Invasion Darkness Falls // NIO Invasion of TSE held Bastion

[Meshla Detta]

Location: Datacenter, Capital Complex
Objective: Data retrieval, retribution
Allies: SoM, NIO - in the vicinity of Amon Vizsla, Tulan Kor , Ra Vizsla , Hunter Blackburn
Enemies: TSE - in the vicinity of Darth Ophidia, Cara Dorniarn , Nida Perl , Bel'sa'Nikto
Gear: In bio

Heart Of Courage

Mandalore remembers...
I remember...
This is for you, Val'ika, my beloved son.
Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.
_______


<"Meshla, we'll take the brunt of the Sith, find a way to the databases. I won't be late.">

The Detta's helmeted-head turned briefly to watch in awe, well almost, as the young fool of a Mando recklessly engaged his repulsor pack, accelerating him directly into what was left of the fractured Sith legionnaire line; the Vizsla's Darksaber cutting two and fro executing the enemy within reach of the unforgiving laser sword's blade without mercy. It gave her chills, almost.

<"You better not, ner vod. Today is a good day for someone else to die. See you on the other side with the goods,"> Meshla answered with typical Mandalorian flair, then she added something else without thinking in a whispered breath before cutting the comlink between them. <"Stay alive, Amon'ika.">

Adding the sweet endearment onto the end of Amon Vizsla's first name came as a shock to Meshla; probably more so how easily and eerily right it sounded rolling off her tongue... Was it that surprising though? I mean, the two had shared some pretty intimate things with each other back in the quiet of the night on Krieg before the invasion. But, this was not the time nor place to debate this matter with herself. Perhaps if they both survived, the topic could be fleshed out further, but for now her sole focus had to be on getting that data if at all possible.

As Amon's 16th SOM Expeditionary Force "Pre Vizsla" and Tulan's Dorn Company advanced on the Sith forces, Meshla used the distraction and made for the gaping hole in the wall of the Datacenter. Once inside the enemy's battered building, the blue-armored Mando moved swiftly and with much determination through the corridors that were seemingly a bit like a maze, being deliberate in taking out the opposition encountered so as not to waste ammo, energy nor time. The Sith Empire would no doubt try to purge all the information in their databases. Her hope was that she could beat them to it.

The Detta entered into a room at the end of a hall, breaching the security protocol on the door with a little Mandalorian ingenuity. The room was dark except for the light provided by a bank of servers that seemed to be still up and running. The schematics from ISB uploaded to her HUD were indeed correct. Give an atta boy to the spooks for once.

Her buy'ce immediately adjusted to the dimness so Meshla could see better spotting a terminal near the center of the bank. She set down the carried L3 River Rifle to the side of the data station, then pulled out a small datapad from a pouch on her utility belt and attached it to the server terminal. Meshla wasn't the best slicer, but a cousin of hers, well actually a cousin of her mothers who had a storied past, had shown a youthful Meshla a trick or two while she was visiting the Keldabe homestead that now no longer existed after the massive earthquake caused by a past Mand'alor's hands leveled the old capital of Mandalore.

The scramble key used took longer than the Mando had hoped to be allowed into the network and access files that pertained to the main areas Amon and she had discussed surrounding the issues about his sister and her son, but nonetheless in she had gotten. If anything else useful was gathered, it would be as they say icing on the cake. Gods know they both needed to find closure in order to move forward. Inserting a datacard, Meshla didn't waste any more time and started the download... Not long after that is when the door to the room slid open and a team of Sith troopers stepped inside.

"Hey you, stop what you're doing and put your hands up!" one of the men called out as they moved into a semi-circle behind her.

​

Meshla didn't hesitate, spinning around on her booted heels to attack the troopers, drawing her ripper and bringing her beskad to bear upon them. Being outnumbered was a tricky situation, but if you could whittle the enemy down in half or more in the first few seconds, then there was a chance to come away with a positive outcome.

It had been a good dance until the last trooper got off a lucky shot that struck her left arm just below where the shoulder plate covered. The blaster burn stung like a son of a bantha. but adrenaline kept Meshla hungry for the victory and the trooper paid for it dearly. After the troopers were taken care of she returned to the terminal to retrieve the flash drive as the screen said the download was finished, then slipped the precious asset under her breastplate into a protected pocket between the valley of her bosom.

Stepping over the dead bodies sprawled across the floor in the server room, the Detta exited out the door and fled back down the hallway with hopes of reuniting with the 16th...

<"Amon, this is Meshla... Where are you? My task is finished.">

 

[Anden Fancelo]

Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO, Darth Bellum
Assets: What is left of the Gravewalkers.​

---

[Assault - Avery Alexander]

---

​

On the planes of the soon to be former capital. The battle raged on within many fronts, some were lost and some were won. The New Imperial Order was a force of aggression, one that has carved their way over to the Capital. This was not just a typical battle of attrition, there was a statement to be made here. One that may decide who will be the victor after the many battles to come.

Vestille's former Field Army were all deposited onto this effort. Each with their own tasking. With the Gravewalkers tasked with supporting fronts that were losing.

The Captain of the Gravewalkers found himself concealed behind a broken barrier, meters away from advancing stormtroopers. Clutching a heavy repeater over his chest. With the opposing troopers not paying mind to what might be on the other side of the barrier, for they had something bigger to be worried about: the suppressive fire from the mixture of Gravewalkers and Sith troopers. Within the heat of the exchange of blaster bolts, the captain laid there patiently.

"Now sir!" A voice let out from his commlink.

The signal was given, now action must follow. A shaky hand went over to his belt and he primed a stun grenade, a high chimed beep was given as confirmation. And the captain tossed it over the broken barrier he laid beside. The Stormtroopers that were close enough to witness the device scattered almost but it was too late, blindness took effect. And within the ringing and panicking from their voices, the hum of a repeater spinning its barrels came about as Anden rose from his piece of concealment and began letting out an overcharged sweep of blaster fire onto the squad of stormtroopers with support from allies in the rear.

With the majority of the stormtroopers on that avenue being dealt with, but more to come soon. Onyx had done their part in giving the sith troopers they aided, a brief respite to better prepare for the next wave.

Anden handing back the repeater was later approached by his communications operator. "Sir, advisor's requesting we head to POI Djun and deal with the Imperials there. I've sent Nexu 1-3 to support this squad. With 1-4 and 1-2 heading over to rendevous with us."

The leader tilted his head to the side, underneath his helmet and inquisitive brow was raised. "It's that bad?"

The fellow grave walker nodded. "Most of the 'sithtroops' are down along with the Sith attached."

"Then we better get moving, inform advisor that we are en route." The Captain turned over to his squad. "Onyx, get moving over to POI Djun. 240 meters on our bearing three-fifty-two. Double time!" With that order barked out, the response was fast as it always was.

---

Minutes later...

With Onyx and the other squads reaching their destination, staying concealed from the view of the gargantuan siege droid. It didn't take long to realize that the droid was not targeting sith forces. Instead, it was after something coming from the Imperial's side of the battle. The droid was combatting Vexen and his Dragoon units. The captain took a shaky breath and looked over to his troopers. This battle was a gamble, and the Gravewalkers were all in.

"Time to give them a light show." With a wave of his hand, he directed over towards the Dragoons advancing over towards the siege droid. "Take those soldiers out!" With that order, green bolts of energy were shot over to the Dragoons.

An ambush commenced, abusing the internal conflict between the droid and them.

 

[Stilicho Drumarch]

Imperial Capital Complex, Ravelin
Lobby
Objective: Meet the 57th Platoon
Focus: Grigory Tallis | Emmalene Thul (NPC)
Score​

“As long as my people can make it to the front lines, handle your platoon as you see fit Major. I’ll be down in a moment.”

Salvor clicked his commlink off and made his way to the elevator where the remainder of soldiers were standing at attention on either side of the door. He marched up between the rows and was overcome by a feeling of both dread and sorrow. He had lost so many good soldiers, veterans that he had called friends since before this hell of a civil war. He dreaded leading them down the tower and back into the battle.

The elevator was too small to carry all of the battle chapter, so a few trips up and down the tower were required. Salvor accompanied the first load with a heavy weight in his heart. When the elevator doors slid open at the bottom he felt relaxed at the sight of friendlies, and it was clear that his soldiers felt the same way. They hadn’t seen friendlies since they broke from the Lord-General’s forces hours ago. The New Imperial flametroopers they had just joined seemed less than thrilled at their arrival. The ground was littered with charred corpses, and if it weren’t for Salvor’s helmet he imagined the smell would be horrific.

