Death To The False Emperor (Coup of the Dark Lord, Open to all One Sith)

[Tyberius Fel]

Coruscant. The Imperial Center. ​

Like the capillaries of some great bio luminescence insect the blaze of sparkling lights and glimmering colors that was the famed Ecumenopolis spider webbed across the industralized planetry surface. It was a single glowing orb of a dust mote suspending within the light of space. It was a shining beacon of civilization in the long darkness of a galaxy consumed by warfare and despair. It was the shining jewel at the crest of the crown of the galaxy. It was a solitary candle shimmering upon a background of celestial midnight.

And that candle was burning.

Aelius's chilling gray gaze stared from the transparisteel viewport to the surface of Coruscant, consumed by flaming infernos erupting like hellish mushrooms. A cowl of swarming purple shards sped from cruisers, dotting the artillery battered ground and birthing vast hordes of snarling, blood thirsty mutants. This was not the sleek, efficient, white clad armies of Palpatine. This was a vile horde of foaming abominations, opportunistic mercenaries and Sith Lords who's maniac psychopathy could only possibly be matched by their unreliability. The Imperial Sovereign Protector knew these fiends would cut nothing less but a bloody swath of death, looting and rape across the galaxy's most densely populated planet.

A means to a end.

Aelius pivoted sharply on his heels, rallied the loyal soldiers of the 501st Legion and stood like a dauntless statue as they all listened to the rumbling broadcast of his new Emperor's speech. He soon returned to the side of Mephirium who conversed with his apprentice and two of his officers as his shuttle was prepared. With a sharp rap of his force pike against the cold, hard durasteel floor of the Warship, Aelius reported dutifully to his sovereign:

"My Lord, all preparations for the next phrase of Operation Regicide are completed. With your word, the Galaxy will have it's new Emperor."



[member="Darth Mephirium"] & friends.

 

[Aklanor]

Location: Dark Temple Library.
Aklanor was in the library, reading old sith tomes when the broadcast from [member="Darth Mephirium"] came in. Finally somone to get rid of this pitiful dark lord, maybe this new challenger would be worthy of the title, even though he was a pitiful mortal, mabye he would understand the true nature of the dark side, and even if he didn't it could not get worse than the current dark lord. Aklanor slammed closed the ancient sith tome, dust flew up all around her, probably not the quietest thing to do, but she was never about subtlety. Aklanor in her short time of being alive had learned most of the acolyte powers, her mind was a sponge, taking in knowledge at any opportunity.

Aklanor walked outside of the library, she would assist this mephirium in his little coup, she knew that much.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Location: The Ruination

Days, weeks, months. Satyijau'ira had little knowledge of just how long she had spent with [member="Darth Vornskr"]. The Ruination was a strange warship to her. Its' interior design confused her at times, and she often found herself lost on various levels asking crew for directions to here or there. For the most part she was free to move about the ship, with little in the way of off limits, though she was neither crew nor officer. The bindings on arm and leg were still very much present, and her place as Kaine's pet was hardly different than it had been on Coruscant before. The Twi'lek had been told little about why they were undertaking this journey aboard this particular Star Destroyer, and even less about what to expect. It was not her place to ask, and the Sith Lord would reveal only as much as he desired to her. When they first boarded she was simply told that she was needed, and that she would bear witness to the making of history.

The woman made her way to the bridge. She spoke not a word upon entering, and the crew took little notice of her. Kaine stood speaking with what she identified as his apprentice, [member="Braxus Zambrano"], and a short distance away looked to be some kind of hired mercenary, [member="Vilaz Munin"]. For a moment her eyes cast out into the void of space, identifying a number of vessels in her master's modest fleet. A pleasant smile dotted her face, knowing that if things got a bit rough, at least they weren't alone in whatever it was that would be unfolding. For months Kaine had spoken of change, of a new kind of glory rising from the ashes of the stagnant Sith Order. He had ingrained in her memory a number of speeches, lessons, and words of wisdom that she carried within her perfect mind bank.

Slowly Sera approached both Kaine and Braxus, a small nod and warm smile to the Acolyte, and a bow of her head to the Lord. "Master." She said quietly. A single, respectful greeting was offered so not to interrupt his train of thought. Her hands were clasped behind her back, head kept low until the man acknowledged her. He had rescued her from the Jedi, the savages that had tortured her mercilessly, and for that she felt indebted to him. Whatever was needed of her she would execute without hesitance. Whatever was asked of her she would see to.

