Invasion Chapter One: Eclipse | Long Live the Empire DE vs GA Coruscant

[Bernard]

Coruscant, Senate Building
Ruins of the Senate Building, atop the Eclipse III
---

[ Fiddle and the Drum ]​

Fellow actors on stage: Creuat

// Veli'ae Ashai // Kyric //​

Related to the storyline: Auteme Darth Solipsis as well as Sahar Thalia Senn

SWORD OF THE JEDI

Nails bit into Bernard's arms, but he barely felt the sensation. The roar of Rhis' fire engulfed his arm and side, burning away at his skin and muscle.

Bernard's expression twisted with pain and exhaustion. His heart hammered against his chest. Every second that passed kept him in excruciating pain as skin gave way and bared muscle gave way to Rhis' fury.

I can't ... lose.

Bellowing against Rhis' dark-infused challenge, Bernard tensed every remaining fiber in his body to crush whatever his hands held onto. He wanted Rhis' heart to stop. He scrambled whatever power was left and redoubled his effort to make that heart stop beating. It didn't matter how much he suffered from the fire, so long as that heart ceased to function it would all have been worth it.

His failure would yield something. Where Rhis had been driven down the path of darkness by his failures, Bernard would carry forth a small sliver of perfection from them. Even if he succumbed to his injuries, he could go into the Light's embrace knowing he'd taken a servant of the Dark with him.

From above, red and green lines broke the clouds and burst into explosions of light against the ship. Its hull shook violently as another barrage rained down on the Eclipse from the ships above.

Bernard lost his footing, his fall only broken by his grip on Rhis' arms. But his hands began to slip, and the Nautolan's nails cut small lines through Bernard's skin as he started to fall free from their struggle.

Stop his ... stop his heart. Bring ... Light ...

Bernard coughed up blood. His vision began blurring, darkness encroaching from all sides. He heaved laboured breaths, feebly clutching at Rhis' arms. Even as the fire continued burning, he thought only about destroying the Dark Jedi. He couldn't fail the light now.

Cannot ... give ... in ...

Rhis' hatred radiated through the haze of numbness even as Bernard struggled to keep sight of him. That burning hatred, fueled by a never ending wellspring of anger, was the last thing the Jedi saw as darkness engulfed him, and his body fell limp against the ship's hull.

 

[Reima Vitalis]

"DUCHESS"
"Revenant Twelve"
"Striker One"
​

Revenant Squadron
Flight Officer Reima Vitalis
10th Sector Armada
Piloting: Jet-Black X-Wing Aether GS-01

LIVE FAST, DIE YOUNG

​

Reima allowed the gunship to idle, pace matched to the Eclipse III's, watching with great interest as the soldiers dropped off and to what as basically certain death. Her fingers hesitated on the control yoke, her shoulder aching, her back and chest like they had been smashed under a the foot of a ronto. She stayed there, eyes darting across the information available to her, both through the viewports and across the scanner readouts, even as @Tulon Kor waved her away and the dash lit up red with warnings that the Aether was the target of anti-air defenses.

Eyes darting left.

Warning tones sounding.

Eyes darting right.

"Reima!" came Max's urgent warning from the rear seat.

Hands flew into action. "Got it," she said, as if she was answering a request to pass the salt, all calm and cool despite the adrenaline thundering through her veins. She threw the Aether into a roll to the left, diving down and under the Eclipse III. "Max, we're going to strafe the surface of that ship. Whatever isn't one of ours? Shoot it."

"Our orders are to bring that ship down," Max reminded her, but she could see on the power readings that he was switching from the anti-capital ship ordnance to the heavy lasers.

"We'll get there soon enough," Reima said grimly. "But Commander Kor is right. No matter how the efforts to evacuate the Senate District went, that ship crashing into this area will kill untold thousands. Probably millions. So -- we will destroy it if we can -- but hopefully we'll do it the right way."

Max paused a beat, glancing out the window, then he sighed. "I got you, Reima."

"I'll bring us in low and tight over the same location. Hopefully low enough to scramble their anti-air. See if you can't cut a path for that beautiful brave bastard," Reima ordered as she brought the Aether around in a graceful arc, weaving between skyscrapers. She increased the speed, racing to match the Eclipse. "This'll be a modified Attack Pattern Phi," Reima said grimly; she felt like she was staring down the barrels of point defense turret on that monstrosity, and her trigger fingers itched, but only Max had access to the weapons systems. "Go... now," Reima snapped, dropping the ship so they were behind the location she had last seen Kor.

Max was true to his word, using his quad cannons to strafe the position with fire, hammering down like so much deadly rain. If Tulan Kor , Thirdas Heavenshield , and Castor E-196 weren't careful, they could get singed -- or worse. Reima flipped the ship into a corkscrew turn so tight it caused little black spots to dance in front of her, but also giving her gunner the ability to focus fire on the anti-air turrets that would hamper other officials.

"Good shooting, Max," Reima enthused into the comlink, the adrenaline buoying her as the the Aether's shields deflected a shower of debris signaling a possible hit. "Prepare for another strafing run. We're going around again."

"Set 'em up and I'll knock 'em down," Max called.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

CORUSCANT | ATMOSPHERE | DE DESTROYER
OBJECTIVE I | ECLIPSE

​

A calloused hand offered Talsin help from the ground. The twins had shared flashes of the scene - and no context was needed to know ho the gravity which the nameless figures held. His pain was a common crop among them, shared through the roots of their meld. Shame and fury were cut away by the sharp knife of empathy. They didn’t get it. Their shared journey had sent them branching out from Talin, where she had sprouted anew on level 1313. Kade’s presence was a fleeting shadow, the blood slicked bar floor a buried memory - but it had fertilized her growth with a hard lesson to learn. Bein’ a hero wasn’t nearly as pretty in action as the stories.

As she pulled him up, their eyes met for a moment, and a wordless sentiment reverberated from Talin’s gaze. They were defenseless, too. The comms officer wasn’t the one who fired the shot, but he was a cog in the Empire. Deadheading the plant would never be enough. You had to pull rot from the root, and burn the remains. Talin would have done what she did again and again, with the spirit of the Wolfpack behind her, if it meant one less person would know grief as Talsin knew now. She’d do it, even if him and her twin weren’t strong enough to stand beside her.