“Stay vigilant,” he said to his soldiers, although it felt more like a vow to himself. He approached Major Tallis casually and drew his binoculars from his belt. “Solid work Major, I doubt those loyalists will come now that we’ve arrived.” He observed the Sith-Imperial troopers in the distance, indeed moving away from the Capital Complex, no doubt to reinforce the slaughter at the palace. At this rate the complex would be completely occupied by the invaders within a few hours, provided that the enemy had nothing hidden up their sleeves and the assault on the palace was a success.

“Salvor! The Darths will not wait for us!” Emmalene called abruptly to him from behind in her dark voice.

Salvor turned around to see Emmalene and the remaining troops marching into lobby guns raised to their chests ready to snap into combat at any moment, much the opposite of his arrival. He figured Emmalene had scared them into readiness as she so often did. She herself held her inactive lightsaber in her hand and not on her belt. She clearly meant business.

Salvor released a sigh and hesitantly agreed. “I know, but we can afford these men a few minutes to recoup.” He knew she wouldn’t stand for his order, but she was simply an attaché to the battle chapter regardless of how much power she thought she wielded. She didn’t understand soldiers like Salvor did. Most Sith didn’t. The Sith host fought mostly autonomously, placing themselves under Sith masters willingly when the time came. He could almost guarantee that every soldier in the service of the warlords was eager to fight under Darth Avernus. He couldn’t say the same for those fighting under his sister.

With another roll of her eyes that Salvor could add to his endless tally of, she backed down. The Death Knell chapter began to take seats around the 57th Platoon, although not much was said between them.

“I apologize Major. My sister does not know her place.” He said quietly to Tallis before walking away...

 

[Jain]

Theme: Manipulation
Main Objective: Gotterdamerung
Present Location: Fortress Carnifex
Coordinated Allies: None
Umbrella Allies: TSE
Coordinated Enemies: Lyra Voi'kryt
Umbrella Enemies: NIO
Post 2: The Conduit of Despair vs The Vindicated Commander - Part Three

There was a silent tension between them before the Megalith had charged, her innate senses picking up feelings of despair and doubt within the woman at the mentioning of the man’s name. She held such hatred for him. Such utter loathing that - if made physical - it could wash away all life in Bastion like a dark, colorless ocean. It was...strangely inviting - perhaps even intoxicating - to what lay within the heart of the Megalith who snarled at the Commander’s demand.

“If you know my name, maybe you ought to fuck off?”​

Yes. It was this ever-strengthening anger that fueled Voi’kryt each second this fight went on, fed the desire for eradication. Jain could sense that as well. A thirst to kill and maim. A thirst that would not be quenched, if the Megalith had her way. And she would.

"You will die," she had growled the millisecond before she threw the first haymaker. 45% effectiveness for the sedatives. I can feel the Conduit awakening, burbling like a cauldron and reaching up from its heaven-fell bed.

Sudden pain - sharp and jagged heat knives - brought spots to her vision as the haymaker missed by mere centimeters. The electric judgment that shot forward had been, surprisingly, the last thing she had expected to spark from the commander. Blue currents arced against her armorless limb, knocking her back tripping over the debris, licking flesh and searing open a portion of the black-tinted scars now visible in the dying daylight. Thick red liquid of a corrupted and painful nature - more ooze than blood - seeped from this wound as the Megalith swung with all her available might. The liquid was just another agonized memory of what her husband did to make her this way - to turn her into the freak of nature that she is. Infallible. Unconquerable. Unbeatable. He had said that to her many times in the dead of night as she was hooked to his machines, conditioned to be his champion. And she had cherished this task, even when he had forgotten his memories after so many deaths - and she embraced it anew when he regained them and called upon her, at last, only weeks ago for this very day.

She had tears in her eyes when he said the same words as before, as if on repeat: You are slaughter. A recreation of myself from days long dead in the Galaxy's memory. You will go forth unchallenged and never fail. I have deemed this so for you.

And yet, here she stood with rivers of the sickeningly viscous substance tainting her flesh and armor, the most damage she has ever taken from a single opponent. It was shocking enough - pleasurable enough to the Conduit - to bring a chuckle to mind and almost to those around her, but she stopped herself. This was not enjoyable. This was war - battle. Kill and win. That was all there was for her. Enjoyment in slaughter belonged to Kascalion. Not her.

“Oh I didn’t plan on it to day-no not yet, but perhaps I will pay him a visit after I am done here. He owes me a vast debt.”
​

"You will not live to even draw breath near him," the Megalith hissed, a stream of spit falling from her lips.

The responding kick had landed well and clearly repressed some of that building confidence. Before she could end the fight with a downward stomp, a rain of blaster fire descended on her position. This caused her to take momentary cover behind a clump of debris and lead the bolts with rapid sprints - even still, the screaming crimson flashes charred parts of her arm with grazes and connected with her fracturing armor. Before long, as her target rose to her feet, all that was protecting her from the increasingly agitated New Imperials was a smoldering speeder. Aggravation was rising in her heart and the Megalith challenged it with four open palm smacks to her temple accompanied by growls. Unbeknownst to her, the veins inside her defined body were beginning to darken with the black fire of misguided outrage.

“But do tell me what’s it like being used by that psychotic monster? Don’t tell me you’re so base, that you’ve been led willingly to this field by the nose. I pity you, I couldn’t imagine it but here you are-someone so disgustingly complacent, or do you enjoy his degeneracy? You married that thing? Do you wake up at night haunted knowing the monstrosity you’re bound to, does he torture you I wonder?”
​

The screaming - no, wailing - outburst of anger was almost instantaneous like the same blasters that were previously firing upon her. Heavy cracking footfalls across the shattered streets brought her to Voi'kryt's position in seconds. "You shall not speak such slurs!" she cried, throwing another fist towards her foe.

The sharp, quick hit broke the commander's defenses, but it was only enough to damage her armor. And all Voi'kryt did was laugh - an infuriating sound - and braced against the remaining series of attacks that the Megalith had intended to unleash upon her. Nothing hit as hard as they could have, and weakness - exhaustion - began to plague Jain's body. It was coming. The Conduit was awakening and she tried all that she could to prevent it, but it would amount to nothing. Her own deeply set intrigue for all things arcane and archaic had turned into a ravenous raven-beast, bit her on the throat, and left her bleeding in the field for the carrion birds. Would she be able to return after it broke free? Would her husband find her and...turn her again? Sedate her with His vials and His wires and His disgusting aptitude for mental reconfiguration?

No. Those are dissident thoughts. Do not think them for He will know. He always knows and you always pay. Don't think of them. Don't think of them. Don't think of them.

​

She silently cursed to herself as the hailstorm of rubble pelted her body despite her attempts at blocking with her undamaged arm - shattering what remained of the armor protecting it and bringing rippling flesh into sight. A subtle crack signified the snapping of an unprotected forearm, but she could not feel the pain.

“-Do you thank him?' Now that’s the question? Surely you know how much blood and bodies he’s dredged-his sheer mania. Look at you though, I can see it in your eyes-you’re not really there. Barely human-do you actually love him? I am dying to know, how can you?”​

She was right. This lonesome queen who knew nothing of the real world and pain and suffering and loss of a scale so magnificently terrible that all sense of happiness and joy was burned to a crisp as if they were angels falling from the heavens above...she was right. There was nothing inside her. Nothing that could constitute Jain being a sentient human with her own free will and ideals. There was only Him, pain, and rage held inside a brittle iron cage that shook with every waking day.

And before she could respond to the statement, agree with her, and wish her nothing but a hateful blessing of luck in the face of what was to come...he hit her. Tackled her away from the commander and into a nearby wall barely together. She did not know who it was or what he looked like. All she saw was the armor of the Red Riders and felt his strength catch her off guard.

And then, the cage snapped open. Sedatives failed. The Conduit is free. I am sorry, Kascalion.

