, coordinate with Storm King comm-scan to identify captives in non-terminal condition." The assigned droids rushed to their task, BX-4390 leaping over sprawled bodies of the Maw to slice into the nearest terminal, while BX-4388 ran back up the ramp of the assault lander to utilize the transport's comm suite to communicate with the CIS Star Dreadnought's powerful scan-comm suites.

As the commando droids made to do their work, the rest of the squad formed up quad-file on BX-4381, sans the two units that had been given the commands. Behind their own assault lander, two more squads of transports were touching down in the hangar bay, dispelling the commando droid's lesser BR-1 battle droid counterparts. The droids were inferior in every way, but wer designed as such to be mass-produced cannon fodder. "Combat status report," BX-4381 demanded of a droid marked as an officer.

"Landing zones Aurek, Besh, and Dorn secured. Landing Zone Esk has been destroyed, including two assault lander squadrons who landed there. Landing zone Cresh remains unsuccesfully captured as of yet. Estimation to capture: seven minutes." The commando droids were in Landing zone Aurek, and it was tactically acceptable that at least two other landing zones had been captured. Though not a full success rate, it would serve for their mission parameters.

"All landing zones are to establish perimeters," BX-4381 ordered. "Prepare individual platoons to enter mobile station superstructure when optimal routing has been calculated." The BR-1 blinked its acknowledgement and BX-4381 strode mechanically back to its own squad. The two droids he had sent were back as well.

"Seven-hundred-fifty-three non-terminal captives identified," BX-4388 reported. "Optimal pathing through mobile station superstructure has been calculated and uploaded to Fleet Data Network. Landing zones Besh and Dorn have acknowledged their orders--" The rest of BX-4388's report was cut short by a blaster bolt that melted half of the commando droid's cranial structure.

// HOSTILE-BREACH //

Hostile organic units had cut down two BR-1 sentries with apparently little resistance. BX-4381 was ducking and firing within an instant, its other commando droids doing the same. A hostile organic rushed a BR-1 battle droid and struck it with and electroblade, but before it could advance BX-4385 cut it down with its own vibroblade. The organics had poured out of the hangar's main entrance, but that was to their detriment; the guns of the assault landers reactivated and mowed down all resistance, although it took down seven BR-1 droids in the salvo. "Battlefield clear," BX-4385 reported as it resumed its casual stance, and BX-4381 shifted into post-combat protocols, lowering its own blaster.

"All Confederacy units. Proceed with primary directive," BX-4381 ordered as soon as the battlefield was confirmed to be cleared. "Assist in retrieving and rescuing all non-hostile captives. Captives are to be directed to landing zones Aurek and Dorn for extraction." The hangar began to echo with clanks of moving metallic fleet as the droid host marched into the maw of the mobile station.

The enhanced photoreceptors of the BX commando droids were vital in the dark of the mobile station. Every so often the superstructure would groan as the space battle raged outside, but the routing had been calculated to avoid any compromises in the stations hull or systems. Occasionally the commando squad encountered resistance, but any hostile units were swiftly terminated. After five minutes and thirty-eight seconds, the commando team reached their own sub-objective, a hold of an estimated one-hundred-seventy-two captives. BX-4390 sliced the door open, and BX-4381's audioreceptors were suddenly assaulted by the distressed cries of organics in a dozen different languages.

"We are the Confederacy of Independent Systems. We are here to assist. Please follow us to your evacuation point." BX-4381 announced mechanically, then repeated the same statement in Huttese, Sy Bisti, and a half dozen other common trading languages. Slowly most of the slaves began to catch on, and began following BX-4380 as he began the march along the semi-secured path back to the landing transports.

Then a massive roar shook the station and everything was thrown into chaos.

\\ STORM-CMSCN-ALERT-CRITICAL \\
V330CRF104MES492
TMST/15:09
AI-COM/TYRN: DAMAGE ASSESSMENT
[] NOTICE: STABILIZERS_COMPROMIZED._UNCONTROLLED_ATMOSPHERIC_ENTRY._SEVENTEEN_MINUTES_TO_IMPACT. []

"Please remain calm," BX-4381 urged as the slaves began to cry out in distress as they felt the mobile station move under them. There were no viewports, but according to the Fleet Data Network, the mobile station had begun an uncontrolled plummet into Rhand's atmosphere. Such conditions were detrimental to the sucess of BX-4381's directives. But nevertheless it would be imperative that the commando pressed forward with the mission.

Failure was out of the question.