Blaster fire shattered the fragility of the moment. A pack of troopers had appeared from behind the corner, madder than wet hens about what they’d found in the comms center.

“Go!” A hand shoved Talsin towards her sister.

Plasma bolts hissed down the hall in a torrent of covering fire. Jaw clenched, the recoil of the blaster rifle drilled against her ribs, each round a cry of defiance. A moments reprieve was offered as their assailants fell back to cover. The blonde turned again, wild strides sending her hoofin’ to catch up with the rest of Saber. The hangar beckoned at the end of the hall - safety was within reach. The promise of their ships and putting this place behind them drove Talin forward, through each burning huff. They’d get gone alive, and worry about the scars later.

____________________________________________________________
SIDEQUEST SABER SQUADRON ENJOYERS | Tansu Treicolt | Talsin Lota
ENEMIES | OTHERWISE | Dead Imperial Bastard | Badshot Bucketheads
____________________________________________________________​

​

 

[Teket]

Continued from Chapter 3

TAGS: OPEN

​

Teket had felt the strong surge of magic roll through the giant, collapsing city. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before, tempting him into fear, the emotion itching at the back of his mind. But even more than that, the young Ewok was in awe at the sheer power of it. What was it? Whatever it was, he wanted to know more about this power. And he had a feeling he know where he could find it.

He landed and rolled onto the large starship. Large is a massive understatement, he thought as he climbed to his feet. This thing probably could have easily held thousands of Ewok tree-villages, at least. Maybe even more.

He felt before he saw, the battles going on. Magicians were battling it out or something. He was not really sure what was going on, but it was pretty exciting. He found himself a spot where he could hang on and watch as much of the rest of the fights as he could. He was certain he knew who would win, especially after having caught a glimpse of the power. Thanks to it, he was starting to be able to tell which side was which. At least, amongst the magicians, he could.

Once everything was over, he could introduce himself, somehow. He was starting to understand a little of the language they spoke. He wasn't too worried he'd find a way to communicate with them regardless. And he sincerely doubted he would have to do any actual fighting. Much as he wanted to jump in, he knew it would be foolish. He had no idea what any of these people were capable of. He may have been the most powerful Ewok back home, but he could tell he had a lot to learn to reach the height of these magicians here. And he definitely didn't want to get in the way of his future friends and their prey.

 

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | GALACTIC EMPEROR
Galactic Senate
Auteme
Creuat
Sahar
Bernard
Kyric

​

Smoke and rubble. Fires raged around him, casting flickering shadows across the shattered remains of one of the galaxy's most iconic buildings. His face, bruised and bloodied, bore the marks of the fierce battle and the weight of the debris that had buried him.

With a single outstretched hand, Solipsis summoned the power of the Dark Side, lifting the enormous chunks of wreckage that surrounded him. The weight was immense, but his will was unyielding. The debris hovered in the air, pieces of steel, stone, and permacrete trembling as they were held aloft by the empyrean. In his other hand, he clutched his unlit lightsaber, its cold hilt a stark contrast to the heat of the flames around him.

His eyes, burning with malevolent intensity, surveyed his surroundings as he let the wreckage fall behind him. The once grand Senate chamber was now a ruin, a testament to Operation Eclipse. The Dark Lord's gaze shifted around ar his surrounding, on the surface of the massive battlecruiser that now hovered above the city.

The ECLIPSE III, a behemoth of destruction, loomed ominously over the ruins of the Senate Building. Its dark hull was illuminated by the relentless fire from the Alliance forces, blasts of energy impacting its shields in a dazzling display of light. The battlecruiser's guns roared in response, unleashing torrents of destruction where possible.

The Sith'ari could feel the vibrations of the ship's engines and the rhythmic thrum of its weapons through the Force. He allowed himself a moment to savor the chaos, the destruction, and the fear that radiated from the city below. He stepped forward, each movement deliberate and filled with purpose. The fires around him seemed to bow to his will, the flames flickering and parting as he walked.

The Dark Lord's gaze turned to the direction of Auteme .

It wasn't over yet.

​

 

[Minister Janus Vipsanius]

ECLIPSE III
Minister Janus Vipsanius

​

The ECLIPSE III groaned under the relentless assault from the Galactic Alliance forces. Blaster bolts, missiles, and energy beams struck the battlecruiser's shields, causing them to flare brightly with each impact. The ship's armor, though formidable, began to buckle under the constant barrage. Fires erupted across the hull, and internal explosions sent shockwaves through the vessel.

On the bridge, Captain Lothair stood resolute, his eyes fixed on the tactical display. The situation was dire, but retreat was not an option. The orders from Admiral Hamilton and Marlon Sularen had been clear. They were to press on, no matter the cost.

"Shields are failing, Captain!" a pit officer called out, his voice tinged with panic. "We're taking critical damage across multiple decks."

Captain Lothair nodded grimly, his expression unchanging. His orders were clear, and it was now that the true meaning was made evident. "Long Live the Empire," he replied, his voice steady and determined. The crew around him echoed the sentiment, their faces a mix of fear and resolve.

Minister Janus Vipsanius, his earlier confidence shattered, rushed to the escape pods. His eyes darted around in panic as he shouted, "We must abandon ship! This is madness!"

Ignoring the Minister's outburst, Captain Lothair turned to his crew, his voice calm but authoritative. "Prepare for a controlled descent. We may be going down, but we'll take the Alliance with us."

The crew sprang into action, their hands moving swiftly over the controls. The battlecruiser shuddered violently as another explosion rocked the vessel, but the captain's orders were clear. They would not go down without a fight

"Shields are gone!"

"We are taking damage across all sectors!"

"Set a collision course," Lothair commanded. "Target the largest concentration of enemies and prepare to ram them."

The ship's engines roared to life, their power redirected to push the ECLIPSE III into a final, desperate charge. The battlecruiser, now more a weapon of destruction than a vessel of war, began its descent toward the heart of the enemy fleet.

"We lost engines!"

Minister Janus reached the escape pods, his hands shaking as he tried to activate the launch sequence. "This is insanity!" he screamed. "We have to get out of here!"

But the crew was too focused on their mission to heed his cries. The ECLIPSE III accelerated despite its engines having failed, its damaged hull glowing with the heat of re-entry as it plummeted toward the surface.