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Ferus, this is Kentarch. The time has come. Dark Temple splashdown."

The all too familiar voice of [member="Darth Kentarch"] chirped in the ear of the Sith Lord sitting in the bar. For a moment his smile flickered. How could he enjoy the chaos if he couldn't see it? Then, of course, he remembered. He'd see it first hand, for his own hand would cause it. A chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to sip his tea, his mind abuzz with new choices and new opportunities. How many would take this moment to seize power for themselves? How many would remain loyal?

As his minds raced he finished his tea, only to find the other patrons gone. So the panic had sent them to the hills? Good, this next part will be much easier. When a war breaks out on the surface of Coruscant, one can bet patrols will be everywhere. Patrols that would get in the way of what Ferus needed to do. So he picked the farthest point from this civil war that he could still get to the battle by speeder in a reasonable time. The reason?

Three armed storm troopers stepped into the bar, guns raised. Their armor, shine white. This far from war, the less.. Experienced troops would be deployed to keep the peace. "You there! A planet wide curfew is in effect, and you're in violation. Present your identification holo, or be shot." The presumed leader of the trio spoke up, his gun leveled. Even as a shiny he was at least well trained. A slow turn in his seat (He made sure to pick one of those spiny chairs for this exact situation) and Ferus faced them, both hands up.

"Sorry, I left them at home."

"Then you're gonna have to come with u-" A torrent of lighting from the hands of the Sith silenced any further conversation. Blaster fire rang out in response, but it was wild, uncontrolled as the electricity burned through their bodies. In a matter of moments, the three laid dead on the ground, smoking. Phase One, complete. Phase Two was next. Getting up from his seat the ex shadow walked right over to not the leader, but the one to his left, and bent down to pick up the body. He was going to need that armor. But the troopers were better trained than the Sith Lord had given them credit for. The leader, ST-2394 as his shoulder read, wasn't actually dead. He tackled the Sith Lord to the ground and unleashed a brutal set of punches to the surprised man's face. Thud after thud sounded off once, twice, thrice until a crack could be heard, followed by another torrent of lightning.

ST-2394 had broken the nose of the Sith, as well as bloodied and bruised his face. If not for the fact Ferus was able to regain enough control to unleash the blot of lightning he did, this would of ended a lot worse. He rolled to his side, coughing up some of his own blood in the process, and stumbled his way to his feet. Before him laid the rather surprising trooper, still alive. And making a call.

"Sith at.. My location. Team's de-" The call was finished with his screeching of pain as lightning coursed through his body. Once he was dead, and this time the Sith made sure, Ferus went about step two much faster than he would have liked. He ripped off the armor of the dead soldier as fast as he could to put on himself, then disposed of the body down the nearby garbage chute. A quick shock of lightning welded part of the mask to his neck armor, so the other troopers couldn't take it off immediately. He could, when the time became needed.

Though these things were pretty stuffy.

Without a moment to spare he flung himself to the ground, letting out an audible groan as he did so. He had forgotten to open the back door! A quick wave of his hand cause it to open wide, just as the reinforcements were called in. Five more troopers, all shinies, burst right in. "You two, check the bodies. Sixes and Sevens, out back." Well, now Ferus knows who the leader is. That would make it a bit easier when the time came. He was the last to be checked, with the other two coming up dead as expected, and when they reached the Sith one of them, a female, spoke up.

"We got a live one sir. He seems to be conscious."

"Good, call in the med evac and get him home. We're going to need all the info we can get."

"He ran out.. The back.." Ferus whispered hoarsely. Just enough for the female to pick up. Before she could say anything though, the gruff voice of Sixes sounded off from the back. "Doors open out back, looks forced. Who ever it was was good with the Force, probably a traitor Sith too far from the action." Correct. All according to plan, until the voice of Sevens pipped in. "I got blood on the garbage chute. Who ever it is could have used the door as a distraction while he got out underneath. Sir, he's getting away."

"Friggen Sith, making this so hard. Sixes and Sevens, follow outside. Eights, come with me. We're checking out the basement."

"What of me sir?"

