Coercion is the Best Form of Persuasion | TSE Dominion of Chad / Centares

[Akash Guul]

Objective II: The Virgin Centares
Allies: [member="Gilamar Skirata"], [member="Karsan Munin"]
Enemies: [member="Eye of Solomon"], [member="Anden Fancelo"], [member="Keva"]

The screeching noises of rebel fighters took Jair's attention from the assault and he discerned the work of MandalMotors in flight against the onslaught of the Sith's aerial threat. Yet, as his eyes fell down the horizon following the fighters darting further away, Jair noticed another Mandalorian - this one was fleeing for his life all battered and bloodied.

Apparently the market was in demand for Mandalorian mercs. Unless, he'd been part of old man Skirata's troupe of rebel rats.

It hardly mattered to Ordo. What mattered though was the other Mandalorian taking one of the carbines he had carried to the front earlier. Other rebels were also helping themselves with the arsenal fit to arm a platoon Jair had carried solo to their defensive position.

"Sure. Help yourselves, why won't you." Jair grumbled before snatching the carbine the other Mandalorian just took. He lied the carbine on top of his cover for better balance and fired a few well aimed shots at the upcoming invasion of Sith-Legionnaire forces.

"Look, vod, I ain't splitting my fee." the sarcastic emphasis was on vod. Ordo ducked behind cover as he reloaded the carbine with another mag from the ones neatly lied on the ground by him. The perfectionist composition of the arsenal he had set was all but ruined by the rebel rats and the Mandalorian coming in and grabbing the guns he'd brought as if it was free market day on Concordia.

"But if you are so keen on getting your ass out there again-" Jair produced a few detpacks from the same arsenal he had brought from within the base. "This should slow 'em darjetii down more for Skirata's rebel rats to get off unpulverized."

He offered them to the other Mandalorian.

 

[Keva]

[SIZE=11pt]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]2, Assault Centares[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]En route to Airfield[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Tags: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt][member="Anden Fancelo"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The Sithling, who had been lost in thought prior, was yanked from her little world and brought back to reality with the commander’s words. She looked at him briefly; she wasn’t used to getting interruptions, but alas. They weren’t the mindless drones that people referred to as Droids. Before responding to the concerns of a dangerous LZ, she corrected the man first:[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Keva. My name is Keva.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She had no interest in titles. Not yet, she would earn her titles and only then would she rigorously enforce their usings by underlings, and she had no underlings now, nor the accomplishments to deserve titles.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“So long as we’re not shot from the sky, I can deal with a hot LZ.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And whilst she was cold as ever, it was hard not to see the uttermost confidence she held in her own abilities. [/SIZE]

 

[Jenmae Ophiro]

Location: The Aviary, Centares​

Objective: BYOO {Witchy Stuff}​

Wearing: XXX​

Attending: [member="Rowan Devonshire"]​

---

​

---

​

As her host spoke of their purpose upon the planet, the pale wraith slowly strode along the edge of the circle the familiar had drawn, letting herself feel more than observe the magick they were there to harvest. There was death here, certainly - old death. Small death also. From the decaying leaves that made little sound as the tread upon them, to the tiny creatures who had made this place their home, dieing off in greater numbers now that destruction had been visited upon them. Where there was life there would be death - small death. Normally the White Witch worked with death on a far larger scale, but this had its place as well.

Dark and luminous eyes lifted as Rowan motioned for the woman to follow, and foot steps turned, moving to do just that. Stepping carefully around the perimeter of the circle the other witch had made, Jenmae's fingers rose. Finely manicured finger tips carefully dragged along the edges of those lines, the deep magenta hue like phantoms she could see behind her eyes - present though incorporeal. She was tempted to touch the ground itself, but the humming sensation along her skin was a reminder that she was still unfamiliar with this magick. It would be reckless, and she was far from home...

Stepping away from the points and instead following through the trees, Jenmae came to stand beside her host as the witch drew bones from the hollow of one of the ancient trunks. Lifting her hand, she carefully plucked the second bone that was offered from the proffered palm. Carefully holding it in her own fingers, eyes slid along the beautifully glowing bone.