 

[Auteme]

Darth Solipsis​

For a moment she allowed herself to feel again.

It started with her arm. Something had cut through it, pain lancing along up to her brain. She'd lost her focus -- blacked out for a moment, somewhere along the way, and the threads she'd surrounded herself with went slack. She pulled them together again, wrapping herself in their warmth. Her wounds stitched themselves, bruises faded, but there was a difference between giving and keeping; she could only manage enough to make her body functional again.

Then she felt the thread. Bound by iron, it ran through the debris, snaking along the black hull she now rested on. He was in a similar situation, the both of them brought low by the destruction he'd wrought. But the thread remained, joining them, and she felt the heat rising in her chest as it burned to her core, and she started to rise, chunks of rubble and steel pushed aside.

Then she felt the others. That foolish son of hers, the pain burned into his face now, and Kyric fell away someplace less agonizing, and Bernard who had pushed him to safety now fighting for his life, suffering the same pain, and they were all joined as she was surrounded by the same darkness that left them half-blind.

And further, an old but steady strand went slack, a reliable friend taken suddenly away, a supporting hand removed from her back, and Romi was gone, and she had failed another friend.

And so close, so close she could kiss him on the cheek and tell him everything would be alright and make him a warm meal and read him a story and tuck him into bed, so close she could fly to him, her son Damien-

And she forced herself to burn again, and as she pushed aside those feelings and focused on the burning and cast off every meagre piece of debris that had tried to keep her down, and he stood there. He stood. And he revelled in the chaos, even injured, the delight was written across his face as the shields of his ship were lit aflame, and she wanted every ship in the Alliance to fire right here, right now.

And her gaze burned. Every plan was out the window, all her preparation tossed among the rubble, and she waited no longer. Invisible hands picked up rocks the size of speeders and threw them at him. And she marched closer, knowing it was not enough to stop him, but she had to, because it had to be her. She would accept no one else.

Threads sprung from her body, coiling to grapple him, a thousand attempts to grab and pull him apart, piece by piece, every attack more savage, more desperate. Every loose piece for a hundred feet around was moving one way or another.

She just wanted him dead.

 

[Gress D'ran]

Tag: DARKCOM Nyles Kote​

As the Shield Generator came down, the crew cheered, only to realize something.

They were falling.

Launch a 'Sur'ulur' Recon Probe, full stealth model, see if you can route comms through it. Let him know where we're going to fire. May the force or whatever the shab he believes in be with him now. Tra'cyar mav."

"Sir! Recon probe is trying to hail us!"

"Let them through. It's Nyles!" Gress commanded. "Nyles, this is Gress D'ran. I need you to route a message through to High Command. I've got a plan to get this thing from crashing, but we need to act fast! The Roc is powerful enough to lift the Sphinx, a squadron of them should have enough lift to keep this thing from crashing into the surface! I need all the power you got to whatever tractor beams you have on your battlecruiser. We're gonna pull this thing back out of orbit!"

It was all he could do. Either way, they needed to get off this burning wreck.

 

[Creuat]

B L A C K G U A R D
CORUSCANT | GALACTIC SENATE
Darth Solipsis | Auteme | Kyric | Bernard | Veli'ae Ashai | Sahar | Thalia Senn | Damien Dooku

POWER​

The struggle of wills and determination battered each other down until one remained. The two warriors held each other firmly until finally Bernard began to falter, the strength in his grip lightened until finally his body gave in to the pain and slumped down on the hull of the ECLIPSE.

Victory was rewarded to Creuat’s perseverance, power, and fury. All of it possible by the Dark Side.

It was time for the killing blow, but then his body’s strength vanished. The heart once at Bernard’s mercy failed, not a single beat was produced. Despite the advantage of many hearts in his body they all overworked to compensate for the lack of the now failed organ. He tried to steady his balance and control his pacing, but his efforts failed him when the ECLIPSE prototype began a course to plummet itself into Coruscant’s surface.

The Dark Jedi tripped and his body rolled over, then began a descent of free fall from the star destroyer to the ruined Senate. He retained consciousness as he fell into the open hole of the Senate’s roof, before making an effort to survive his landing with the Force. He succeeded although his energy was drained and the body refused to move.

His torment traumatized both Kyric and Bernard, a small victory though it wasn’t enough to offer to the Emperor. Not with the son of Ryv Karis still out at large. Soon he would find the boy again, for it was inevitable for the young Jedi’s nature to find and confront danger.

His battles concluded, but the fight for Coruscant continued as the Dark Jedi laid until he had the will to drag himself out.

FIN​

 

[Ariana Du Couteau]

Ariana Du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta ,Jedi Padawan
Location: Coruscant, Senate Building
Action: Help, Escape Safely, Act Undignified.
Cape

Ariana narrowed her eyes and with her left arm outstretched to act as a guide, she concentrated on the former Chancellor with the Force. This time far less invasive than from when she grabbed hold of him from the fall, instead it was more to provide direction. The distance needed for him to travel required a lot of concentration with a certain stillness of the mind.

Violent shakes and massive turbulence of the air around her and the shuttle decided to make the ‘stillness’ more figurative. Carefully she took a step back, and with every other ten meters of Tithe descending, Ariana took another step to provide a larger area of the ramp for the man to land. As the man quickly descended towards her and the shuttle, Ariana reached out to catch Tithe with her left hand.

Careful to make sure that neither lost their footing, Ariana fell back inside the shuttle and looked out from the view-screen. The entirety of the Senate Building was torn apart, shredded by the sudden take off of the large spacecraft beneath the district. The young Du Couteau heiress had far too many questions but as she watched Tithe begin the shuttle’s take-off procedure, she decided to hold off on them.

There are other matters.

“If you wish to hold onto that memento without regret, I’ll grant my blessing.” Ariana spoke, her eyes narrowed but she kept her arms folded across her chest. “-Only if you make assurances to keep my brother alive while he fights back on Teta.”

Ariana turned her gaze away and down to her lap, her left hand unclipped her father’s ornate lightsaber from her hilt. Not in any fashion to wield, but to hold in reverence of the tool, “Damian decided to stay like our father. . . perhaps the two of you can come to a resolution should my blessing be insufficient.” Ariana added, her fingers wrapped around the saber tightly.