"Keep him alive, and wait for the medical team. Shoot anyone not wearing white armor that steps through that door. You lot got your orders, move!" A thunder of footsteps, and most of the team was gone. The female, who was nameless at this point, tried to remove the helmet hiding Ferus. At least he had thought that through. If he was going to leave, he was going to have to be quick.

"Things jammed on. That would explain the scotch marks. Lightning huh? I think I got just the thing t-" Without delay the Sith sat right up, grasping her by her head. Lightning poured free, probably more than was necessary, frying her mind mid sentence. She dropped to the ground dead, and before the rest of her team even got back, Ferus was gone. Two blocks away, around the time both mini squads would have realized something was wrong, be it the lack of a trail outside or the dead body in the basement, the Sith had gotten on his illegally obtained yet perfectly legal One Sith military speeder, and sped off not for the Valley of the Dark Lord, but a coms station. There was something there he needed to do first.

[member="Darth Mephirium"] @Others

 

[Subject 37]

The Dark Lords Palace - Front Steps
[member="Grozkalla"] | [member="Thrukk Gulpdar"] | [member="Laguz Vald"]

The contingent of Saeva Incorporated that had dropped into the Palace grounds was quickly forming together, nearly a thousand men having made it into the central plaza, with several more thousand spread out all around Coruscant. In the skies above the droid could still sense a dozen or so dropships incoming, moving to collect wayward drop pods so that they could ferry soldiers to correct objectives. For Rigor, these men no longer mattered.

His own contingent had been selected to take The Palace, and so that would be what the droid did.

[Advance] The communicator buzzed with the robotic drone. [Secure the palace steps]

The thousand or so Saeva Incorporated Soliders began to gather and press forward, their armor protecting them from a hail of blaster fire from automated turrets and Sith troopers. Their own weapons came blazing to life, firing with exacting precision and taking out anything that stood in their path. The mercenaries cut a bloody mess through the courtyard, slaughtering everyone in their way and not halting for even their own fallen. They moved with exacting precision, coordinated by Rigor to move from hiding place to hiding place, taking every advantage and suffering hardly any losses.

It was brutal, quick, and effective.

Slowly, step by step, Saeva Incorporated took over the Courtyard until eventually Rigor reached the first of the Palace's monumental stairs.

The droid stood upon it, surveying the carnage within the courtyard. Blaster fire still rained down and soared about, cutting through a thick rolling smoke born of flames from broken turrets and other automatons. The droid shifted slightly, pulling it's own Needle Disruptor up to it's chest. The droid issued it's next command protocol, having already achieved the first by securing the main entrance to the palace. [Secure the Palace grounds]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl8_b4qi3Ss​

​

At first Darth Vornskr didn't even acknowledge his apprentice, [member="Braxus Zambrano"], as he appeared behind him save for the quick motion to rise. His hard eyes were firmly set on the distant battle happening below, his hyper-enhanced senses able to vaguely make out the flow of the battle despite being separated from it by a vast distance of space. Things were going rather well for the insurgents, the capital was in a panic as mercenaries and the 501st quickly descended upon their unsuspecting fortresses and garrisons with rapid efficiency that gave credit to the caliber of men that [member="Darth Mephirium"] had seduced into his service by honeyed words, credits, or a combination of the two. Vornskr did not solely rely on such brigands to achieve his goals, but it did help to hire some professionals in chaotic situations like this. He had already given the word to [member="Darth Vulkan"] to gather his respective forces, but told him to remain well beyond scanner range to await further instruction.

And where was the rest of War Fleet Black Iron? Vornskr had not yet summoned the rest of his fleet, only a handful now milled about the Ruination with weapon systems primed and ready to go for any eventuality. In his employ he also had the capable [member="Vilaz Munin"], who had become something of a common sight in recent years as the Sith Lord had come to enjoy Vilaz's methods in hunting down those he deemed worthy of being hunted, and had not yet displeased the Epicanthix in any way. Then there was his pet, birth name [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"] but now known as Satyijau'ira since her memory wipe, who still wore the restricting devices that he had secured her with ever since she had been captured by him many months ago. Ever since then he had filled her memory-bereft mind with nothing but pro-Sith and pro-Imperial propaganda to mold her into a capable soldier not only for him, but for the greater Empire.