Crystal blue tears fell from her eyes as they shifted into a burning magenta and the flesh around them was charred away to reveal black flames rising in the air. The armor on her body cracked and fell apart in chunks, leaving her in nothing more than her torn and sleeveless body glove. Featherless and skinless wings of a semi-corporeal nature split her shoulder blades and sprawled against the wall like a bloody white painting. The Devil's symbol, initially grey and transparent, burnt itself onto her forehead and bled the same color as her eyes. Her veins were black with the fire that spewed from her eyes, and the scars on her arms were now as prominent as the ash and dust falling like snow and rain. Her broken limbs reshaped and healed back into place, fixing the damage that had been done and replacing it with a new hurt, a new pain. A roaring, piercing scream of torment and utter madness escaped her tearing throat as she unleashed a violent wave of the Force, pushing the Zabrak away like a dark tornado.

Falling to her hands and knees, wings folding against the ground, the Conduit coughed and choked as the transformation finalized. Every bit of torture that was inflicted upon her by all that she encountered over the years, hit her at once. It was beyond painful. A numb yet traumatizing feeling. Cold and burning. Her eyes, hidden in the flames, looked upon her target - her prey - and she snarled in fury. This woman, this random encounter with Lyra Voi'kryt, had brought out the Conduit - a creature that knew only misery and woe and desired, above all else, the destruction of worlds and people to soothe what she felt.

The Conduit rose to her feet, fists gripped and nails digging into flesh. The ethereal wings unfolded and flung the woman into the air, high beyond the smoke and the clouds. In the sky, she remained for but a second before descending back down to the streets and colliding with the last tank in the Red Rider's armored line with an elbow drop. The armored vehicle dented inward and burst apart the same instant, sending shrapnel across the streets like spears. The Conduit rose unharmed - relatively - and her firey gaze set upon those soldiers that had yet to make it to the front lines where Fortress Carnifex awaited.

"Suffer me now..." the Conduit uttered with unmoving lips to those looking upon her. A flex of her wrist and the Force brought the discard Arg'garok back to her hand from beneath the rubble. Its blade was chipped and its handle was scorched, but that only meant more effort was needed to the Conduit who smiled a fanged smile.

Thus began the slaughter.

 

[Mazrim Caide/Taim]

Objective: 3

Tags: Ruek Tast IO-21

Caide ducks through a smoking hole into the dark and foreboding corridors of the crashed star destroyer, his breath even and calm as he traverses the small city sized wreck with his blaster held high and his cross-hare firmly placed at head level. Supposedly, the sniper he had been ordered to support was operating out of this mess somewhere. Other soldiers might have been worried about the dark and cramped conditions, but Caide preferred them. He was most comfortable in close quarters, which is why he was still wondering why command had sent him to support a sniper. What could Ruek Tast , the name he'd been given, possibly need the help of a cqb expert for? But then, he wasn't paid to think about motives, he was paid to execute orders. Suddenly, he hears footsteps clanking on the metal grating of the shut down reactor core below him. Quickly, he ducks behind a section of collapsed corridor and glances down into the gaping hole leading to the reactor chamber....

 

[FN-999]

LOCATION: FORTRESS CARNIFEX | IMPERIAL BOULEVARD
ALLIES IN VICINITY: NIO | Caulder Dune
ENEMIES IN VICINITY: TSE | Ingrid L'lerim (engaging) | AMCO | Aren D'Shade
FN-999 EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE + SBR-60x Particle Rifle (empty mag) + Devestator Particle Magcannon (currently equipped)

CAPTAIN FN-999 OF THE 19TH ASSAULT COMPANY

The wind was knocked out of the captain's lungs as he was sent flying backwards.
​

Apparently he had underestimated the woman's agility, as she had easily dodged his blow and was now using the Force to throw him backwards. He landed thirty meters away, rolling backwards before regaining his footing. Behind him, the sound of heavy weaponry firing became noticeable. As it seemed, the Sith woman had thrown him back nearly all the way to the breach he had entered through. Still, he would not give up yet. But before the captain could launch his next attack, he heard a heavy footstep behind him. He turned around to see a massive, heavily armored humanoid figure three meters away, a large vibroaxe in its hands raised in an execution position.

There was no possibility of blocking such a powerful strike.

There was no possibility of evading such a swift strike.

There was no possibility of stalling such a heavily armored figure, not with Iustitia alone.

Yet the axe did not descend.

Instead, a hole with a diameter of ten centimeters opened up in the being's armor, piercing all the way through its body and then back out through its back plate. The large armored figure clutched the hole in its torso before its legs gave way, the being falling to the ground about a meter away from FN-999. Behind it was a trooper he identified as Pvt. Suppressor, sweating heavily and kneeling on a knee opposite to a dark and bloodied leg. In his hands was exactly the type of weapon the captain was looking for.

"Thank you, Suppressor." called out FN-999, genuine happiness entering his voice. "Once I take the cannon, do you think you can stand?"

"Not in this condition." replied Suppressor, gritting his teeth as pain shot through his torn left leg.

"Well, I'm not letting you die here." continued FN-999. "Just stay behind me, and everything will be all right."

The captain deactivated and sheathed Iustitia, reaching for the magcannon in the private's hands. The weapon was exchanged, and FN-999 adjusted his grip on the cannon as he pointed its barrel at the woman conveniently distanced from him.

"Consider this a merciful end." stated FN-999 to the Sith agent before sending a large bolt of plasma from the magcannon directly at the woman's chest.
​

​

19TH ASSAULT COMPANY MAIN
LOCATION - "The Strip" OUTSIDE FORTRESS CARNIFEX
ALLIES IN VICINITY - Agrippa (Gladius Company), Ravraa Vyshraal (Dorn-02)

107/200

One by one, the Sith shocktroopers fell.

Yet they continued to march forwards.
​

Despite the 19th's best efforts to maintain a healthy distance, they could not stay out of the range of the shocktroopers forever. After all, they had a fortress to siege and a captain to defend. Even if he were to receive his mass driver as requested, there was no telling how long it would extend his life for. Seconds? Minutes? Against such a deadly and cunning opponent, the survival of Captain Nines might depend entirely on the speed of the 19th. And being an assault company, speed was not something the 19th excelled at.

The Sentinels began to enter melee range, swinging their axes in wide arcs, smashing through steel beams and concrete outcroppings with little effort. Even Captain Nines, who was notorious for his talent with a blade, would likely find it very difficult to engage such troopers head-on. Those troopers of the 19th unlucky enough to find themselves in the path of the axes of the Sentinels were torn to shreds, most decapitated but some split in half or thirds.
​

LT FN-274 "Mad Gunner"
​

The Mad Gunner had abandoned his machine gun emplacement minutes prior, moving up to support the 19th's second charge. Now he wielded just his pistol and a large combat knife, their light weight making it easy for the lieutenant to close the distance between himself and the front lines. About five meters ahead, a Sentinel was engaging a group of 19th stormtroopers, their flames and bullets struggling to make any significant impact on its armor. It raised its axe to the right, indicating a horizontal swing.

"FALL BACK!!!" yelled the Mad Gunner to the troopers engaging the Sentinel.

But it was too late.

The Sentinel swung its vibroaxe at a blinding speed, decapitating three of the five troopers instantly and throwing a fourth meters away. Blood exploded from where their necks once were, showering the nearby area in a pool of red. The same red that began to fill the Mad Gunner's eyes as rage threatened to overtake him. He would never again allow for such a scene - never again witness what he and Nines had on that day so many years prior. He would do everything in his power to annihilate the damned Sentinel, even if it cost him his own life.

Letting out a passionate battle cry, the Mad Gunner lunged towards the Sentinel. It turned its face up, away from the fifth trooper laying injured on the ground nearby. It raised its axe to the left, indicating another horizontal swing. Just as the axe's blade soared to the right, FN-274 slid down on his back, the vibroaxe soaring centimeters over his head. The Mad Gunner returned to a standing position and closed the distance, sticking his combat knife in an opening in the Sentinel's right knee plate.

It sunk multiple centimeters inside the Sentinel's flesh, causing it to let out a cry of agony. Then, it lashed out with its right arm, hurling the Mad Gunner into a pile of twisted steel three meters away. The wires poked and prodded at his skin through his remaining armor, bringing new agony to old wounds. But the lieutenant bit through his pain and rose up from the ground, pistol raised.

For the sake of his company, FN-274 began his sacrificial pursuit. ​

​

​

 

[Aerith Krayt]

Location: Fortress Carnifax
Enemy: Lirka Ka
Gear: Armor/ Rest in Bio.