Sorry Dad.

“Friend like no other.” Ariana mumbled with a rather un-Tetan like snort.
​

|| Aerarii Tithe ||​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

Ironsides Irregulars [X]
Team Members [X]
Italic means helmet is being worn.

Objective: BOARD BATTLESHIP
With: Tulan Kor Reima Vitalis | NJO | GADF
Against: Castor E-196 | DE

Leave it to Gunny to always find the most ludicrous and creative ways to solve a problem. After the brief yet intense ride up to the falling battleship intending to lay waste to the whole area and cause irreversible devastation to the planet as a whole, Thirdas and his Ironsides rappelled down the tow cable alongside Tulan and the GADF elites. Once stood upon the surface of the massive enemy vessel, the suicidal pilot was waved off before she could get shot down. Hak'ken in particular offered her a salute, pilot to pilot.

Moving carefully along the hull aided by the MAG-LOCK technology built into the soles of their boots, the Ironsides spread out to locate an access hatch in order to infiltrate the ship. "Over here, Chief," shouted Creed over comms, waving them over. "Pioneer, start cutting," Thirdas instructed the team engineering specialist, who pulled out his plasma cutter and got to work while the rest formed a perimeter around him.

"Almost... there," Pac said, finishing up and giving the hatch handle a yank, but still it wouldn't buckle. "Rowdy," Creed summoned the massive Wookie, who proceeded to rip the door off its hinges, finally offering them a way inside. "Everyone inside, go go go!"

As Thirdas turned to Tulan, his old mentor had become engaged in CQC by a lone attacker. "Tulan!" He called out to him, but he would only tell him to go do what they came here to do. Torn between duty and loyalty, he concluded that Tulan had the situation under control and climbed down the hatch.

Sliding down the service ladder, the inflitration team began moving through corridors at a steady pace, not running but never stopping either. They moved as one singular mass with each member covering their sector, firing upon anyone they happened to come across. "Cypher, Pioneer — slice that terminal and find us a way to the bridge."

"And kill that damn siren while you're at it," Gaunt growled. "Giving me a karking headache!"

Pac and Cain go to work slicing into the console, downloading a map of the ship interior. Soon after, the shipwide alarm went dead. "That's better."

"Move out, people," the Chief ordered, and the formation resumed their path of destruction. "Left," Cain shouted directions. "Then take a right!"

Upon that right turn, they marched straight into a patrol of Stormtroopers. The Ironsides immediately engaged, firing off a few shots before charging into melee, each member brandishing their weapons of choice. Thirdas drew his handaxe and chopped the arm off the first he came into contact with. Others used vibro-knives, punching daggers, machetes, brass-knuckles, clubs, or in the case of Rrauros, brute force. The Red Dread became a Wookie cannon ball, howling as he stormed down the corridor, knocking aside and trampling anyone in his path.

"IRON WITHIN," roared their commander in the heat of battle. "IRON WITHOUT," the rest answered, their zeal and skill eventually causing the final pair to turn and run. Thirdas threw his axe into the back of one while Belial, the former bounty hunter, threw his electrified bolas to ensnare the other and shock them into unconsciousness.

"Bridge is just up ahead," said Cain as everyone gathered their weapons off their last kills and sheathing them. "Double-time it, people! We need to take control of the ship yesterday!" No longer in formation, all members of the strike team ran headlong through the last few corridors before arriving at the blast doors designed to keep the intruders out.

"Cypher?" He turned to Cain already at work trying to slice the door panel, but the young man shook his head. "It's no use — they've fried the controls from this side." Everyone then slowly turned to Rrauros grinning with glee as he held up an explosive.

Gathering whatever grenade and explosive charge they had on hand, the heavy weapons specialist that was the Red Dread got to work wiring them together and sticking them to the blast door. "You're a mad genius, d'you know that," said Hak'ken, the Duros slapping him on the shoulder. The Wookie laughed, all-too aware of his proclivity for explosive mayhem.

Once behind cover, the order was given and the countdown began. "Detonation in three... two... one..."

With a massive KA-BOOM, the blast door was torn in twain as the steel bent inwards, away from the explosion, leaving a man-sized hole through which to step through. "FOR CORUSCANT," shouted Thirdas as he charged inside, followed by his Ironsides.

 

[Damien Dooku]

LEGACIES OF THE FORCE
CHAPTER II: THE TIES THAT BIND
THEME

"The saber." ​

Damien muttered back into his comms, the line cutting short in the heat of the pitched battle happening on the ground. He could feel the anxiety welling up through the pits of his soul and outwards into the cockpit surrounding him, but Damien would not falter. He couldn't afford it, not when the stakes were so high and those closest to him were giving their everything to survive the pandemonium. He reached out through the force, letting his brother's words wash over his mind and replace the ambience of pitched warfare that drowned out all else.

Were it not his mother who was wielding it, Damien feared he might've not felt it at all. But everything that woman touched radiated through the force with an intensity that made it impossible for anyone to miss. Strands extended outwards, connecting through the metaphysical and fractaling in patterns that were only visible to his mind's eye for that split moment of solace. The flow of the battle had drawn to a snail's pace, and he traced the patterns through the sky, Trailing down each tendril until they inevitably converged at a second point on the ground that shone with the brilliance that only the Light could achieve.

Opposite of her resplendence, the indomitable presence of one so twisted and tainted with the dark stood at odds with the Chancellor for dominance. The strands snapped as a series of bolts raked across his wing, and R4 sounded off in alert to the trio of TIE fighters beginning to swing back for another attempt to engage him. Damien pushed down on the sticks, sending Midnight into a sudden dive towards the ground before swinging her around the curvature of the rising hulk of a ship. "R4!" Damien called out, and the droid swiveled on the wing with its occular lens facing him. "I'm about to do something stupid. I need you to take over in the skies, keep those TIE's occupied, alright?"

The droid voiced a brief complaint before it caught the stubborn resoluteness in Damien's eyes and agreed with a single note from the speakers. Midnight broke from the nosedive with the quick shifting of his thrusters, then whipped around entirely until the cockpit was facing the ground beneath. Damien unbuckled his seat's straps as the cockpit flew open long enough for the scoundrel to careen himself off into a freefall right above where he'd felt his mom's presence.