"Peace is lie, Braxus, there is only Passion. I came not to bring peace, but a sword. A sword with which I shall scour these traitors from the land, with which I shall cast down the Dark Lord who had long since forgotten what it means to be Sith, with which I shall usher in a new epoch of order to this fractured galaxy. Let this upstart throw himself at the capital's defenses, for with the bones of his followers shall the road to my ascension be paved." Inspiring words to his own supporters, all of whom turned to listen when their Lord spoke in such a fervent and rapturous tone. By now the Major had returned, and quickly informed Vornskr that his shuttle was primed and ready. The Sith Lord dismissed him with a wave, and for the first time since he had been joined by Braxus, Vilaz, and Satyijau'ira he turned to face them in earnest. "Come, my friends, embark with me on the road to transcendence."

He then departed from the bridge with a powerful purposeful stride, easily outpacing his compatriots with his towering figure and long legs. By the time they reached the hanger an assembly of robed servants was already congregating around the shuttle's entrance, and at their sight the Sith Lord immediately began to disrobe as he walked. He shed the comfortable confines of his cloak and tunic, casting them aside until he was bare as the day he had arisen from the blood pool on Lujo, and quickly slipped into a skin-tight bodysuit that was standard in all Blackblade combat armor. The bodysuit incorporated a MR-liquid based armor layer between two titanium-dipped fiber meshes that hardens upon kinetic impact, spreading out damage over a wide surface to protect the wearer’s body within. Over this interlocking plates of pure phrik were quickly assembled by the servants, each one moving soundlessly and without effort as they armed their Lord. The pelt of a Kral'ın Montaj was draped over his shoulders with the taxidermied skull fitting perfectly over the armored plating of his right shoulder.

Once Vornskr was fully armored they knelt before him and held up three plush cushions upon which his two lightsabers ( x x ) and his Sith runeblade, Derriphan, rested. He clipped both weapons to his waist, and sheathed the Sith runeblade into a scabbard that hid beneath the pelt cloak he wore. Once the ritual was complete the Sith Lord stepped into the spacious confines of the shuttle's hold, and once all three of his colleagues had joined him it would take off from the hanger and begin a calculated approach on Coruscant.

 

[Placeholder 04]

OOC​

(I will do my best to interact with everyone in the thread in one way or another. This post dictates the general actions of Mephirium's armies'.)

Personal Actions Taken: Mephirium moved from the fleet to the landing zone created by Saeva.

NPC Actions Taken: The 501st and the Graug fought tooth and nail to secure a mall near the Dark Lord's palace. The majority of the Graug force was slaughtered. It serves as an FOB for Mephirium-aligned forces in the region.

Mutants split in two groups. Majority is heading to assist with the palace assault. Six thousand are making their way toward the Dark Temple. They are crazed berserkers that serve only to kill. They have no strategy. They are trying to breach the temple by throwing bodies at it. They are roughly allies of Kentarch's forces.

501st/Graug coalition landed with heavy casualties at the landing zone created by Saeva. 501st soldiers hatily erected a temporary field hospital for their wounded.

Arcis' former fleet engaged with loyalist forces. One of the Star Destroyers was destroyed as soon as the fighting began. Remaining vessels are holding their own with the assistance of allied ships from Ession. The skies over Coruscant are a mess. I am not a fleeter, please forgive me if I wrote any of their actions inaccurately

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Us2ylGAwBnk​

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​

IC​

Mephirium had not expected such a quick retaliation. Within moments, one of the six Star Destroyers (each of which were of the archaic design, repurposed by Arcis' engineers) went up in flames. It had not had time to raise its shields before the loyalist vessels had managed to hit something particularly vital. The massive ship was ripped apart by Coruscant's gravity as its engines began to fail. Two halves of the flame-bathed metal carcass fell toward the world below.

Not a soul on that vessel had survived.

And so the battle began.

The usurper turned his nose up in distaste as his fleet engaged that of the loyalists. Ties and repurposed Galactic Alliance X-wings battled for supremacy just beyond the planet's atmosphere. His Star Destroyers showered the loyalist vessels in turbolaser fire, and the loyalists gave as good as they got.

The three destroyers he had gained control of before the battle fell out of hyperspace alongside the vessels of his allies. They quickly moved to try and provide the Star Destroyers with a defense against the loyalist bombers heading their way.