Aerith felt all the air in her suit be sucked out as she felt the blades detach in her hand. Her attempt at a counter attack had failed, as the two blades pulled back, melting and cutting off her left hand in the process, and leaving her looking like a fool as she slashed at the empty air. Taking a moment to step back and look at the melted metal that was left of her hand, reminders of Borosk came crawling back into her mind, as that sense of powerlessness returned. Trembling, she clenched her vibro-ax in her remaining arm, ignoring the beeping that came from the onboard AI. Had she really only come this far just to fail? Had all the pain and suffering she subjected herself to been for nothing? The embers that had fueled her rage induced state began to flicker and die, as she felt as if her heart had been torn out of her chest. Beaten so handily, and with so little to show? What was the point of this.

Though, just as she felt defeated, her adversary served to remind her just why she was fighting.

Lirka's words only served to rekindle the rage within the cyborg. Submit to slavery? Serve as a loyal pawn in the empire once again? No. Never. She'd die here and now to ensure that fate wouldn't befall her. Lirka might not have given into her blood rage, but Aerith certainly did. Ignoring the warnings that blared in her helmet. It was a futile gesture, one that wouldn't bring her any glory, no recognition. She wasn't going back into slavery. She wasn't going to let them violate her mind ever again. It was foolhearty perhaps, definitely stupid, but that didn't matter here and now. Rushing to engage her opponent, Aerith swung wildly, just trying to make contact with this illusive adversary. If it got her killed, well, at least she would die fighting.

 

[Onrai]

Post: 3
Objective: Continue to engage NIO fleet units, take advantage of Hiram's pinned ship
Allies: Grand Moff Aut-X Moon Seo-Yun
Enemies: Hiram Voss Olen Halcorr

Another bombardment of seeker baradium missiles was underway, joined by the missiles launched from the Sovereign Elites' own tubes. One, the Autarch, turned towards the impaled Endeavour and charged its main beam weapon at point blank range, firing directly amidships at the immobile cruiser's side. The hope of the Autarch's commander was that this would minimize the effectiveness of boarding actions and prevent further damage to the battlecruiser from boarding parties. It would also force the surviving crew of the ship to surrender or die depending on the end results of the inevitable battle occurring within the hulls of both ships.

The other three battlecruisers continued to engage the other remaining fleet assets of Hiram's, doing their best with their ultra-heavy, super-heavy, and light beam weapons to continue to inflict whatever damage they could against enemy targets.

In the battle with Red Squadron, damaged ships began to withdraw from the engagement as a truine of Eightguns moved to open fire on an X-Wing pursuing Moon's TIE. Hopefully the twenty-four xasers would be enough to get it off her back.

 

[Tulan Kor]

​

Allies: Amon Vizsla l NIO
Enemies: Nida Perl l Cara Dorniarn
Objective: Fight?


"I realized that it was all cyclical- it all came back."


He looked down at her, pitying her for a moment when she looked up at him. She was scared. So was he. But she made her choice?

Right?

The Grim Reaper himself stood over Nida and Tulan, ready to close Nida's eyes and take her into the dark void beyond. The sweet, nevermore was welcoming Nida. But Nida wasn't planning on letting Tulan killing her. He went to stab her, and then stopped, realizing the hair on his arms was standing up. The air around him grew with static.

He looked down at her fingers, fear-

Fear then overtook his eyes instead of hers.

Tulan was launched backwards, the lightning arc traveling through his body. It hurt terribly, beyond words, beyond comprehension. Every muscle in his body cried out, every nerve ending shot up in electrical pain. His brain was overloaded, his mouth screaming for an end to the suffering- but his soul kept fighting. He stood, as the explosions rocked the area around him. A piece of metal flew by from one of the walls, floors- somewhere, and slashed across Tulan's face. Tulan couldn't even register the damage and brutality he took to the face. His face was mangled, bleeding- smaller pieces littered his shoulder, collarbone.

He continued to advance, thinking of all that Nida and him went through. The parties, the celebrations, the battles. The search for Thal. The love he watched grow between Thirdas and her.

She threw it all away.

She betrayed everyone. For a lie.

And he was going to kill her.

His knife came down, despite the lightning, despite the blood on his face-

And he stopped, after grabbing her hand, ceasing her lightning from shooting out of her fingertips. He held the knife high, perfectly poised to end it all. Nida was at his mercy. Weak, bleeding. She was the enemy.

Right?

He wasn't seeing Nida anymore. He was seeing himself. A young, scared man in the same way she was. He made his choice then.

Just like he made his choice now.

His knife fell down, clattering on the ground beside her. He knelt beside her, raggedly breathing thanks to her attack. He let her hand drop, freely to her side. He reached to the side of his battle belt, removing his first aid kit. He produced a flexclamp- lifting up her leg just enough, clamping down hard on her leg, grunting as it was difficult, with his hands shaking and all. He watched her bewildered expression, and applied a bacta spray to the direct cut. It wouldn't replace the blood loss, but it would prevent an infection, and stop the bleeding.

And save Nida's life.

He crouched near her, looking over at her. Looking at her.

He said so a lot without saying anything. He was apologetic, forgiving, understanding, and compassionate, without so much as a word. He stepped back, applying what remained of the bacta spray to his face. He blinked several times, before crouching once more- removing Amon's knife from her person. He left her his. He stopped, just before picking up his helmet, his hands shaking due to the violence that they both endured and inflicted.

"If there's any doubt to what you're doin'- you know that it ain't right."

He stood up, placing the helmet over his face, making sure his night vision stayed up. He turned, picking up the rifle he dropped at the beginning of their encounter, heading to join Dorn Company on the rest of the assault on the data facility.

As he jogged along, Tulan thought it would be funny to kick a stupid little droid as hard as he could that was near one of the terminals.

​

 

[Vaulkhar]

Honor in death...

Joycelyn Zambrano ​

“At times because of one man’s evil, ten thousand people suffer. So you kill that one man to let the tens of thousands live. Here, truly, the blade that deals death becomes the sword that saves lives.”​

- Yamamoto Tsunetomo, Hagakure​

Joycelyn's words spilled over the battlefield, louder than the distant sound of explosions and screams. They rushed closer to Vaulkhar, flooding his senses with the intent behind each syllable, spoken with the confidence begotten of past battles. The Bastard felt the corner of his lip turn up in a smirk. His fingers tightened around the lightsaber hilt in his right hand, knuckles whitening from the growing tension. It took everything he had not to throw himself at the woman before him. She mirrored their wretched father. A living shadow of the merciless Emperor, she stood tall, as he did. Her words carried his regal bearing. But worst of all, she murdered those who stood against her, in the name of the craven Kaine Zambrano.

"I wouldn't miss Bastion's fall, sister," Vaulkhar called out, moving towards the towering halfbreed. "As for my men," he glanced back at the New Imperials. "They know what they signed on for when they took up arms against our father's regime. If they fear death, they would not have come to see the end of the Sith's control of Bastion," he marched past a number of her black-armored soldiers. He could feel their eyes trained on him, armor creaking as tension flooded their bodies. A traitor stood within reach. A blemish on the empire, one they could wipe away with a single thrust of the blade. Vaulkhar offered them no more than a knowing grin as he stopped a dozen steps from Darth Vornskr II.

The thrumming tip of his glowing blade pointed off to the side, yet Vaulkhar was not without his defenses. His grip on the weapon remained tight, his right arm slightly bent in preparation for a strike or swing. The knowing warrior would see his position for what it was. One taken in defense, yet prepared to strike at the drop of a dime.

"Against my better judgment, I will offer you the chance to surrender, sister," he announced his intent. "I hold no illusion that you will take this offer, yet I feel it prudent to present it to you nonetheless," his gaze left Joycelyn, the Bastard's crimson eyes rolling over the sea of dark garbed soldiers on both sides. "Our family has wrought unparalleled destruction on the galaxy for generations. Carnifex will not be the last Dark Lord. Though his fear of death leads him on a quest to find true immortality, it is unlikely he will live to see the galaxy's end. He will fall. As will the Sith, and the Jedi," his brow furrowed, expression hardening with each passing second. "Together, we can turn our kin away from our father's corrupting touch. We can make amends for the evils brought unto the cosmos by our line. You need only free yourself from the malign powers you willfully bend to."

He wandered closer, lightsaber still held to the side. "The true battle is far larger than you, father, or I will ever be. Open your eyes, sister."