"Do you know what makes them react this way...?" Turning the bone over and over, she seemed far more curious about the bone itself than what they intended to do with it.

 

[Rowan Devonshire]

Location: The Aviary, Centares
Objective: A Little Wicca, BYOO

---

---

---

Rowan nodded softly and answered the White Witch directly, "magick recognizes magick, no matter the type - for much like the Force, Magick is everywhere." This is part of what the Galidraani believed at least and it was what Rowan believed with all of her heart. "Magick is neither good nor evil - it is the touch of the caster that matters most. I've called upon the ancient powers of my home, reveal to reveal the magick of these bones and here before us now lay the ichor." Ichor was what mattered most to witches, Ichor could be seen - at least for Rowan and her Coven, like that of mana or lyrium. A way to manage and manipulate magical energies that were around them. Too much mana or too much ichor could lead to a devastating death - not enough and you could barely cast a spell let alone manipulate the natural energies around you.

"But."

She paused for dramatics.

"This you knew already, I suspect."

With a twirl of her fingers, Rowan moved the ichor from the small bone in her hand and breathed it in. Best explained as a most needed drink, one that would cool you down on a hot summer day or warm you up on the coldest of winter nights. It was minuscule at best, and yet so sweet to taste, "there is more here scattered around here, we have but to find it and perhaps learn what happened here to create such ichor." Ichor did not always occur naturally and when it didn't it was done by an extreme measure - and there were plenty of planets around the galaxy who had suffered extreme fates by any definition of the word. Sedgwick leaped down from his perch and began to pace, and at first, he meowed as if to warn Rowan.

Rowan did turn at the least and looked at her beloved. "Sedgwick..."

Another meow of warning only not to her or her companion but rather to an intruder.

"You do not belong here, begone foul creatures."

Sedgwick began to growl, his back slowly arched and his tail shot straight into the air.

"Suuuuch, foul magicks - reeks of Lilith's betrayal you dare use such tricksies outside of your realm?"

"I very much dare, good being, now I suggest you run along." Rowan knelt down to retrieve a pair of what appeared to be, wooden sticks from either of her boots. She snapped them together and revealed the telescopic quarterstaff. A greying mist descended the Aviary it rolled out like a thick fog in the sweat of a late summer's eve, coiled around the feet of the witches present and the magneta hued aura became snuffed from the mist, and darkness began to make a claim here.

"I said BEGONE!"

A rush of energy made its way toward Rowan who instantly cast, "dliehS!"

Her quarterstaff extended the energy bounced away from the shield.

The silhouette that formed within the mist reached well over two and a half meters tall. Sedgwick hissed again and this time transformed into a demonic energy nearly the same height as the intruder that dared interrupt Rowan and her companion at that very moment. Sedgwick cast out a wave of dark energy which cut through the mist like an abyssal dagger on its way to drain life from what it could. The dagger cut through the figure and while an unholy wail had been unleashed, the figure still approached.

[member="Jenmae Ophiro"]

 

[Anden Fancelo]

Centares, reaching the Airfield.​

[Objective]: II: Eliminate Rebel Forces.​

[Allies]: [member="Keva"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"]​

[Enemies]: [member="Jair Ordo"] | [member="Gilamar Skirata"]​

​

Spoiler

[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXJ0x3ZN8TI[/video]

​

---

​

---

​

"Keva. My name is Keva."

The captain stood, corrected. Before providing a nod. "Very well Keva, I am Captain Anden Fancelo: leader of Strike Team Onyx." He gestured towards the Gravewalkers. "My team, obviously." They were introduced as they were lined up to deploy from the shuttle, checking their gear was all set to go and blasters were calibrated. A standard gear check. Which everything seemed to work out. Another obvious feature was that these soldiers were nothing like the standard Sith Troopers. Some of their equipment not even used by the standard trooper. Those of Battlegroup VI were unique specimen in the Empire's Military force, and an effective one. Though rare and on the decline. A dying breed.