"I've got this...you've got this Damien!" He yelled out to himself in an attempt to steel himself for what he was already halfway through attempting. The ground grew ever so closer within his vision until his window of opportunity was beginning to run thin, and so he pulled back a single arm and focused on the exact spot he would potentially impact in seconds. He slammed his palm forwards, and his body leveled out mid-air, the speed of his descent slowing just enough for him to hit the ground with a roll and pop back onto his feet.

Both hands reached to his hips, a blaster being whipped forth from his left whilst the right unclipped a cylindrical object off his belt. He emptied the blaster into the direction of the avatar of darkness masquerading itself as a man, leaving little room for the weapon in his hand to cool itself down before overheating entirely. His confidence in taking him down with something as mundane as his pistol was little to none, but he hoped it would give his mother enough time to catch her breath.

Burning resolve poured through the amber orbs that stared down Darth Solipsis , They radiated with defiance in spite of the overwhelming difference in strength that the two individuals possessed. Damien could barely get his body to move closer without his senses screaming to him that death was inevitable if he moved even a single inch forwards. His knees began to wobble subtly, his gun-hand shaking just enough that he stubbornly holstered the out-of-commission weapon in response. Damien gritted his teeth, and he realized that he'd been unable to stare the man in the eyes. He couldn't even lift his head past the shadowy tendrils emanating from beneath the Sith'ari.

The fear seeped in deep, threatening to dissolve his resolve into a shallow puddle beneath his feet. Resentment washed over his eyes, casting doubt upon himself, and sapping whatever was left of his will to live– his will to survive.

"Move." ​

The voice bellowed out, both unfamiliar to his ears yet a presence so familiar that he felt the Sith'ari's intensity no longer send his body into a state of shock. A hand rested firmly on his shoulder; it was cold and metal, and as he peered off into his periphery, so too was the man's face.

"I said move." ​

Damien whipped his eyes forwards, and raised them up just enough to stare at the embodiment of evil itself, despite his entire sense of self screaming to avoid it like the plague. The black hilt in his hand lifted in front of him into a low guard, his hands wrapping around the weapon in time with his slowly recovering nerves firing off normal. The fear that had infected him had been supplanted altogether as he activated the weapon's switch, his eyes lighting up in response to the silver blade manifesting into existence.

Damien stepped in front of his mother and held his weapon at the ready. "We need to get out of here, mom, like right now!" He spoke up loud enough for her to hear without shifting his eyes away from her enemy. "The whole dang place is fallin' apart by the second– we've gotta get outta here before that ship's finished comin' out."

He took a step forwards as the Sith'ari continued on, now no longer frightened by Solipsis or the premonitions that lead him there in the first place.

"But i'm not leaving without you. We both go– or we both fight."


Auteme | Darth Solipsis | Honorary Mention: Rurik Fel ​

 

[Teket]

TAGS: OPEN
Damien Dooku Auteme Darth Solipsis

​

Teket had had no plans to interfere with any of the fighting, especially as the ship tilted and began it's descent -- a rather alarming event, but Teket was determined to not leave until the others did. At the very least, he had decided he wanted to follow this man who held power and darkness like he owned it. However, as blaster fire came directed at the powerful man, the Ewok could not help but react. Without even thinking of what he was doing, he reached out with his magic and swatted the annoying fire flies away. He had no doubts the man could have handled it himself, but the idea that someone else was trying to interfere made Teket angry.

Teket rolled forward along the ship hull, making sure he was not thrown off. Using his magic to weigh himself down and keep himself in place, he stood up to face the attacker, who now held a flaming silver sword. Teket had no weapon of his own, only the fire-starting device he had pilfered earlier. He pulled it out of his pocket and raised it in defiance. He was feeling drained from his constant use of magic, which had been more than he had ever had the opportunity to use before, but his indignance spurred him on. "Can't you see a Master is at work? Do not interfere!" He doubted the man could understand him, but perhaps he could at least distract him from interfering in the fight further.

 

[Castor E-196]

GOOD_SOLDIERS_FOLLOW_ORDERS

Master Sergeant Castor E-196
SpecNav Commando Group Three; Attached to Task Force Vader, aboard the INV Predator falling through Coruscant's atmosphere towards the Eclipse III​

Objective: Repel Boarders Survive, Reorient
Tags:
GA enemies Tulan Kor Thirdas Heavenshield Reima Vitalis [/S]

Tulan brought down his palm, the shot going wide and into the hull of the ship. He used his other palm to strike the weapon in the receiver, knocking it out of the hands of the Trooper. Before he could counter, the Trooper brought his foot against Tulan's chest, sending him tumbling back, and the shotgun went wide- falling in the similar manner that Tulan's rifle did. Tulan sat up on his back, before standing up. He reached up to his left forearm, removing the Antarian Ranger combat knife from it's sheath, and twirled it in his hand.

"You die here, scumbag."

He amplified his voice, so the man would hear him.

Castor strode forward silently, combat blade in hand. With blinding speed, Castor had forgone a defensive guard and went straight for the attack, his combat blade slicing through the air. He leaned on his enhanced physiology and struck with speed and force- breaking through parries and blocks, continually advancing and forcing his opponent back. The other man was quick and brutal, never letting up and with almost-perfect form and follow-through, Castor told himself. Almost as good as the trainers back in the Empire...

Their elbows crashed as they both attempted downstrikes again, and for a moment, Castor could see the other man's face clearly. Despite the adrenaline and advanced neuro-feedback, part of his mind flashed in recognition.

By the Imperator... Is this Tulan Kor? The old bastard of the Special Forces- helped to (literally) write the book on the special forces programs utilised by the NIO, that would eventually culminate in, among other things, the NIO's ELITE program, and the, frankly speaking, freak, that Castor would be trained into.

A hint of apprehension and bloodlust-delight filled him- Tulan might recognise Castor's old armour, once meant to be nondescript, but sticking out like a sore thumb in this new century. Their clash broke contact as the ship shuddered again. The next few seconds were a whirlwind- both were able to get in strong hilt strikes and a few slashes against each other's armour, and even a few temporary elbow locks and leg sweeps, but missile strikes and the shuddering impact of turbolasers sent them reeling every few seconds, and the air turbulence nullified each advantage as fast as it came up. Nonetheless, Castor managed to get a temporary lock and tried again to push on Tulan, pushing him downward. He knew he had the edge.