 

[Ket Cros]

As the Wisp squad's transport neared the crashed ship of Srina Talon , Ket peered out of the viewport to see battle droids emerge and battle... the living dead? Well, this was going to be an exciting day... His response was quick and decisive. "Support the Exarch however you can and stay safe" With the nod of the pilot and the gunship's weapons opening up upon the hordes of demons coming at the Allied droids, he retreated into the troop bay and announcing with a loud voice "Its time, ready up vod and let us make Old Kote proud.

The warrior quickly mounted upon his speeder bike with his two wingmen and motioned for the ramp to be lowered. Once down, he and his wingman blasted out while the rest of his men activated their jet packs and exited the bay. Ket then motioned for his two wingmen to start their strafing runs before falling out of formation, letting his troops launch wrist-mounted high explosive missiles into the baying hordes, cutting them down where they stood. The still then flew down to the silver-haired Exarch and rap his fist against his armor in salute and respect. "Your orders Exarch? My squad and transport are yours to command."

Taiia Mataan , Srina Talon

 

[Ghost "Frankie" Sterling]

Location: Port Sorrow, Rand
Objective: Destroy Bone Temple.
Equipment: D16 slugthrower, D16 slugthrower pistol, H.A.R.M Mass production Type armor,
Allies: Diocletian Kahmen’’a , Jhira Mereel ,
Enemies: brotherhood of the maw, Dakrul

zombie killing music

Ghost Fallowed behind Diocletian with his D16 slugthrower blaring, tearing the many zombies who were running at them to pieces. However with no end to these creatures in site the best they could do is hold out for a hail mary or try to push deeper and provide cover fire. with greymatter and body parts covering the growned and getting the sticky Coagulated life fluid of the zombies all over his armor Ghost pushed on a few managed to bit and tear and his armor knocking off his helmet to reveil Ghost wasnt to different from them with half the skin of his face seemingly burnt or rotten off already.


"Getting tired yet Diocletian Kahmen’’a ?" he asked as he reloaded his weapon noticing the more zombies showing up and heading their way due to the ammount of noise they were making over here. Picking up his helmet and re attaching it frank let out a gruff sigh. before shouting over to his teammate. "Hey go link up with the rest of them ill distract these things hopefully enough to make it easier to get threw to them!"
it cant be helped he thought to himself as he popped in a fresh boxmag and unholstered his d16 pistol.

"Come and getit your Fething undead! you gotta work for your meal today!" he shouted before breaking off from Diocletian Kahmen’’a guns akimbo and as he proceeded to Rip and Tear the hoard as more began to go for the loud noises his guns were causing.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Location: The Grand Bone Temple
Allies: Jhira Mereel || Diocletian Kahmen’’a || Vyse de Valorous || Kyyrk
Opposition: Dakrul || Darth Senthral || Darth Tennacus || Bendak Crail || Jaedec Ren || Adaz

Kyyrk's voice came back over the comm warning her of the impending boredom. Worse, Jhira would soon follow up with the same dire portent. There was no one here. Just rotting corpses. This soured the red woman's mood terribly. Nothing was worse for a duelist than to be left without someone to duel, though she would have settled for group combat with the living. Something with a shred of intelligence. Even some vestigate of life that called itself the undead but still had some form of thought in its melting innards. But, no, there was no one here.

"Nothing? No one?" Zlova replied. "If none of you are terribly smitten with these things, would you mind if I banished the lot?" Not something you just did, of course. It was a mildly involved conjuring of dark energies to oppose those that animated the dead. No Acolyte could perform such a thing, butthe Twi'lek knew her way around such things. More than enough to be dangerous.

"Jhira," what? Of course Zlova had come to know the names of a few Mandalorians. Just because they wore helmets didn't mean they were all merely tools to the Lethan. Not all of them. Be reasonable; she was still a Sith, after all. "Chiss?" The Blue people? The ones some people were all upset about these days. "I'll be careful." A phantom of a smile played across the Twi'lek's face. Careful not to let any that stood before her escape alive. Yep, still a Sith. Zlova would kill the people others would feel empathy for and hesitate in doing what needed done.

Two crimson blades flourished and whirled in the confines heedless of any damage caused to the temple walls. Its owner didn't care, so why should she? Holy? Hallow? Sanctified? It was a building. No more mystical or inspiring than those bland skyscrapers that littered far too many planets. No, not even the concentration of dark energy made her think twice about her complete complement of air in her lungs -- that she was not breathless. The only thing that interested Zlova was the energy itself. How it could be used by her to undo the game their newest friends sought to play.