"We're about to reach it in half a mike. The legionnaires got most of the rebels distracted, so we're the dagger in the back." Half a minute. He stated, before slapping his helmet on and heading over to the exit of the shuttle.

He undid the sling on his pulse rifle, and held it lowered. He'd take in a deep breath and adjusted his commlink. Speaking into it.

"This is Fancelo signing in on team freq'."

"Leth Cresh Captain." The marksman of the team responded.

All was set and ready to go. And hopefully the sith was ready, for the shuttle was making it's halt.

The transport shuttle came to a halt as it then turned about to have it's rear face the airfield. Descending quickly and deploying smoke pods to obscure the troopers that'll come out. Once the pods hit the ground, the ramp lowered and Onyx was exposed to the airfield for a second, before their view was covered in smoke. But all it took was a second to find the first piece of cover.

"Move move move! Over to the right!" Anden yelled out, jumping out of the shuttle and rushing over to the side to begin suppressing the visible individuals he had in his sights. Preventing any hostiles from having a better chance of hitting his teammates as they rushed over towards the side. Maxevan, the massive titan of a human began spinning up his repeater and assisted in the suppression.

Allowing an avenue for the rest of the team to make it to a point of cover and hopefully cover the two soldiers that although maintaining a low profile, were somewhat in the open.

 

[Keva]

[SIZE=11pt]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]2, Assault Centares[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Rebel airfield [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Tags: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt][member="Anden Fancelo"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Ironic. She was apart of those same commandos who had been a constant annoyance in her life under the confederacy: but things seemed different in the Empire, less the rambunctious idiots within the Confederacy. Things were different here, cleaner, deadlier, these were her people.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her eyes glazed across the soldiers, she took them in: her memory was a viciously accurate tool when it came to wartime, and she knew in the days to come she would call on these men. Until they were claimed by death, such was the fate of all these elite squadrons. But they would suffice greatly for a time.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]When they finally landed, Keva was a carefully calculated rush of movement: obviously this wasn’t the Chiss’s first rodeo with an action like this. She kept herself place more towards the center of the troopers, leaving herself an ample meatshield in case of heavy enemy fire. When finally she reached some semblance of cover, she merely held out an open hand.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Grenade.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It was about the politest request she’d ever give to someone.[/SIZE]

 

[Eye of Solomon]

Objective: Kill The Rebels
Location: Centares

---

---

---

​

---

​

Kadurin rushed forward into certain danger, blaster fire streaking all around him. His lightsaber was ignited, scarlet blade cutting through the air to land in the throat of a Rebel heavy gunner. Yanking his lightsaber free, Kadurin sliced through the Rebel's right arm before bringing his weapon back to deflect several blaster bolts careening towards him. He thrust his free hand out, and a trio of Rebel soldiers froze where they stood; transfixed as if hypnotized. But this was no mere hypnosis, their bodies were seized in artificial stasis and were incapable of movement. Kadurin then pulled one of them close to him and killed him with a slash across the chest, the second he pulled in and killed with a stab through her heart, and the final one he killed with a heavy overhead slash that split the Mon Calamari from cranium to groin.

His twin sister was further back, surrounding by an honor guard of marked Legionnaires that followed her every instruction without hesitation. She stood among them, hands linked behind her back as she strode amidst the carnage of battle. Fire reflected in her eyes, which swayed back and forth as she observed her brother's butchery and the futile heroism of the Rebels as they fought desperately to delay the inevitable. Her father would have told her that such futility was unworthy of recognition, and her brother would have readily agreed with him, but she found something hauntingly poetic about the death being wrought today.

Perhaps she would compose a song after, to commemorate the Empire's inevitable victory and the sacrifice of the fallen. Mother would appreciate it, at the very least, even if her Father did not. She moved as a brisk pace to meet up with her twin brother, "Kadurin, the Rebel base in just up ahead. Looks like they've activated some automated defenses to slow us down."