The Commando assessed the situation- the other soldiers were scurrying to the access hatch. A good kick against this soldier and the judicious use of grenades-

Max was true to his word, using his quad cannons to strafe the position with fire, hammering down like so much deadly rain. If Tulan Kor, ]Thirdas Heavenshield, and Castor E-196 weren't careful, they could get singed -- or worse. Reima flipped the ship into a corkscrew turn so tight it caused little black spots to dance in front of her, but also giving her gunner the ability to focus fire on the anti-air turrets that would hamper other officials.

Heavy blaster fire raked across the surface of the Battlecruiser, ripping through the outer panels. Castor pushed against the blade, sending Tulan tumbling as he rolled out of the way of the blaster fire. He unslung his heavy disruptor pistol and gave several aimed shots at the gunship- aiming for what looked to be weak connective areas between wings and fuselage, or the cannon mounts.

Tulan was back to his feet, and Castor made ready to chase the soldiers that had made it to the hatch when a sudden shift in velocity almost sent him flying.

"Set a collision course," Lothair commanded. "Target the largest concentration of enemies and prepare to ram them."

The ship's engines roared to life, their power redirected to push the ECLIPSE III into a final, desperate charge. The battlecruiser, now more a weapon of destruction than a vessel of war, began its descent toward the heart of the enemy fleet.

Tulan was on him again, and the pair dodged and weaved. The ship bucked again, and both of them lost balance, held in place only by their magnetic boots (of which Castor's was beginning to lose efficiency, what with all that happened in the past hour). The ship was definitely moving at full thrust now, or what passed for it in its damaged state. At this rate, it would ram either the ships in upper atmosphere or smash straight into the ground- at which point neither Castor nor Tulan would be alive for it.

Doubt crept into him again- an unwelcome presence. Was he really willing to risk what little of his life was left for... this? Castor was a wheel in the machinery of war, he understood that as soon as he was recruited into SILVERLIGHT. But staring in his past right now, at this other relic of the Empire, was beginning to muddy his mind. Memories arose unbidden. The Chiss war, his comrades in SCAR, Second Exegol. And again the doubts about his current masters bubbled up again, forcing him to remember it, as irresistible as the massive propulsive forces this Battlecruiser of theirs subjected Castor and his suit to... If a veteran like Tulan could fight- probably on a temporary basis- for the Alliance against the Dark Empire... why then was Castor here then? Frustration welled up in him as he raised his knife and charged again. He hated the doubt and confusion. Unprofessional. Uncharacteristic. Unsightly.

It's just not the same without the old, new, order.

 

[Tulan Kor]

​

With: GADF Soldiers l Thirdas Heavenshield l Reima Vitalis
Fighting: DE Troops l Castor E-196
Objective: FIGHT!


It took Tulan a second, just a second, to remember where he'd seen that armor. Who that armored belonged to. And who that man probably did before, who he served, what he believed in. But more importantly, he knew by how fast he was, how much he fought, how hard he fought- who taught him. Who trained him, who made him the weapon that he was. And what it cost. And what it would mean.

"You traitor son of a queen. Look around you-"

He grabbed the wrist of Castor as his blade came down low and fast at him, trying to get Tulan across the thigh. He grit his teeth, stepping back just in time, holding Castor's powerful wrist. But he drove his elbow towards his helmet, forcing him to look at the skyline for a second. All around him, the ship was falling apart. The Alliance gun runs and orbital bombardments- well.

Things were not looking good for the pair, much less the people and Alliance as a whole.

"You tell me this is what the Imperials wanted. Murder. Razing a city. How many people did the Sith kill today, kid? How many did you kill?"

He held his elbow there, pressing and barely able to stop the man from turning his neck. Good heavens, he was strong.

He just needed a few more seconds-

"You made your choice."

He remembered something great about the STARLIGHT program. Something that always annoyed him about their so-called super soldiers. Light hurt their eyes. Bright, flashing light. Tulan's visor went black, and the helmet's audio went off as well- and with Tulan's left hand, the one that was pressing the man's face, he let go, pushing off of his face. His hand still held tightly onto the wrist, that was quickly losing strength against the augmented power of the other man.

Tulan dropped his knife, freeing both of his hands.

And thumbed the activation on the flashbang- mostly blind, thanks to his visor going dark, and his sensors and helmet audio being tuned out. But he held up that big, bright thing, tossing it in the space between the two. His helmet shifted, just ever so slightly and up and to the right. Tulan was smiling. The grenade flew in between them, and in just another second, it would've been taken by the wind. The air was getting thin. Tulan had to get moving.

"Watch the birdy."

 

[Pal Veda]

ECLIPSE
On board the Predator
OBJECTIVE: Capture the Leader!
GA Allies: Jasper Kai'el Braze
DE Enemies: Marlon Sularen Abraxas Colt

Lights flickered and sparks flew down the corridors as the ship continued to sustain heavy damage from the outside. Explosions rocked the ship, causing Veda to stumble or catch himself against the wall. His own detonators on the command terminal they had exploited caused quite a BOOM! He was sure significant damage was done, but he had put a bit of distance between himself and the bombs before they went off.

The destruction Veda and BB encountered on the way to the bridge wasn’t a surprise. The Jedi were a two-man wrecking crew. Fortunately, that meant the outlaw and his astromech encountered little resistance getting across the Imperial warship. They dodged a couple groups of troopers running off to do who knew what — probably something to do with saving the Predator, or maybe abandoning ship. They were too preoccupied with their own mission to notice Veda and BB slipping down the hallways.

Only once did the pair have to take action. They hid behind an alcove as a seven-man team sprinted by. An odd number of troopers in a formation struck Veda as, well, odd, but he figured anything was possible at this point in the attack. Once the group was out of sight, Veda popped around the corner just in time to run square into the missing eighth man of the unit. They bounced off of each other, both surprised by the interaction. Veda recovered first and made a move to tackle the soldier. They went to the ground together, but the Imperial’s armor gave him an advantage, preventing Veda from landing any solid hits or getting a clean gap for a chokehold. Worse, he headbutted Veda, stunning Veda momentarily and giving him a chance to push the outlaw off and escape. The trooper crawled toward his dropped blaster rifle and raced to his feet to take aim. As he turned to point the barrel at Veda, two blaster shots caught him in the chest. Veda was laying on his back, pistol in hand, aimed directly at the Imperial’s smoking chest piece. The soldier dropped instantly.