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

Market: Imperial Capital Complex, Ravelin City, Bastion
Investment: Objective I - Gotterdammerung
Portfolio: Skystas Rieve iv Tave Daboti Dvasi | Vokti Mekn iv Siarbras Naudot | Vaizdas iv Auksas | Sith-Imperial Military Uniform
Assets: TSE
Liabilities: Auteme | NIO
Stocks: V

---

Tithe had been on the frontlines when the schism first dawned.

He’d helped expand and fortify the borders of Sector Group II. As the newly appointed governor, he’d been responsible for strengthening the region against the march of the New Imperial Order. But nothing could have prepared the Sith Empire for the ferociousness of the Mygeeto and Muunilinst campaigns. Their enemy washed over their carefully crafted defences and soon planted their flags on both banking worlds. For Tithe it was a double blow - neither Sector Group II nor his beloved Banking Clan ever fully recovered from the crushing defeats.

Even since, he’d fought to regain his influence and power within the Empire, to escape the schism before it swallowed him up.

---

The young Jedi was smart. She identified his rank plaque and pieced together that he was behind the propaganda broadcasts. Rightly so, she suggested that his escape would not be a simple task. Anti-Sith propoganda continued to blast over the hijacked Sith-Imperial News Network broadcast system.

”The Sith lie to your every day. They will give you a medal, Legionnaire, but only after you are dead.”​

Tithe cursed, begrudgingly agreeing with her assessment. His carefully laid plans had been contingent on getting away before his betrayal was detected. If the Jedi had figured it out, the security forces couldn’t be too far off coming to the same conclusion.

He leaned back against the wall of the alley, suddenly feeling unsteady on his feet.

Betrayal.

For the first time, he accepted his actions for what they were. He’d rationalised the hijack of the SINN studio as a simple business transaction - he planted the hack, and in return, he was given protection and a chance to rebuild his wealth. His careful analysis of the situation had failed to account for the emotions of the Sith. Betrayal of the Empire and the throne was considered a heinous crime. Even the protection promised to him may not be enough.

”You have lost this war, Legionnaire, the Sith will leave you behind.”​

His stomach churned in abstract fear as his mind imagined the horrors that would befall him in Sith detention. But just when he thought he was about to vomit, the Jedi offered a glimmer of hope.

A formal pardon.

The plan had always been to rebuild his life after defecting, and most importantly, his wealth. A pardon by the Galactic Alliance senate would expedite both goals. The visions of dungeons horrors quickly gave way to the most powerful motivating force Aerarii knew - credits.

Finding a composure previously absent, the Moff stood up straight and dusted debris from the shoulder of his teal uniform. His carefully laid plans were out the airlock, but that didn’t mean that fortune no longer favoured him. Through this Jedi, a path to freedom was possible.

“Legionnaire, your starfighters bomb your own men - you are not safe here.​

“No,” he replied.

“No, not the palace, it’s too well inured,” he explained. He waved his finger as he tried to recall if there was a less guarded place nearby where Force artefacts were stored. He’d never bothered himself with them - their resell value was notorious volatile - but thankfully Bastion would be littered with them.

“Ah, yes, but of course - the Great Library,” Tithe exclaimed as he snapped his fingers. There were holocrons aplenty stored amid the ancient tomes. His code cylinder may not get them into the inner sanctum, but surely a Jedi would have the necessary means.

He pointed central tower of the library complex, visible above the neighbouring buildings. It would be a short jog to reach it.

“May I propose that we, ah, make all haste,” he added. The deafening sounds of the deadly conflict between the Sith Empire and the New Imperials seemed to be drawing nearer.

The window to escape was quickly closing.

 

[Bastard]

Vella Forte | Rurik Fel

"A handful of men, inured to war, proceed to certain victory, while on the contrary, numerous armies of raw and undisciplined troops are but multitudes of men dragged to the slaughter."​

- Publius Flavius Vegetius Renatus​

Errant turned away from the Knight-Commander at his order. The Echani's instincts shouted back at him, demanding he turn about and face the dreaded Shadow Hand beside his master. Bastion demanded blood to win the day. The Albino's duty was to provide blood in full, be it his or the filthy Sith skulking through the city streets. Still, to question Rurik's command would be no different than declaring the Knight-Commander, an incompetent. The Fel-descendent earned his station in service to the New Imperial Order at its inception, carving his way through Sith cultists surrounding Nirauan. To challenge that on the eve of their most significant victory would prove a graver insult than the Sith's defacing of the Imperial Knight's glorious gardens.

Bravado aside, the Knight knew better than to face the Shadow Hand. The Sith's power dwarfed Errant's. Even being there would endanger Rurik by forcing the master to fend for himself and his student. And if Errant had any hope in seeing the closest thing he had to a father again, it meant being as far away from their battle as possible.

"Forte," Errant called out to the Sith, sucking in a breath as her scarred face turned to face him. "We are meant to move deeper into the complex and clear away whatever filth has made it home," he stopped beside her, his elegant white tresses cascading around his gray armored form. "If you are willing and able, I would have you at my side during the slaughter," two thin, pale lips turned into a cruel smile. "Perhaps we can make sport of hunting your brethren. I'd wager you're a competent killer. Mayhaps you can share with me what technique you favor when facing your kin."

Allowing himself another moment of selfishness, Errant's pale gaze followed the red covering of her elegant scarring. He yearned to reach out and touch the ruined flesh. Try as he might, the Knight knew he could not deny the taboo hunger he felt for Vahl's daughter. Vella, a product of Sith trickery and cult-like worship, was a ripe fruit barred from the Albino's slender fingers. And it infuriated him.

Regardless of her answer, the Imperial Knight turned about. His gray gloak fluttered about him in a practiced flourish, falling aside to reveal the lightsaber hilt hanging at his side. He trudged forward, pale gaze trained on the distant shape of an approaching force.

From the beginning of the battle, the Gardens of Pellaeon raged as Imperial and Sith forces clashed within. Neither Rurik nor Errant were the first of the New Imperial Order's men to storm the garden. They weren't even the first to seize control of the complex. They were just the latest to arrive and have maintained control of their sector long enough for the Albino to grow bored of waiting. Fortunately, the approaching soldiers wore the Sith-Imperial legionnaires' red plated armors, led by the telling black garb of the Sith Brotherhood. Excitement immediately flooded the young Knight's body, setting it ablaze with unchecked tension. His hand tore the lightsaber hilt from his side, brandishing it almost brazenly.

"And here I stood, thinking your ilk too cowardly to attempt a counteroffensive," Errant said to Vella, loud enough to be heard by the approaching Sith. His silver saber exploded from the shining hilt, a beacon, one that told his foe what he stood for. "Entertainment has found me at last!" he charged forward, his gray boots churning the earthen soil and verdant vegetation with each step. A pair of burning blades screeched to life ahead of him as the pair's smaller met his charge with a leaping strike.

Errant lifted his saber in a rising arc. It slammed into the crimson blade falling overhead, sending it and its wielder off balance. The Sith fell to the floor and quickly rolled aside, narrowly avoiding Errant's cleaving strike. It carved through the surrounding dirt with ease, even splitting the stone pathway as it chased the still moving Sith. Errant's enemy pushed off the ground, the force propelling him half a dozen paces away. The red saber rose up to ward away the Echani with a horizontal sweep before the dark sider thrust his free hand forward. Lightning exploded from his fingertips, clearing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Unable to dodge aside, Errant's silver blade met the arching lightning, catching it in time to turn it aside.

It crashed into an adjacent tree with a thunderous boom. The tree exploded as the destructive energy raced up the aged bark. Wood groaned in protest, eventually splintering off and exploding outward to pelt those nearby.

Errant paid the blackened tree no heed. His silver blade followed his commands as he plunged the weapon forward in a leaping thrust. Its burning tip pierced the Sith's chest, meeting no resistance as it incinerated his innards and crashed from the corrupted one's back. Without slowing, Errant tore upward, slicing what remained of the Sith-Imperial's chest and head in twain. His booted foot slammed into half of the cultist's head, shattering flesh and bone alike without a glance.

Unfortunately, a third Sith arrived on the scene without Errant's knowing. The assassin launched itself at the triumphant Imperial from across the courtyard, blade poised to strike him down.