"How cowardly," growled Kadurin as he pulled his blade free from another Rebel corpse, many of which were strewn about him. He breathed in deeply, the Force flowing into him to give his words power over distance, "Come forth from your little holes, cowards! Face your death like a warrior, or are there any left among you? Butchering the weak grows tiring!"

"Very succinct, brother."

[member="Gilamar Skirata"] | [member="Jair Ordo"]​

[member="Keva"] | [member="Anden Fancelo"]​

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective: Indirectly Assist with the Negotiations
Location: Surface of Chad

Holding the hand of her daughter in her own, Sith Lady and child watched as the technicians finished the prep work on the squadron worth of droids that Aurora Industries had brought along. The Anemoi Purification Droids had been designed to cleanse atmospheres of harmful pollutants and convert the gases into safer and breathable elements. If the pollutant was too strong or complex to break down that way, they would freeze the trapped gas in carbonite and transport it to a processing facility for offworld shipment. Methane hadn't exactly been classified as a dangerous gas, at least for the engineers designing the droid, when the work had been to purify a world like Lydrax or Raxus Prime.

But it had been relatively easy to adjust the droids to target the large buildups of the greenhouse gas. One successful test and the company would be perfectly happy to provide as many droids as the Chadra-Fan needed... with conditions of course.

"All ready, my Lady," the lead technician reported.

"Nerra, would you like to give the order," Taeli asked her child. The answer was a bright-eyed nod and the little girl tried to stand a little straighter and taller.

"Launch the dwoids," Nerralyn commanded, a giggle escaping her as her mother looked at her with mirth. The engineer snapped a salute, rushing off to give orders to send up the twenty-four droids into the local area. Holographic displays popped up for Taeli, her daughter, and the Chadra-Fan government representative.

"And now, Minister, you shall see how effective the droids will be," Taeli said.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Enemies: [member="Eye of Solomon"] @Keva @Anden Fancelo
Allies: [member="Jair Ordo"] [member="Karsan Munin"]
https://soundcloud.com/dukeandhisbadda/signs-of-victory?in=justin-jeffries-1/sets/muse

"There we go!" the Rebel technician exclaimed as the power converter he'd been fiddling with finally sparked to life. These machines were...Ancient history, from the Old Old Old Republic hundreds of years ago. Most things in this building were, after all it was called the Museum of Republic History. One of the droids sputterd to life, spewing a bumble of words that were incomprehensible. It took a moment, but it finally got its head on straight.

"Where am I? Who are you? Oh no...Are you a Republic Jedi? Please don't turn me into slag!" The droid threw up its arms to protect itself. The Rebel Tech looked at it confused and shook his head.

"I'm no Jedi, and I don't have time to explain, so here." He jammed a cable into the droid's neck and uploaded the Rebel code he'd developed to rewrite the droid. Its eyes flashed red, yellow, then blue.

"Defend this museum!"

"Roger, roger." After activating the commander the rest followed suit. They were deployed from what he could only assume was either a replica or just the component that held the droids compactly before deployment. The arm swung out and the droids unfolded into battle ready state. In unison they bellowed, "Roger, Roger." and walked out of the room.

​

​

________________________________________________

Atin landed with a thud beside Gil and the old man climbed the metal beast. Its engines flared to life and he flew out of the hangar. He spotted the red glow of a lightsaber and bared down on them, turning Atin's shockwave generator rods on her and fired, their energy coalescing into a single destructive attack. The red skinned Iridonian was slaughtering the Rebels and he needed to be stopped.

 

[Anden Fancelo]

Centares, reaching the Airfield.​

[Objective]: II: Eliminate Rebel Forces.​

[Allies]: [member="Keva"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"]​

[Enemies]: [member="Jair Ordo"] | [member="Gilamar Skirata"]

​

---

---

---

​

---

​

With most of the squad posted at some parts of cover, a pair of them advanced down the side and began laying out fire for Maxevan and Fancelo to advance. The firefight ensued, a grazing shot striking a plate on Maxevan's armor but his sprint to a means of cover did not falter.