Veda climbed up and brushed himself off then proceeded onward. He should have picked the carbine back up, but he decided to stay with his trusty blaster pistol in these close quarters. A comfortable weapon for an uncomfortable environment.

As he approached the bridge, Veda saw the younger Jedi taking the rear position, throwing some smoke bomb looking gadget across the room. The older Jedi with the mechanical arm seemed to be leading the charge toward the Grand Admiral. Veda noticed one of fallen troopers was not yet down for the count, and he started to raise his blaster in the Jedi’s direction. Pew! Veda finished him off. He then slowed to a stop a few meters behind the younger Jedi to take stock of the situation unfolding on the bridge.

Were they really about to capture the Grand Admiral of the Dark Empire?

 

[Abraxas Colt]

​

Tags:

[DE] Castor E-196 | Marlon Sularen ​

[GA] Braze | Jasper Kai'el | Pal Veda ​

Objective 1: Eclipse
Location: Aboard the INV Predator
Post Theme: Mile High Club [x]

​

<“Admiral Sularen, do you copy?”> Abraxas called over the comlink. Another violent rumble slid his footing but he recovered quickly. Comms were dropping in and out all across the Predator as Alliance strafing runs barraged the hull from all sides. The Grand Admiral’s flagship couldn’t hold out much longer like this, but that was a separate issue to consider; at present, his orders were to keep Marlon Sularen alive, and he wasn’t responding. <“Admiral, this is Darkstar. We’re nearing the bridge now, do you copy?”> He was answered only by silence.

Brax’s boots pounded as he rushed through the corridor, eventually coming upon not only the Grand Admiral, but Jasper Kai'el and his Padawan, too. From their position behind the pair of Jedi, Darkstar and the pair of surviving storm commandos watched as a vicious duel erupted between them and the Sith Protectors who’d been assembled to defend Sularen. In the heat of the fight, the commandos made their move.

“Split to either side, lay down fire!” Brax commanded. He looked down his own sights and line up a well-placed blast with the Firepuncher’s alternate-fire mode, launching a flaming shot aimed right in front of Braze with the intent to distance him from his Master.

 

[Castor E-196]

GOOD_SOLDIERS_FOLLOW_ORDERS

Master Sergeant Castor E-196
SpecNav Commando Group Three; Attached to Task Force Vader, aboard the INV Predator falling through Coruscant's atmosphere towards the Eclipse III​

Objective: Repel Boarders Survive, Reorient
Tags:
GA enemies Tulan Kor Thirdas Heavenshield Reima Vitalis [/S]

Castor struck downward, barely missing Tulan's thigh. Against all odds, the older man managed to get a clean grip on Castor's vambraces, slowly pushing him aside. Elbow strike- and Castor's head snapped to the side, taking a good view of the burning skyline. As they struggled, the words cut through the air like razor, reverberating both through the air between them and through the solid vibrations between their armours:

​

"You tell me this is what the Imperials wanted. Murder. Razing a city. How many people did the Sith kill today, kid? How many did you kill?"

None. Castor could reasonably say. None. He was a tool of war, and he had failed his mission twice over already. Not like the Sith, he thought bitterly. Castor tasted the sting of failure too often these days. No, he was not like them, not-

He was not like them. His hands were... clean. For now.​

The silence between them felt like eons.​

"You made your choice."

Tulan let go with one hand, disarming himself and pushing away. Even with his enhanced reflexes, the overwhelming stimuli of the ascending ship almost distracted Castor before he realised what Tulan has tossed in the space between them.

And thumbed the activation on the flashbang- mostly blind, thanks to his visor going dark, and his sensors and helmet audio being tuned out. But he held up that big, bright thing, tossing it in the space between the two.

Castor flinched when he realised, and shouted a command to black out his visor- but it was too late. The flash of light and sound pierced his eyes, and Castor let go of Tulan as he rolled backward. He lost his footing, half-blinded and buffeted by the thinning winds, clambering on the hull of the Eclipse III as he fell away from their site of confrontation. He managed to grab two handholds somewhere on the hull as his visions slowly returned, just making out the silhouette of Tulan some distance away.

He wanted to say something, do something, but that moment had passed... for now. The danger of the moment kept him on instinct, trying to secure his handhold on the rapidly accelerating Eclipse.

 

[Tulan Kor]

Peace, we will have peace.




​

With: GADF Soldiers l Thirdas Heavenshield l Reima Vitalis
Fighting: DE Troops l Castor E-196
Objective: FIGHT?


Tulan appeared, like the demon he was, above the visage of Castor, who was clinging on for dear life. Tulan's magboots slowly approached him. Tulan was no longer unarmed- he had his sidearm in his hand. He stood over Castor, holding the gun at his eye level. The wind, the explosions around him. It all seemed so too much. Tulan looked up to the sky, then back down to Castor, his pistol shaking in his hands.

It wasn't his fault.

He was a tool. A weapon. He had been formed, molded, and used as he was designed.

But he wasn't a weapon, he wasn't a tool to be used, to be wielded.

He was a man.

A man who needed help.

A man who was just as lost and confused as he was at one point.

Lied to.

Abused.

Forgotten.

Abandoned.

Tulan lowered his sidearm, placing the pistol back in his holster, now unarmed. And reached down, just as the crescendo of Ion blasts picked up- And helped Castor up to his feet (with the aid of a grappling hook attached to his belt, the big nerf herder). He was a great deal taller than him, but like most of his pupils, students, and subordinates, Tulan always somehow felt bigger than he actually was.

And he gave the man a brief hug, patting him on the back. He looked up at him.

"I can't let this thing fall down to Coruscant. We've got to get it above the atmosphere before it blows."

Tulan touched the wrist-mounted communicator, switching channels to broadcast globally. Now that they were above the dust storm and away from the fury of combat, the signal was much clearer to be broadcast and relayed through open channels. He used his ID as a Commander to override the typical comm channel restrictions- even interrupting some other transmissions.