At the same time, transports carrying hordes of Graug warriors and loyal Imperial soldiers descended toward particular locations across Coruscant. Many met their ends as starfighters tore through their shuttles' shields and gutted their troop-bays with cannon fire. Others found themselves trapped in metal cages as their engines were destroyed by crackpot pilots. They would fall toward Coruscant, and if they did not burn up in atmosphere, would come to realize their transports were steel graves for the few moments they had to live. Eventually they would finally hit the ground, and gravity would do its job.

All this death was a deep pang within the force. It swirled around Mephirium, strengthened his resolve. Each loyalist life lost was another dissenter that would not oppose his rule; every one of his men that met their end would be remembered for all time.

His was an empire that would stand for a thousand years.

The [member="First Daughter"] drew him from his reverie.

"If they are wise, they will side with us. Those who do not will meet their end, but remember that we will have mercy for those who surrender. Their loyalty to their Dark Lord is commendable, if misguided."

He looked over his shoulder at the sound of an all-too-familiar voice.

"Excellent Colonel. Tell the pilots they have the green light." He gave the woman an approving smile meant only for her. It remained for but a moment before his countenance shifted to a look of determination.

His attentions fell upon the Captain of the Royal Guard.

"Send the word, Captain Varangian, Operation Regicide is in full swing. The Graug Hordes have already been released, and the Saeva Corporation has cleared us a landing zone." He grinned. "Our right to rule is divine Captain, we will not fail this day."

Then, with his shoulders back and his head held high, Mephirium turned from the bridge and spoke to the officers. "Maintain the blockade until told otherwise. Destroy any deserting vessels."

Moff Joffie bowed his balding head. "By your word, m'lord!"

Mephirium felt a pang of pride in his heart. Joffie had served his father well. It was only right that the old man be present for the son's triumph. With a silent nod of approval, Mephirium strode toward the hangers below. There his shuttle awaited, and beyond that, the target of his ire.

The Dark Lord would meet his end today.

His private shuttle was flanked by an escort of Tie fighters, and those who would accompany him onto the field of battle were permitted as passengers. The Colonel, his Captain, and the Daughter would all join him in the assault on the palace. They, along with over a thousand of the 501st's greatest descended toward the landing zone that Saeva had forcibly erected just moments prior.

Mephirium received confirmation of the mutants' arrival just as the ship broke through the planet's atmosphere. He tuned his comm to frequency he had given [member="Grudge The Grutt"].

"I knew you wouldn't fail me Grudge. When the battle is over, I will arrange for transport so that you may join us in our victory. You've done your part." The message was a short one and would only go one way. Mephirium couldn't hold a conversation right now.

The 501st and their Graug allies had struck hard and fast. The security officers around one of the nearby malls were quickly overwhelmed, torn asunder by the sheer physical strength of the Graug warriors. The clans had all agreed to support Mephirium in his ascension. Their warriors were landing at the mall in droves.

Unfortunately for Mephirium's allies, Coruscant was arguably the most defended planet in the galaxy. Over one hundred thousand Graug warriors had pledged themselves to his battle. Of those warriors, barely a quarter remained. They had fallen upon the defenses of the Dark Lord's loyalists, buying the mall with their lives. They would not be mourned. A death in glorious battle was something any young Graug would strive for. Fortunately, their sacrifice had not been in vain. The mall had fallen firmly under control of Mephirium's forces, though it remained besieged. This would serve as the temporary FOB for Mister [member="Gulliver Foyle"] to direct his forces for the greater assault. Mephirium left the newly captured land in capable hands.

Meanwhile, the mutated humans that Grudge had gifted Mephirium split into two groups. The majority ravaged their way to the captured mall. They were to report to Foyle's command. The remainder, roughly six-thousand, would charge the Dark Temple like drunken brigands. They were under no one's command save for Mephirium's own, though they had been informed not to strike out against [member="Darth Kentarch"] or his mercenary band. Such a force could not hope to take the vastly defended Sith Temple, but it could cause enough of a distraction to split some of the loyalist defenders.

With his forces accounted for, Mephirium allowed himself to slip into a momentary meditation as the shuttle made its way toward the location Saeva had set aside. It seemed Mephirium had made a competent purchase in hiring the renowned corporation. Better they serve him than the Dark Lord.

A few agonizingly long moments later, and the shuttle set down alongside twelve others. Each was packed to the brim with 501st soldiers and Graug honor guard. In totality, the force barely broke a thousand, but it would have to do. Saeva had done their job. The 501st would do theirs.