 

[Ruek Tast]

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________​

Location: Wreckage in Ravelin
Opposition: NIO | IO-21
Allies: TSE | Mazrim Caide/Taim
Post #2

​

Wind whipped through the pale hair of her head. Free from her reliance on mechanical eyes she scanned the mangled cityscape with new vision. Smoke billowed from flattened street corners and crumbled buildings. Soldiers grouped then dispersed among the ruins like schools of frightened fish. From a steel beam perch she had watched a great many actions play out amidst the scarred backdrop.

A voice had broken through the broadcasting network, confident in the sewage it vomited into the ears of the faithful. During her watch she saw few legionnaires droop both head and heart to the foul lullaby. If they wished to fall to the lies she made certain their slumber was permanent. It was a mercy, and she prayed they'd be forgiven.

Her attention to the drama of patriots and heretics was taken, however, once a star crashed the stage. The craft broke through the clouded atmosphere in a broad descent, the ship sliding through the city-- no, the battlefield-- before finding rest. Due to its angle of entry it hadn't become a flaming coffin, so the idea of more soldiers infecting the city became quite the possibility. She stood and took one more breath of the ash-tinged air.

It wasn't too far to reach, an edge of the star destoyer's body having scraped close to her location. The climb into the mobile fortress was a thrill in itself, the jagged edges and impossible inclines reminding Ruek of Jelucan's mountain ranges. Here, too, she would find prey. Unlike home those bodies wouldn't be sold at market, but instead be given redemption through death.

Internal cabins were at war with their own life support systems, some frigid while others surged with heat. A few oases of mild temperature could be discovered through the maze, and it was through one of these that Ruek entered a maintenance corridor. Within the reactor chamber, the core, seeming void of life, loomed with a menacing presence. Ruek felt compelled to keep her rifle trained on it, to watch it, for thought it could manifest a will and seek her harm. She chased most of the apprehension away with focus on the previous self-ordained task. Above, a hole was sheared into the wall by debris.

Another soul lurks here…

She could feel them beyond. What they were she could not discern. It was time to find out.

Ruek hugged the wall, her sniper rifle tucked to her chest. She heard the rustling of fabric, a creak of armor. Were they leaning forward?

With a swift pivot of her foot she swung herself and the rifle around, its barrel meeting a visored face.

 

[Hugot Tyvek VII]

[Theme]
Allies: Gordon Hiram Voss Var Koon Olen Halcorr
Engaging: TE-236 Grand Moff Aut-X Onrai ​

Spoiler: Fleet Drips

FLEET:
82nd - Dauntless Company:
Star Destroyers:
1 Pellaeon IV-class Star Destroyer - NIV Dauntless (Flagship) [Link]

Support Craft:​

2 Squadrons: REC-LE01 AEG Enforcer Gunship [Link]​

13 Squadrons:TIE Starfighters (5 Outlander, 4 Interceptor, 3 (4 w/ Dervish) Slasher, 1 Drone)​

1 Hugot's personal TIE/HF Slasher and accompanying Slasher squadron, Dervish Squadron​

Cruisers:
1 The Valiant-Class Star Destroyer - NIV Joker (Standby - Ord Mantell) [Link]

Support Craft:​

1 Squadron: REC-LE01 AEG Enforcer Gunship​

2 Squadrons: TIE Starfighters (2 Drone)​

1 Stalwart-Class Carrier - NIV Hussar II [Link]

Support Craft:​

1 Squadron: REC-LE01 AEG Enforcer Gunship​

10 Squadrons TIE Starfighters (5 Outlander, 3 Bomber, 2 Vanguard)​

Corvettes:
2 Gurkha-Class Corvette - NIV Cormorant (Starboard side) & NIV Skua IV (Port side) & [Link]
1 TXS Vandal-class Corvette - NIV Landsknecht (Standby - Ord Mantell) [Link]

STAFF:
NIV Dauntless (Flagship)
Command: Captain Hugot Tyvek VII
Traits: (See above)
1st Mate: Commander Astro Buuchelli [Image]
Traits: Sephi/Devaronian hybrid, old cadet mate of Hugot, Nellogant native, ended up on the same side, has read every novel I swear, extremely organized, in charge of ordering everybody around, always has a stick up his ass, petty

NIV Hussar II (2nd Command)
Command: Lt. Commander Surilda Patullo [Image]
Traits: Mirialan, former Jedi, Bounty Hunter, Sith, according to her basically everything how much of it is true is up for debate but her skills aren’t, unbelievably calm, down to earth, tends to get tunnel vision, sometimes ruthlessly unsympathetic

NIV Joker (6th Command, 3rd if in league)
Command: Lt. Commander Eevla Lancori [Image]
Traits: Human/Cyborg, part time inquisitor part time Commander, thick accent, doesn’t know the word fun, skilled strategist, tends to crack under pressure, major trauma from a jettison incident

NIV Cormorant (4th Command)
Command: Lieutenant Aticus Zylander [Image]
Traits: Human, former poet with a passion for navigation and high power ship mounted weapons systems, speaks in proverbs and anecdotes, often hard to get a straight answer out of, tends to underplay serious issues

NIV Skua IV (5th Command)
Command: Lieutenant Jauqinna Tee [Image]
Traits: Kiffar, Former CIS naval officer, no alligence officer for hire, just follows where trouble is brewing, remarkably lucky, skilled at difficult maneuvers, notoriously reckless but does often get results, personally responsible and the only survivor of the Skua I, II & III

NIV Landsknecht (7th Command)
Command: Lieutenant Aeneid Alamo II [Image]

Spoiler: Hugot rn

//​

At this point, things couldn’t be going much worse, they were still getting the power back online from the previous damage and only the emergency boosters and comm channel and hall lights seemed to be working, nevertheless the situation seemed to be improving as he prepared to continued the report to Commodore Hiram Voss not before the lights in the bridge reactivated along with the familiar hum of the engine as an officer dashed to Hugot just as he began to open his lips,

“Captain! We are picking up a large electromagnetic signature from the starboard side of the vessel!”

Sweat dripped down Hugot’s brow as it clicked, “Ancient CIS tech… Plasma Rotors… It’s a Malevolence…!” Hugot frantically pressed buttons communicating with his company on all frequencies, “All ships evasive action, that ship has some sort of Ion Cannon!” He shouted, dashing to the viewport, hands pressed against watching his ships, the disk-shapped mechanism grew in hue to a deep field violet and lavender lightning before letting it drift away into space like a smoke ring from a pipe, outward and expanding enveloping many a vessel, it was colourblind, neutralizing even their own vessels and starfighters the move was disastrous for the New Imperial Order, but the reckless tactic had caused problems for the Sith Empire as well he swore. Hugot grew somehow sweatier as he watched his company attempt to dodge the energy field and to his horror watching the NIV Cormorant get caught in the blast as the ship itself went limp, to an admiral or the like one lowly frigate may not of seemed like much but to Hugot it was disastrous, he peeled his hand of the glass, and returned to the holotable, and took a long sigh before buttering to Commander Buuchelli, “Status.”

“We lost the Cormorant and about three dozen fighters to the blast.” Hugot let his fist down on the table causing a loud bang that rang throughout the cabin, “Put me on to the rest of the company.” “Sir, are we still going through with the plan?” Buuchelli interjected, Hugot continued, “Put me through Commander, that is an order,” he snapped in a calm yet threatening tone, Buuchelli relented.

“Company, we did just face pretty devastating loss and… we are still unable to reach the Cormorant but, in this tragedy we have opportunity, Ion Cannons or the like are threatening weapons, highly capable of neutralizing and hunting down entire fleets, but in a close quarters such as this that was an incredibly risky maneuver, they made a path for you Skua IV, Landsknecht, all starfighters engage their flagship through the hole in their defences they made. Joker, give battery support to their run and position your ship as a wall to protect the Cormorant, the Hussar II will be sending dropships to rescue the crew on the stranded ship, my power is back online so I will also be moving into position with the Joker to protect the Cormorant and supporting you with fire, the rest is up to you, that is all, dismissed.” All commanding officers saluted as the transmission ended, Hugot returned to rubbing his chin, “Helmsman, take us forward, just behind the Joker.”

//​

“What did the captain mean when he said “the rest is up to you”?” Lieutenant Jauqinna Tee inquired to the forward attack council.

“I’m going to assume it means he trusts us to know what targets to pick.” Lieutenant Aeneid Alamo II noted in his traditional stern demeanour.

“I don’t know about you but I’m taking out their Ion weapon.” Tee responded putting a fist to an open palm.