The communications officer Vaak, looked over the Chiss and contemplated for a moment. Before deciding to go ahead and provide her a grenade. A simple thermal detonator. The man then turned back away to report in an update over to command.

"Advisor, this is Onyx, we have touched down on LZ Filet and we have engaged the enemy! Proceeding through the airfield and on standby for additional tasking! Over!"

The man yelled over to his commlink, as blaster fire began to dig into the concrete slab he laid behind. Speaking more into his commlink.

"Advisor, this is Onyx! Solid copy on last transmission! Out!"

By then, Maxevan and Fancelo made it over to cover. The titan of a man rested his repeater over towards the post and continued his hail of fire. Letting out quite the grunt as he adjusted himself in brace of such a high rate of fire. As for Fancelo, who slid over towards the wall of the warehouse. Began barking orders.

"Ward! Hold position! Sheyl and Jeno, clear out the warehouse next to us!"

"On it boss."

Anden peeked around the corner, taking singular and controlled shots at the distant hostiles. Next thing that came, was the sound of a door being kicked.

 

[Darth Wyyrlok XXIV]

Objective: Negotiate Chad's annexation
Location: Chadra Orbital Station

---

---

---

​

---

​

The table had been set for both dignitaries, tea brewed and ready in an ornate porcelain pot for both of their consumption. Wyyrlok took his with honey, gently swirling the golden liquid with a small spoon as the protocol droid relayed the Stadholder's requests. It consisted of the usual, the Chadra-fan wanted their world and resources unspoiled from rampant Imperial exploitation that had been occurring on worlds like Mandalore, they wanted the Stadholder to serve as the system's Prefect in the Imperial Diet, and they desired the Imperial occupation be as un-invasive as was possible.

Wyyrlok finished stirring, set aside his spoon, and brought the hot liquid to his lips and sipped tentatively. It was good, smooth and invigorating. He placed the cup back on its platter, his eyes looking directly at the Stadholder rather than being drawn to the droid translating his every word.

"The Empire is more than willing to cooperate with the people of Chad on this matter, Stadholder. If more worlds possessed the same sense as yours, then there would be no need for such hard measures to be taken. You do, of course, understand that once Chad has been placed under the suzerainty of the Emperor's protection there will come about several changes. A permanent garrison will need to be maintained in or around the planet, along with a squadron of defense ships to combat piracy and terrorism. A census will be taken to properly account all of the Empire's new subjects, to determine taxation and conscription. Lastly, the Empire will test for Force sensitivity among the Chadra-Fan, any who possess a midichlorian count over a certain threshold will be taken to be trained as Sith on Korriban. It is standard procedure, you see. I know you understand such things."

Though the Stadholder's face betrayed some of the trepidation in agreeing to such terms, there was resignation as well. Resignation in knowing that acquiescence would save his people from almost certain annihilation should they refuse, a prospect that was far more damning than servility. The Stadholder shook his head and spoke several words in his native language, to which the protocol droid turned to look at the Sith Lord and say, "The Stadholder of Chad accepts your terms, Master Sith. He will sign your treaty to officiate the Empire's annexation of the Jospro sector."

Wyyrlok smile and extended one of his hands out towards the Stadholder, which was met by the Chadra-Fan's own, to which they shook in agreement.

"Welcome to the Empire."

 

[Karsan Munin]

Homies: [member="Jair Ordo"] l [member="Gilamar Skirata"]
Not So Much: Literally Everyone Else l Emo Jedi


He stared at the kid for a moment, snatching BACK the carbine from him as he dared to interrupt his murder spree.

"You shouldn't have a fee for revenge, kid."

He picked up the detpacks, dashing out between the hail of blaster fire, bolts of various colors streaking across their covered positions. The Sith were expecting resistance but not a full-fledged counter-attack. The charge of Karsan Munin was something to behold, to say the least. Mostly because of how brutish he was, even while running. He even somehow ran like an angry man. He body checked a Sith, going high with a stupid red lightsaber. Knocking the Sith to the ground made him laugh. Using him as a shield, picking him up by his neck (and crushing his windpipe in the process), and using him to charge at the Sith again-

Now that was just hilarious.