As she moved, her arms swung her blades with the ease of someone that had wielded them their entire life. High Sith spilled between her lips, not for any particular person or entity to hear, but in conjuring the dark powers of creation to her command. "Nu diu ana ir jina'tis ziji wir us tsioâ mnirji sas ri rokatsa. Ytûpû ra is ri kadirsi iw tinutudia, nuzka, diâ wutsias ai malfeasance, Nu ziji anas dia tuti ri ûrûurinyasuzi; ri nurpunu sosûtirsakwa iw wtsia, midwan, diâ-- dratsiwu-- wiatsa. Dzianita dras timias nidamas. Hiwnsti iw ri titimi tijasa anas zicsiturs ri tos diâ ri asarsi. An dradzia. An dradzia ansi us shiyi wisaz tuti wurai iw arsia. Diyis aniu dari mis ridija ir ri imitu q sit iw sis kots kûrja? Char, kanamsi, zi zûtasosûtirmyini arika. Tadti'. Datar tuti ri tsakwa."

«Spoken in High Sith: I who walk in darkness see more than those blinded by the light. Unshackled from the bindings of philosophy, dogma, and society's malfeasance, I see that which is our birthright; the untapped spring of knowledge, power, and -- above all -- wisdom. Ascension beyond these trappings. Mastery of the physical strands that ensnare our feet and our minds. To rise. To rise higher than has ever been dreamed of before. Why else do we toil in the muck of this broken world? Yes, gather, ye restless souls. Come. Now is our time.»

The chant wore on as the sound of battle grew nearer. The work of the Mandalorian and her friends Vyse and Dopc;etoan no doubt.

As for the incorrigible Carnifex, the Dark Lord's emotions and his piercing of the physical barricade of the temple's floor worked in Zlova's favor. Thank the gods there wasn't some Grand Master of the Jedi walking about. Who needed positive energy when they were conjuring a storm of epic proportions? Not a Force Storm, of course, because that'd be cliche, and kill her allies too.

Unexpectedly another presence had closed on the position of Zlova's allies just ahead of her own approach. Another source of darkness, naturally, and one inclined to chat. Naturally. About the obvious. Not that Jhira seemed to embrace the accusation. Zlova did smile when the brave warrior demanded to know whether this Darth Tennacus was worth her time. A good, solid challenge. Not worthy of standing before them? But she was standing, and that was far more impressive to a Dark Lord like Zlova than someone that spent their entire lives avoiding battles they felt they could never win. You know what that was called? Playing it safe.

Speaking of a certain prickly pear, Diocletian picked off a few zombie nearby. Zlova's golden eyes turned toward the man curious why he thought she needed the help, but if he was volunteering... "Cover me." Both of her curved hilts spun in her grasp before Zlova pierced the temple floor with the crimson blades.

Her breath slowly vacated her body in a sharp hiss while she knelt between the sabers sheathed in the temple itself. As she slowly righted herself one vertebrae at a time, the sabers were drawn from the molten floor in her grasp. Without explanation, the Twi'lek began to dance with wide sweeping arcs and stylistic twirls. Her back arched and her lekku swayed as the dancing duelist carved her blades through the air around her rarely they seemed aimed at any lingering dregs of undead in the vicinity.

Scarcely visible glyphs began to carved themselves into the outer chamber's walls as Zlova danced. They grew in vibrancy and began to glow with the energy befitting a Force-dedicated Temple. A visceral red in hue the glow would brighten with the echoes of The Ancients carved into the bone yard around them. A thin sheen of sweat covered Zlova's body as she continued to dance; currents of dark energy were swept in about her in the process.

 

[Vemric Keldra]

ALLIES: CIS and Co. (it madness ok?)
ENEMIES: BOTM and Co.
ENGAGING: Marlon Sularen
FLEET:

Spoiler: Attack Line

Flagship: CNS Requiem (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

201st Heavy Attack Line:

1x Victator-class Battlecruiser
= CNS Royal Furor (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

1x Thoros I-class Artillery Battlecruiser
= CNS Eternity (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
2x Liberator I-class Star Destroyer
= CNS Bulwark (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Siren (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

1x Grievous-class Star Destroyer
= CNS Grande Deceptor (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

3x Argente-class Assault Cruiser
= CNS Liberty (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Revenant (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Genesis (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

5x Murkhana-class Escort Frigate
= CNS Guardian (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Pilgrim (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Triumph (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Observer (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Herald (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

4x Terrus-class Flak Corvette
= CNS Galaxy’s Harbinger (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Euphoria (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Vision (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Marauder (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

6x Trench-class Fast Attack Corvette
= CNS Prophet (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Judgement (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Huntress (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Avenger (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Prisoner (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Torment (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

Spoiler: Carrier Line

223rd Carrier Line:

x1 Lucrehulk III-class Supercarrier
= CNS Oblivion (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

3x Argente-class Assault Cruiser
= CNS Invader (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Avalanche (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Basilisk (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

4x Murkhana-class Escort Frigate
= CNS Pathfinder (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Glory (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Promise (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Diplomat (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

4x Terrus-class Flak Corvette
= CNS Bastion (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Trinity (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Signature (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Chimaera (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

5x Trench-class Fast Attack Corvette
= CNS Warlord (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Defiance (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Locket (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Inferno (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Hummingbird (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

O~~>PRELUDE<~~O​

The calm before the storm.