“We should take out a target together Lieutenant Tee,” Alamo snapped, loathing her recklessness.

“Vill you two stop bickering?” Lieutenant Commander Eevla Lancori scolded, “Lieutenant Tee has the right idea of targeting the Plasma Rotor because in case you haven’t noticed one of our allies just struck their vessels up the flagships arse,” the two captains scramble to the glass to see spotting the NIV Endeavor itself with its bow ramming near the stern of the Sith Flagship, then turning back to face the hologram tail between their legs, Lt. Commander Lancori continued, “that level of damage would definitely let’s say, strained their shields, hit the target with precision, unlike these Sith dogs I don’t want to friendly fire one of our own vessels.”

“Rodger,” “On it” the two Lieutenants answered eagerly.

The two frigates got in close to the Malevolence, both commanding officers all too accustomed to their vessels lower maneuverability attempted to make the most of it, regardless dotting rapidly and along the massive flagship, darting around the vessel like flies around a large pastoral mammal continuing getting support from the Joker and their accompanying starfighters targeting their guns on all vulture droids swarming the ship as well. Racing under the lumbering corpse of the Endeavor as it remained lodged in the ship the two Frigates locked on all torpedoes, not before receiving an urgent distress call from a nearby vessel, the remainder of Commodore Voss’s fleet was being pummelled.

“Lieutenant Tee, we need to help them!”

“But we’re so close! We can make it!”

“I’m sure we could but I’m not optimistic our allies will see us make the victory lap Jauqinna.” These words made Tee clenched her oh so impulsive fist, yet she was taken aback, rarely hearing him say her name so informally.

“Fine, but if I get blown up running down three bloody Battlecruisers it’s your head.” She responded reluctantly.

“Lieutenants! Why are you changing course?!” a gutteral scream came coming from a now present hologram of the snapping Lt. Commander Lancori.

Lieutenant Alamo came forward, “We’re aiding the rest of Commodore Voss’ fleet Lieutenant Commander.”

Lancori sighed, “Fine, but be careful, I might be able to aid you soon, I got a sole transmission from the Cormorant, saying they're nearly back online.”

“Thank you Lancori.” Lee squeaked, followed by a salute of acknowledgment from Lancori.

Approaching the other ensuing battle the two frigates realized their presence was going rather unnoticed, both ships racing towards the bow-side underbelly of two of the battlecruisers Onrai .

“They appear to have some sort of high power beam at these cruisers bows, this I believe is what’s causing his fleet trouble, we need to take them out, you get one I get one.”

“Who put you in charge?” Tee responded playfully, Alamo rolled his eyes.

“I like this plan, high risk, high reward, feels like you’re jacking my style,” she snarked, as the two frigates burrowed through space even closer to their respective targets, at near point blank range, the closest they could be without damaging their own ships in the explosion, in unison, they shouted

“Fire!”​

As the two vessels launched as many missiles as they could into the underbelly of two of the three beasts, causing green and red sparks and clouds to release from the impact point, topside it would appear as if the bow nearly blew off as an explosion rose, the weapons had taken massive damage not destroyed outright, the ships heavy armour made sure of that, but neutralized for the projectively the rest of the engagement? Yes.

“Woo! Two down, one to go.” Lee cheered

“This is where things get messy, now they know we’re here and we can expect nothing but trouble you need to race to our final target. I have a little plan of mine.”

“A… Alright.” Lee responded, her joy turning to a rather concerned tone.

“Hug the ships, if you get caught out you’re done for.” Alamo ordered as the Skua bolted to the final forward Battlecruiser and the Landsknecht kept close, hugging the vessel it had targeted continuing to fire at it.

​

​

Other Space Combatants: Zori Kapshan Jin Kyrel Thaelius Ordo Del Lovruc

 

[Ra Vizsla]

// IMPERIAL / CAPITAL / C O M P L E X
// GARRISON //: Mando'ade Supercommandos | 403rd Stormtrooper Battalion

// ALLIES | NIO | SONS OF MANDALORE | Meshla Detta | Hunter Blackburn
// ENEMIES | TSE | Ingrid L'lerim | Darth Ophidia | Bel'sa'Nikto

Did I request thee, Maker
To mold me a man
From your clay?
Did I solicit thee
To bring thine light from the darkness?







"AGH"

Ra recoiled, falling against a few Stormtroopers as his blood fell to the ground, the assailant's riposte on his arm striking true. Instinctively, his arm folded in to his torso. A stormtrooper stepped forward, pointing his blaster at the Sith'ari in an effort to hold her at bay while the Mando'ade was standing back up. Wildly, a strike from the Undying fell upon the trooper's blaster, knocking it up towards the ceiling as he fired his first bolt.

"NO INTERFERENCES," Ra roared, clearly enraged.

The large crimson brute charged his opponent, a darksaber swinging with fury in the direction of his Sithly opponent, threatening to split her in half. She had already seemed... immune to the Ysalamir, which was a new evolution in tactics - so if she were to delve into the Mando'ades mind, she would see what was always there, what had always been present, what every Force User had pried thus far out of this iteration of Ra.

Perhaps the only thing more similar than the style of his armor - the thought process was the same.

Uncontrollable anger.

Fury undying.

A maelstrom of flames.

Unbridled vengeance cloaked in absolute endless rage.

There was no Force Power, no idealism, no amount of sheer strength that could waver this about Ra. It was his defining trait. It was who he was, who he had always been. Perhaps misplaced, perhaps uncontrollable, a wild torrent of untamed emotional excess that threatened to overwhelm. A singular focus on the death of his opponent, for more than just survival. The fall of Mandalore. The death of his leader. The history and struggle of his people over the last year until now. It was overwhelming.

The spear struck out soon after, threatening to impale the Sith's left thigh.

​

 

[DK-03]

Location: Near Fortress Carnifex
Objective: Possibly die to Ra's ?


DK-03 closed his eyes.

It was over.

The fight was finished.

The better man had won.

DK-03 closed his eyes.

The last image he had was of the Khaleesh standing over him, sword cocked back, ready to pop and lock it.

The Khaleesh swung his sword, aiming to behead the juggernaut Darktrooper.

DK-03 actually closed his eyes this time.


THUNK

Was this the afterlife?

Was this what heaven felt like?

A strong tugging at his neck? An awkward struggle in battle to unwedge a wedged sword in his neck?

Wait, no, he was still alive - and the sword was now lodged inbetween his helmet and his shoulder pauldrons at precisely the right angle, as if the opening had been just wide enough to halt the blade. DK-03's eyes slowly drifted to the sword, then to the Khaleesh, then back to the sword, then back to the Khaleesh. He then kicked off the ground, backflipping in the air and landing among some rubble in a bombastic explosion before erupting from the smoke with several miniguns and several confused looking Stormtroopers who were now looking for their weapons.

This wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

The Darktrooper fired at the Khaleesh with everything he had while running full sprint.

Ra's​

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Valeria Ragal (Ingrid L’lerim)
The Red Witch; sorcerer, master spy, agent, assassin, sniper, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Thaumaturgic Tower in Fortress Carnifex, Bastion
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Tactical Turtleneck with this look | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | Stealth field generator | Holographic disguise matrix | G1 OmniLink | Actual look under the armour: link |
Allies: AMCO | Aren D'Shade
Enemies: Caulder Dune | FN-999

Background music:
Elena Siegman – Abracadavre​

Managed to throw away her opponent, and as she started afterwards she even sent a message to Adrian, who just answered. Rolled her eyes for a moment that this message had arrived so late. But at least from that, the woman already knew that her lover was really well and there was nothing wrong. All she had to do was make sure it stayed that way. But still pricked and pinched, she responded with some played anger. Because she also sent feelings, as has been the case with Adrian lately, the man may have felt not really angry.

~ You would have said before I slaughtered half of their strike team in 5 seconds! I have been named the most dangerous opponent here and they are sending reinforcements with extra firepower! ~

By the time Ingrid arrived in the hall after the man, she saw a huge shot not going in her direction, but killing one of Adrian's sithspawn with a single shot. Because she knew these creatures very well for now, she already knew what they were capable of. She stopped for a moment at what she saw. Because of her great fighting experience, she couldn’t be very surprised, but she did. Even Adrian could feel her surprise.

~ They are one shot one of your “Angels”! With the weapon they brought against me…~ sent the telepathic message with incredible confusion in her „voice” to Adrian.