Apparently they either didn't like this guy all that much, or they hated Karsan enough to keep shooting at him. He reached a position of Sith troopers, and with one hand, drew that handy-dandy pistol. Shots to the chest, shots to the face, and one thrown carcass, let him get an advantageous position on the Sith. He took a moment while the Sith regrouped, and primed the detpacks.

All they needed was just a little bit of juice. Contrary to popular belief, any shape charge, explosive, wouldn't explode with heat, pressure, or anything like that. No, all those unsafe measures were abandoned long ago. All was activated by a detonator.

A detonator.

A detonator that he didn't have.

Detpacks in place.

No detonator. No activation.

Crap.

He ran back to the kid, narrowly dodging loose blaster fire. He crouched next to him, returning the favor and finding only a singular target to take the heat from one of his shots. Still, one less.

"Detonator, please."

 

[Akash Guul]

Objective II: The Virgin Centares
Allies: [member="Gilamar Skirata"], [member="Karsan Munin"]
Enemies: [member="Eye of Solomon"], [member="Anden Fancelo"], [member="Keva"]

Jair kept firing calculated shots with the carbine till its mag was done, he then switched to a repeating blaster as the Sith forces drew nearer unfazed by the Rebel's resistance.

"Haar'chak, where the hell is old ass Skirata-" he muttered to himself. A loud turbine sound broke his mumbling and Ordo looked up into the sky where a notorious bes'uliik flew. Mounting it was none other than Gilamar. "Of course he brought a bes'uliik to the Rebels."

Was this Gilamar's way of avenging the loss of Mandalore to the Sith? General of a rebellion not directly involved with the Mando'ad? Jair didn't judge him at all. Everyone had their own ways of giving back, especially when the bickering between Mandos ceased as their homeworld was taken for the first time in...eons. Some led rebellions, others migrated to the frontier Mandalorian worlds where they sought to rebuild, others worked as Mandalorian brigands against the Sith rule and then there were Mandos like Jair who left the Mandalorian worlds seeking fortune and resources through his work as a bounty hunter and mercenary that he returned back home, only retaining some of the fortune to maintain his gear and ship.

Ordo turned around to the voice of the other Mandalorian who somehow came back from the slaughterhouse asking for a detonator. Jair's face beneath the helm went fiery red to pale, to red again.

"I. Gave you. The Detonator." Jair coldly stated. "Did you freaking lose it back there? Fell off your pocket or something?"

He shook his head.

"We need to get that ordnance off or the Sith will overrun is very, very soon."

It was true.

 

[Karsan Munin]

Objective: Overplayed Meme Joke 2
Allies: [member="Gilamar Skirata"] l [member="Jair Ordo"]
Enemies: [member="Eye of Solomon"]

Returning fire before he could yell back at the kid, Karsan put up a single finger to his helmet, trying to collect himself.

"You gave ME the DETPACKS, I assumed YOU had the DETONATOR."

Karsan looked around, trying to think while in a firefight. Not exactly the time to think thoroughly about what a person was going to do.

Karsan had an idea.

Sympathetic detonation.

He looked over at the blaster carbine the kid was using. He quickly swapped his disruptor pistol with the kid's carbine, and turned the setting to a low stun. He looked up at him, pointing outwards.

"Range is all tricky on the stun setting. I shoot the explosive with this, should set it off. Should set the rest off, too. Give us enough time to escape. I need you-" A Sith squad had broken through, and one rounded the corner where the kid and the rebels were. Karsan pointed his wrist at the guy-

And fired a wrist rocket right into his dome. It wasn't a far enough range to let the rocket arm, but it was enough to go right into the Sith's face. He crumpled over, an undetonated wrist rocket lodged in his eye socket.

"Gross."

He turned back to the kid.

"Lay down enough fire to put all these assholes in cover!"

The cover, the Sith were to be taking- was right in the powerful blast area of the detpacks he placed earlier. Overall, a good time.