"ALL ALLIANCE PERSONNEL, STOP FIRING ON THE ECLIPSE AND MAINTAIN DEFENSIVE POSTURE! THIS IS COMMANDER KOR, WE ARE ABOARD THE ECLIPSE AND BRINGING IT ABOVE THE ATMOSPHERE!"​

Tulan looked up at Castor, as he began to walk- not run, not jog, just walk to the hatch that Thirdas' team had cut open.

"We all make choices, soldier. Make some good ones from now on."

Tulan turned his back, as he was just about to make it to the breach- Castor could shoot him in the back. Maybe part of Tulan knew that he could. Or maybe Tulan believed in him so much, that he didn't even consider it. Hard to say.

 

[Castor E-196]

GOOD_SOLDIERS_FOLLOW_ORDERS

Master Sergeant Castor E-196
SpecNav Commando Group Three; Attached to Task Force Vader, aboard the INV Predator falling through Coruscant's atmosphere towards the Eclipse III​

Objective: Repel Boarders Survive, Reorient
Tags:
GA enemies Tulan Kor Thirdas Heavenshield Reima Vitalis [/S]

Tulan lowered his sidearm, placing the pistol back in his holster, now unarmed. And reached down, just as the crescendo of Ion blasts picked up- And helped Castor up to his feet (with the aid of a grappling hook attached to his belt, the big nerf herder).

Castor hauled himself up with Tulan's help, finally clambering over to the secure section of the hull the older man was on. There was something in the way he moved. Castor looked Tulan over carefully- no mistaking who he was.

"I can't let this thing fall down to Coruscant. We've got to get it above the atmosphere before it blows."

Clear and to the point. Castor understood the stakes. He knew what Tulan was trying to say- he had the choice to help or hinder.

Tulan looked up at Castor, as he began to walk- not run, not jog, just walk to the hatch that Thirdas' team had cut open.

"We all make choices, soldier. Make some good ones from now on."

Tulan turned his back, as he was just about to make it to the breach- Castor could shoot him in the back. Maybe part of Tulan knew that he could. Or maybe Tulan believeid in him so much, that he didn't even consider it. Hard to say.

Choices. Castor had not had much of a choice in anything. Not even in his 'domain of expertise'- in his line of work, you gave your all or you were a statistic at the end of the battle. But he'd had help. He'd had support, and people he trusted.

SCAR team.

Again, that short period of a few months came back to his mind. Behind his comrades in The Program, they were the closest thing the lone operator had had to friends. A warrior's bond- the kind that characterised the New Imperial Order and its Empire. A clarity of purpose too- order and security. Against misguided fools and dangerous monsters.

Monsters that Castor was now serving after Carlac mandated his unit be joined to the Dark Empire.

Castor picked up the sidearm. His head throbbed- as if something in him still rebelled at the idea of going against orders. Loyalty to the death was engineered into his bones, sure as the ceramic layers that lined them now.

But there are orders and there are orders, and Castor knew which overrode which when he gazed back at the retreating cityscape.

Imperial Academy of Bastion, 870 ABY

The orange sky of Bastion filtered through the transparisteel that wrapped around the great hall like a cocoon. Standing in formation were fourty-two warriors, abnormally large, donning their RAMPART armour in full for the first time. Twenty others stood by at attention by their flanks, dressed in dress uniform, some with scars and bandages still- undergoing successful rehabilition after organ rejection. A dozen or so from this brotherhood of warriors were missing- the price of duty, either meeting painful ends during the organ implantation procedure, or re-rolled into Military Intelligence.

It was the name of these fallen this group of sixty recited, their voices echoing through the hall. At its head were their commanders, their trainers, their tormentors and saviours alike. A dozen or so of the most hard-ass trainers in the New Imperial Order, the only kind the Empire demanded for training their ELITEs. Universally, they all wore expressions of pride on their faces this day.

The Training Officer Commanding stood on a slightly raised platform. As the names of the fallen died down, he spoke.

"There's little that needs be said, but said it must be. You have undergone hell these past eight years. You have endured the worst the Academy can put you through, and most among you have seen what the Enemy is capable of. Your instructors have as much been mentors as tormentors- bastards of every stripe across out great realm. You have seen your comrades-in-arms suffer senseless and ignomious deaths.

"And tomorrow, when you are graduated as fully-fledged soldiers of His Imperial Majesty's Navy... You will miss these days. For then, you will face worse. But you have been given the tools to overcome all threats and complete all tasks assigned to you in the great endeavour that is our Empire!" He slammed a fist down.

"You who are the children of the Empire- you know the meaning of our Imperial Order. It is duty. It is sacrifice. It is defiance. It is duty to the realm. Sacrifice for the Empire. It is defiance of the enemy, of the countless fools and monsters who prowl the Galaxy, seeking to outdo the Four Hundred Year Darkness. You know who I speak of- you have killed hundreds of them in VR training, interrogated their minions in interrogation training, fought against their cultists in your graduation missions. The Sith."

Even now, Castor could feel the hatred rolling of the OC's tongue. And the fire lit in the bellies of him and his brethren.

"You are now entrusted with the destruction of the Empire's most dangerous enemies, armed with the greatest weapons of our time, your very bodies enhanced with the most advanced artifices wrought by modern science, and clad in our finest panoply. You are ELITE. But you are, first and foremost, servants of the Imperator and His Empire. You have been improved, but you are one among many. And the many are the defiant citizens of good standing of the Empire, the heart of our Imperial Order, long before we had stations and ship and land. We had people. People like you."

The memory dissolved again, and Castor now saw himself at attention. The Lieutenant Commander was finished with the previous graduate, and was in front of him now, holding out his Letter of Appointment with both hands, which Castor firmly grasped and received with both hands.

"Castor E-One-Nine-Six. You have been appointed Sergeant First Class of His Imperial Majesty's Navy. Discharge your duties with distinction and embody loyalty in all that you do."

"No retreat, no surrender, no defeat." Castor echoed the unofficial warcry of the Program. The sound echoed in his head...

Loyalty. To ideas and people. People.

Castor holstered the pistol and joined Tulan by the hatch.

"You're going to need my access codes if you don't want to get fried by the automated defences." And the commando stepped into the hatch after Tulan.