The doors hissed open. Mephirium was momentarily overcome by the symphony of war. His men marched forward with deadly purpose, blasters spraying at enemy positions along the massive courtyard. The Graug charged like animals, war glaives raised to rend loyalist fighters. They fell in droves. The stormtroopers quickly moved toward whatever cover they could find, and the siege truly began.

Mephirium drew in a deep breath and donned his mask. It was an old traditional thing crafted of phrik and painted obsidian. He took a moment to adjust to the HUD and drew his cowl up over it, igniting his lightsaber as he did so. The cyan blade's hum served as a rallying cry for the soldiers of the 501st. Mephirium held it up high as he strode out of the ship, and soon found himself deflecting blaster bolts left and right.

A moment of this proved to be enough. Grumbling a curse under his breath, the Sith Lord darted behind the courtyards outer wall where a number of his men had hastily erected a field hospital.

He turned toward his retinue.

"This will be a slog," he growled, "Mister Foyle will direct our men across the planet. Our goal -" He motioned toward the palace, " - is the throne. Daughter, Captain, you will stay by my side. Colonel, the men are yours to lead."

He paused for a moment, turned about, and clapped a sergeant on his orange pauldron. "Send the Graug forward. Inform them that whichever of them breaks through the loyalist line will receive my personal blessing."

The man mumbled a clipped agreement and rushed off toward one of the reptilian chieftains. Mephirium clicked his teeth, switching to the TACCOMM.

"Saeva, I have arrived with reinforcements. Flank around the palace. Don't allow them any route of escape. I won't let this to become a chase through the city streets if the Dark Lord decides to flee."

[member="Rigor"], [member="Thrukk Gulpdar"], [member="Laguz Vald"], [member="Bethany Haverford"], [member="Aelius Varangian"], [member="Darth Ferus"], [member="Darth Kentarch"], [member="Darth Adekos"], [member="Darth Carach"], [member="Aklanor"], [member="Darth Vornskr"], [member="Catalys Maijora"], [member="Drana'stair'eno"]

 

[Bolt]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

No-Show on his wrist, Force Cloak in place, Zaiden Greyson moved surely amongst the battle. Once or twice he was almost hit, but being guided by the Force let him move with a simple sureness that was usually unmet. Before long he was nearing a makeshift hospital tent, with men already being carried inside.

He sighed, long ago he had given up on war such as this. But he saw its merits. This was a strike at the Dark Lord, the one whom had attempted for so long to seem Godlike. Now it was his time. He would see that his actions did not bring all that he wished.

Zaiden found himself listening to a man inside the tent, and stiffened. He had heard that voice...

 

[Abelain Narv'uk]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

Space was vast and seemingly endless to the eye. It stretched on and on, darkness dominating the majority of the area. Though, within that darkness were stars, balls of gas and fire that made themselves noticed among the dim backdrop of space through their intense power. These stars were ultimately quite common, each holding it's own place and casting it's glorious light upon the Universe. However, even with all the infinity that space seemed to encompass, sometimes stars would collide. It was in these situations that stars found themselves battling for their right to exist, sapping energy from their dying rival and fueling their own resolve with that carcass of hydrogen. When that star had dominated, it became stronger, more filled with energy to continue it's reign.

The Arue'tii could not help but think of stars as the broadcast came through. There were greater forces at work than himself, each one vying for control. In the end, he was only a simple cloud of gas, contributing to one of two colossus in their struggle. Of course, the decision was simplified with basic self interest. Abelain would align himself with the force that seemed most likely to become victor. At the moment, that was difficult to tell, but there was no reason to rush into such heavy decisions. He could not offer nearly as much as what was already on the board to either side, though the three-hundred super-soldiers within the Paladin spoke of the contribution that he could make, as well as the ship itself.

The soldiers would not mind whichever decision he made, at least not the ones that had been given the serum. Many of them felt betrayed, and would be perfectly willing to execute their Dark Lord, loyalty having rotten away when their comrades had. Turning to Lieutanent Stall, Abelain gave his orders, "Set a course for Coruscant, inform me when we near arrival." Stall simply nodded, directing the remaining bridge crew to their activities.

The question of which star would remain victorious burned in Abelain's mind.