 

[Jenmae Ophiro]

Location: The Aviary, Centares​

Objective: BYOO {Witchy Stuff}​

Wearing: XXX​

Attending: [member="Rowan Devonshire"]​

---

There were a moment, as the White Witch stared down at the fragile bones that lay in her companion's palm, that realization filled her features. Whatever the Galidranni witch had done with the drawing of her points had caused the luminescence of the bird's remains - fascinating. As her raven haired host made quick work of putting the ichor to use, Jenmae turned her attention instead to the trees around them once more.

A soft breeze, high above them, rustled the canopies. Deadfall from the the trees left the ground covered in a layer of decay that was no uncommon for wooded areas - but based on the glow that suffused so much of the ground around them, and seeped up to the trees, she assumed that whatever had befallen this place had left more than just a taste of death behind.

There was a moment where the sounds of the leaves coupled with the silence that suffused the rest of the grove had her tempted to wander - though the feeling faded as Rowan's familiar set to meowing.

Dark eyes dipped to where the black feline paced at their feet, rising instead as she felt something. Much as the cat had sensed a shift, so too did the Spirits. The sweet sound of leaves gently sliding across one another in the wind was all but drowned out in the rising tide of static in her head. Something was here with them - and it wasn't simply what remained of the birds.

"You do not belong here, begone foul creatures."

There was an anger in the air, and despite the still nature of the place the wraith could sense a rising tide of energy. Much as Mr. Sedgwick's hackles had risen, so too did the hair along the back of the Dathomiri woman's neck lift. Her back straightened as she turned fully to face whatever it was that had come to confront them.

Where her companion chose a shield, the White Witch chose stealth. A quietly hissed word and shadows bled from the branches above them to envelope the woman's form. Stealing away into the trees, Jenmae made her way silently through the massive trunks to flank whatever this entity was. It has seemed primarily interested in the one who had consumed the ichor - and all the better, honestly.

While her powers did not tend to lend themselves to brute force, the pale woman did have a certain proclivity for other things... One shadowy hand rose as the massive creature continued to barrel towards her host, and she reached. Should the creature have a mind, it would find it lanced with a pain that was wholly consuming. Much as nails that had been sharpened to points extended through the air, it would feel as they clawed and crawled into it's mind.

"You are the one who should leave, Spirit..." Her voice would be as searing flame across it's mind, those fingers slowly digging deeper and deeper. "You cannot hope to save this place from us."

 

[Eye of Solomon]

Objective: Kill The Rebels
Location: Centares

---

---

---

​

---

​

Kadurin looked up as the whine of an engine grew louder in his ears.

And barely had enough time to roll out of the way as a metal beast launched a blast of coalesced energy straight at him, which slammed into the ground where he once was and exploded with such force that the Legionnaires who had followed him were either killed outright or scattered about like leaves. The Princeling rolled to a crouched position, his lightsaber reigniting to deflect several blaster bolts from the archaic battle droids who had rushed to fill the gap made by the metal beast's entrance, he directed their blasts back to as many as he could before lashing out with a shockwave to disorient them and knock them off their feet.

Then he turned his attention to the metal beast's rider, "Finally, something worth my time." Kadurin assumed a ready stance, his lightsaber held back in a one-handed grip, angled forwards with the blade arm held parallel while his other hand was held up in a challenge. "I hope you are prepared to die, Mandalorian, to join all those you have failed in death."

Kadurin rushed forward, his speed enhanced by the Force, to slice at the legs of the great metal beast.

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]​

 

[Akash Guul]

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

Objective II: The Virgin Centares
Allies: [member="Gilamar Skirata"], [member="Karsan Munin"]
Enemies: [member="Eye of Solomon"], [member="Anden Fancelo"], [member="Keva"]

Jair stared at the other Mandalorian for a moment before he sighed.

"Feth it."

A disruptor pistol came into his hands as his carbine was given to the Mandalorian.

"Disruptor? How the feth did you end up with it?" as if that was not enough, a swarm of wrist rockets took off his vambrace into a rushing Sith squad. "Wrist rockets too? Did you rob Manda'yaim's depots before it got sacked?"