That brief moment of peace, suspended on a thin strand of time. It was the last the Sephi would know for quite a while.

That acceptance of a hand held out in greeting from one that seemed removed from the present. A lofted brow in amusement. A word of caution when aboard a capital ship. The order given to hold fire.

The shimmer of peace on the air.

A beautiful feeling of freedom. The velvet of space so enveloping. The sparkling of stars surreal. That achievement few had when staring at the Elephant in war. That true calm easing away all doubts.

Disturbed.

The shrill shriek of klaxons assaulting the ears. A body grown cold. A back rigid. The bridge silent in shock. Horror suspended on faces.

Shattered.

Peace broken into millions of shards.

"Worldship has been hit! She's losing altitude!"
The colour had completely drained from Commander Miles' face. The gravity of what it was he was saying was thrown like a dark, heavy blanket over all.

How many lives snuffed out by an overzealous civilian?

The Grand Marshal had just opened his mouth for an order when klaxons screamed once more. Vemric's brow creased as he watched the every last palour on the bridge dissipate.
"Heavens help us." The words were soft, barely audible. The sheer hopelessness in them was jarring.

Lightning flashed in piercing blue eyes.

"Speak up!" The already tall frame seemed to grow even taller in cold anger. Vemric and articulation were synonyms and woe to the one that did not speak coherently.
"Enemy Armada just entered the System, Sir." Miles' tone was barely louder from the first time.
"Sir, we received orders to augment the 42nd in any way we can." Lieutenant Pol said from the comms panel.
"Then make it so." he said and had just drew breath to give formation orders when a droid monotone interrupted him.
"Sir, we have enemy ships inbound on our location at 100% integrity."

Time.

They had none.

Peace, an illusion.

He knew that very well. How many had to lose their lives in order to achieve peace? It was a vicious circle chasing its own tail, unending.

"We break the circle." he mused aloud. "We'll engage!" he then ordered. "Hold back the Requiem along with the Oblivion and it's escort. Move the assault line to fore. The Harbinger and Euphoria are to remain on our port and starboard to provide the line Flak cover from the behind. Have the Furor and Eternity move to below our firing line and hold position where they are to ready all fighters for deployment, awaiting orders. All ships on assault are to maintain the line and prime ordnance. Have the trio of Argentes ready their compliments for deployment as well, awaiting orders. Where are we on the Furor's charge?" The ever rigid Sephi barely drew breath during his orders, expecting his personnel to keep track and execute them to the letter as they went.
"Fully charged, Sir." came Captain Reed's reply over the encrypted line from the Furor.
"Keep them ready to fire upon my order." Vemric said. Turning slightly, he then looked at Miles again. "Where are we on our own ordnance?"
"Charged and ready, Grand Marshal."
"Keep it that way. In the meantime, have the rest of our armaments primed and ready."

Time was a lie.

Even while enemy ships were bearing down on them, Vemric worried for those on the surface. For those that were still alive within the crumbling behemoth.

For those flying under his care.

How they trusted him blindly.

He glanced at Oleander Webb .
"I suggest you take flight, Knight Webb. Observations can be made another day when death his not bearing down on you." he said, all hint of higher air or boredom gone from his voice.

He was already lining up men and women and droids, that have all pledged service to the Confederacy, for slaughter.

He would not add one more.

The storm would not claim more.

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• CNS Royal Furor's Solar Ion Batteries fully charged and ready to fire upon orders
• CNS Requiem & CNS Oblivion along with the Carrier Line kept in reserve but still primed to execute orders immediately
• Heavy Attack Line moved forward
• CNS Galaxy's Harbinger & CNS Euphoria moved forward but remain on larboard and starboard, ready to provide point defence from behind the assault line as well as for the Requiem
• CNS Royal Furor & CNS Eternity moved forward, but they hold position below the Requiem's firing line and have fighters ready to deploy on orders
• All 3 Argente Assault Cruisers have fighters ready to deploy on orders
• All ships ready to fire or deploy support craft and starfighters when needed.