She basically knew the man was telepathically connected to them and she knew it too, but at that moment she didn’t have time to think about it. After a momentary halt, he swung forward as her opponent, FN, took the gun and aimed at her. There wasn’t too much distance between them, so she hoped she would get there to her opponent. The man raised the gun and fired. The next moment, Ingrid saw a blurred shadow as one of Karza’arana ran right in front of her with the Force speed to protect her with its own body. Fortunately she was able to stand so as not to rush to the Darksworn.

The shot hit the sithspawn the next moment and, just like the previous one, pierced its arm almost completely. However, something else happened here. The projectile ruptured the Darksworn flamethrower, causing an explosion and sending shrapnel flying. And the explosion was huge, the shockwave threw even Ingrid back meters, hitting several of the shrapnel pieces, one getting deeper into her belly, causing unpleasant and severe pain that Adrian could feel through the telepathic connection.

The explosion affected the entire room because it was quite large and strong. Darksworn's arm and part of its upper body were missing, but it was still on its feet. Everything hurt for Ingrid at the moment, her ears ringing. She also picked up quite a few bruises in addition to the cuts caused by the shrapnel and the "blow" caused by the explosion. The red-hair woman tried to get up from the ground with the lightsabers in the now very damaged hall.

~ I'm fine, it's just a scratch ~ she lied.

The explosion was probably so large that Adrian and who was with him in the control room could hear it as well…

​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: I Will Now Bow //:
//: Take the path that leads to no where //:
//: Imperial Capital Complex //:
//: Loske Treicolt //:​

The real issue here is not that people think so little of you,
but that you think so little of them.
You are selfish
Please don't give me any reason to give up on you, and I won't.
​

Sighing, Allyson watched as the Jedi Knight removed herself from the shell of the armor. Loske was smarter and knew when it was time to abandon something that wasn't working. Tilting her head, she wondered why she held on still even with everything Allyson had done to make sure she looked like the bad guy. Ryv's hand and Borosk was a mistake; her calculations were hindered by her own mental state shattering. If only she had started to tear away from the connections that gave the voices strength sooner. This could have been finished so long ago. ​

Allyson pondered the questions and remembered the words that were spoken to her. Her conversation with Jyoti lingered in her mind as she exhaled and nodded. She was selfish and hid behind the desire to protect; she used it as a suit of armor to protect herself from the truth. In reality, she wanted to protect only because she didn't think those around her could do what she did. They weren't like her. They had not seen the darkness she had seen. There was one person she always let in, and that was Jyoti. The woman was the one that guided her hand as a handler and a confidant. Loske was there as well, but when she looked at the blonde, all she saw was her dear friend, someone Kaili cared for and someone who had much more to live for. ​

The explosions and the shouting echoed around them. Allyson shut them out as she focused on the woman in front of her. Seven times they have come face to face, seven times Allyson pushed Loske away, seven heartless times - Allyson walked away from her, and it hurt every time. She loved her. To Allyson, she knew the truth of her loyalties. To everyone else, she was a question and a danger. Even so, Loske continued - seven times. ​

Footsteps moved, the saber in her hand, itched to be ignited. This battle was inevitable, and Allyson welcomed it. Allyson hoped she would have succeeded in her plan before this had happened; she had planned on perishing at the hand of the Emperor but would drag him with her to Chaos. Sacrificing her soul to the nothingness giving the Jedi a chance because, for some reason, the Dark Lord eluded even their best. Allyson had faced the demon three times, and each time she had walked away. Tortured and left for dead, she survived, facing her fear, she fought him, and on Muunilist she beat him back. Her only regret was not ending him at the start of this war. ​

What are you when this is done? What does finished look like?​

Allyson didn't have an answer; in her mind, she would either be killed by sustained wounds from the fight or made to be an example by the SIA and the governments she fought to protect. There was no hero's welcome for the Corellian; she had accepted that before this mission was given to her. Like before, she donned the honorable first-class blood stripes, the red band moved with each step, a reminder that she had been a hero once. Die a hero or live long enough to be the villain, words that spoke too real for the woman as she rolled her shoulders. The anti-sith propaganda started to invade her mind as she shook her head. A hand reached towards the panel that she had initially hacked into and twisted its components. The box sparked, and the internal guts stuttered to a stop. ​

She continued after the attack and shook her head. "I told you that I'm not your enemy, but you can't follow where I'm going. You're not willing to sacrifice everything that there is. Maybe I'm selfish." Hearing the words come from her mouth, Jyoti's voice itched at the back of her head. Why did Allyson continue to try and do everything on her own? Allyson cleared her throat, "I honestly can't tell you where I'll be after I finish what I need to finish." ​

Standing close, Allyson knew that the only way to force the bond to break was for one of them to die or be near death. She couldn't bring herself to take Loske to that point, but herself - that was easy. "Loske, you can't keep doing this. Where I'm going - no one can follow. I have things to protect, and the more involved you get, the scarier things will be. The more you're going to find yourself unable to trust the person next to you." ​

Despite her trust in Loske and in Jyoti, she had to say it was the only way to try and make Loske not want to keep following her. "The moment you enter this world, enter my world. Your world is over. Stop chasing me. You're putting Maynard in trouble." She smiled, knowing that it was a trigger she shouldn't have touched. Loske needed to understand the weight of all of this. "If something happened to him, would you be able to live with yourself? If something happens its all your fault. That's why I do what I do, why I cut all of you off. I won't have your blood on my hands." Her smile faded as she finished, the weight of what her life had become settled in. There won't be an eighth time for them to meet. Exhaling, the Corellian brought her hands together, a fist into a palm. "This will be our last meeting, Loske." As she spoke, the Shadow Master disappeared from existence. Being the infiltrator she was, Force Cloak was a skill she had easily mastered. Through the Force she moved, invisible to the naked eye, she stood near Loske. She had maneuvered herself close enough to be able to strike the woman with her fists. The bottom of the long hilt of her saber moved to hit her in the stomach. ​

Before the strike, Allyson reappeared, dropping the cloak to stare into her former ally's eyes. "It's better if you think of me as the enemy; it makes it easier." As she spoke, her body infused with the Force struck with all her might, there was no hesitation. Allyson knew precisely who she was and what she needed to do. ​

"I'm sorry, my friend."​

 

[Grigory Tallis]

Allies: Salvor Thul
Objective: Hold the Line.​

"She's reckless." Grigory coldly snapped back to Salvor with a callous sneer, "War, war like this isn't some game of glory you play as children would. No matter how many speeches we tell our men that." Major Tallis glowered with a callow glare toward the other Thul. Grigory allowed a moment to pass, and then sighed, before bowing his head. It was unsightly to insult a man like Thul, "I apologise." Girgory mused with a small roll of his head, "That was... unseemly." Grigory added licking his cracked lips. He averted his gaze from Salvor with some reverence.

"I just," He paused, searching for the most delicate way to elaborate. "I figured we'd have the chance to make a name for ourselves today." Grigory mused quietly, ironic, given his early sentiments. "Going toe to toe with the stormtroopers, feeling that primal rush." He then scowled and put his binoculars down, "But that's an aside," Grigory paused, and then stared at the trooper, assessing him. "The mission at hand, is what is important." Grigory paused, and stood tall stretching his muscles before reverting to his erect posture, "The data tapes, did you have any issue in recovery?"

 

[Ra's]

Fighting with DK-03

Once again the Trooper prove himself to be quite the opponent, each time the Kaleesh thought he was on the point to close this duel each time the Elite warrior from the NIO was up stronger and ready to kill win, such powerful will, such determination, but most of all such strenght never yet in his life the Kaleesh fought an opponent as difficult as this one not even the sneaky fucker Tulan Kor was that much of a problem for him during their short but intense fight in a previous battle. As the Kaleesh barely made it alive by jumping in a serie of flips to take cover while various bullets strike his armor without properly piercing it the Sith Knight land on the floor, wounded and tired but most of all disarmed. Both of his weapon were missing because both are literally locked on DK body/armor. The Kaleesh grab two large boulders one in each hand, as he rush forward to his opponent blocking the new bullets with the rocks, once he is close enough he try to smash the head of the Dark Trooper with those and then land a serie of front kicks left, right,left, right, right ,right, left all aiming to his own weapon (the Electro-bisento) in a way to push it trought DK-03 chest and try to bring him a little closer to death or at least defeat.