"Lay down enough fire to put all these assholes in cover!"

"You can count on it with this gun." Ordo felt the weight of the disruptor pistol in his hand.

He started firing the devastating weapon at the invaders with blue moon in his eyes.

The bitter sweet sensation of disgust and joy in seeing people turn to vapor.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

A loose torrent of steam was released from somewhere in the 'head' of the bes'uliik, its eight red photorecptors glowing red underneath heavy hoods of mandalorian iron. Gil didn't bother responding and instead pitched the control yoke forward, sending the beast screaming back at the sith and raised its large right claw to meet the blade of the lightsaber. With strength to rip open the hulls of starships it would have been simple to swat the man aside, but the finesse of a lightsaber duelist with the Force meant nothing was as it seemed.

Instead the beast slowed, to a near stop, shielding its more vulnerable legs from assault. From atop the saddle Gil pulled a heavy blaster rifle from its holster and let loose several bolts at the Sith.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The droids marched ever forward. Scattered by the Sith's attack but still largely operational and marching (or crawling) towards the glorious victory of the CIS! They blasted with their archaic rifles and shouted roger roger.

[member="Jair Ordo"] [member="Eye of Solomon"] [member="Karsan Munin"] @Keva @Anden Fancelo

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective: Indirectly Assist with the Negotiations
Location: Surface of Chad

Nerra giggled happily as the bird-like droids took off into the sky, each of the twenty-four droids separating into zones that Taeli's engineers had designated as heavy in methane concentration. Grabbing a pair of macro-binoculars, she rushed over to the window to watch as the droids began their work. Taeli smiled at her daughter's enthusiasm, but kept one eye on the reaction of the Chadra-Fan representative and his reaction to the droid's readings. The methane readings were dropping rapidly while the oxygen and nitrogen levels started to stabilize.

"Impressive, Lady Arcanix, impressive," the representative remarked.

"Consider them a gift on behalf of the Sith Empire," Taeli said. "Further shipments can be arranged I'm quite sure."

"I shall certainly address the issue with the Stadholder," the representative confirmed. "If your engineers are correct, my planet will be finally free of the storms that have plagued it for generations within a few years. It will be a welcome relief."

Taeli was sure it was, and it was something she was honestly surprised the Silver Jedi or the Mandalorians had never addressed when they had control over these sectors. Perhaps they had deemed it unimportant in the grander scheme of things? It mattered not in the end. Wyyrlok would have convinced the government to join by now, and Centares would be subjugated regardless of what rebels were trying to cause their forces headaches. Hmm now there was an idea, she would need to contact her apprentice, but for now she went to sit by her daughter and watch the droids do their work and enjoy the little girl's happy expressions.

 

[Eye of Solomon]

Objective: Kill The Rebels
Location: Centares

---

---

---

​

---

​

Kadurin rolled to the side, blaster bolts impacting the ground in his wake. He reignited his lightsaber and twirled the bladed staff around in a circle in front of him, deflecting several shots away from him and into the nearby environment. Some of them he even attempted to direct back towards the Mandalorian and his mount, but not very many. Feeling pressured from the Mandalorian and the activated droids around them, the shapeshifter leapt back several meters to give himself some room. He swung one of his blades through a rebel's back in the same stroke that sent a blaster bolt careening towards one of the battle droids, its metallic chassis igniting in a shower of sparks as it tumbled forward.

The battle raged around them, Sith fighters strafing the base grounds while others locked horns with Rebel fighters higher above them. Some damaged ships, Sith and Rebel, crashed down into the hard earth to lacerate nearby friends and foes with burning shrapnel. By now the heavier walkers were moving into position, their footfalls shaking the ground as they approached. It seemed as if the Sith were tightening their noose around the Rebel base.

Prince Kadurin briefly paused in his saber-work to reach out towards the Mandalorian with the Force, attempting to pull him off of his steed and onto the ground. "Come down and fight me, craven!"

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]​