 

[Julian Valentine]

CORUSCANT

Cloudcutters and superskytowers stretched seemingly into infinity. Valentine sat at an outdoor cafe, he had been enjoying his time on Coruscant but he knew at any moment that could change. His eyes followed the impossibly tall structures up, he squinted, uncertain just where they stopped. It made him sick. He had spent long stints on Nar Shaddaa, but their towers were dwarfed by those of Coruscant. If you can't built out, you start to built up.

The bustle of the streets took him off-guard. The denizens of Coruscant, those who lived in the baroque and gleaming city, the comforts of life were taken for granted. They seemed all but oblivious to the Colonies and outwards, uncaring for their struggles. Coruscant was a dreamworld of ecstasy and euphoria, but below the city, deep in the abysmal urban depths, millions lived and died without ever seeing the sun. Like rot growing silently in a tooth.

He got a transmission on his comms, he gazed down to his palm underneath the table. The message was clear. He made no move to respond, and got back to his meal. You didn't want to start a fight on an empty stomach. Stormtroopers began clearing out the district, confirming that there was a lockout. "I won't be any trouble," he said as the squadron shut down the diner.

Heads turned, and so did Valentines, there was blaster fire in the distance, and screams cut short. He looked to the troopers and their communicators buzzed, "Sith at.. My location. Team's de-" The commanding officer split off from the main group, taking with them four other troopers. They were jogging towards another venue a few blocks down. Valentine watched curiously as he packed his belongings.

Under the heavy scrutiny of the stormtroopers vigilant eye, Valentine firmly placed his helmet over his head. The wailing of a speeder could be heard, and an unknown came roaring past them at full-throttle. The wind was enough to knock the flimsy chairs over. He picked up his bag and moved along as ordered, to return to his home. But he had no home here, sure a hotel room, but he wasn't here on vacation.

He had checked the list of associates on the mission. None of them he recognized until he stumbled upon a certain fish. [member="Ghorua the Fish"], to be exact. An old friend and associate, one he had formerly mentored but the kid was getting good at the game and so they split ways. It would be more beneficial to work together, Valentine was the brain, Ghorua was the brawn. He began to hail him on his communicator, "It's Valentine. Heard you might be on Coruscant. Come see me."

 

[Bethany Haverford]

Behind her helmet, Bethany smiled, turning her face away as [member="Darth Mephirium"] moved on to other priorities. She activated her comm. "Five hundred first, you are clear for descent. Imperial Shuttle remain behind; all other pilots, your landing zones are clear and you have your orders." A series of confirmations rang in her helmet, deafening her briefly as she fell into step just behind Mephirium, one hand on the blaster at her hip.

For once, she left the copilot's chair to someone else-- [member="First Daughter"] was the expectation-- when they took their places for the descent to the surface. Bethany closed her eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the few moments of peace interrupted only by the faint sound of reports filtering in on the lowered volume of her radio. Safe landings. She opened her eyes as they settled down and was unstrapped and standing, removing her rifle from her back before anyone else had risen.

While Mephirium gathered himself, Bethany's footsteps echoed through the open door and down the ramp, eyes scanning the ranks of her men and the surrounding area to take stock of how their men had taken position in the aftermath of Saeva's initial clear. It was obvious that the resistance was lessened, but there was enough that it was going to take time to push their way back to the doors and hold it. A flash of color prompted an instinctive raise of her rifle and a bolt that put down the loyalist guard who had risen from cover. The 501st were well trained; the majority were in solid holding positions already. Bethany laid covering fire for a pair of soldiers working their way to the other side of the courtyard before a few quick steps and a sudden crouch put her behind cover to avoid being shot herself. She had already made herself a target. It must have been the non-standard issue armor.

Her eyes tracked Mephirium's progress as he exited the shuttle taking care of his own defenses. Bethany used the opportunity to pinpoint and put down a few of those loyalists who had opted to target the future Dark Lord as she darted the short distance back to his side. Even as she acknowledged the necessity of morale, she wished he wouldn't make himself stand out so quickly. Her eyes scanned the ranks of injured in the makeshift hospital without really seeing anyone. There were sergeants in there. She hoped their seconds were prepared. [member="Gulliver Foyle"] , Mephirium and she had spoken at length about the utilization of the 501st and the strategy to be set in place for the overthrow. She thanked the stars that these were well-trained soldiers. It would make the task at least marginally easier.

She flinched away from a blaster shot that glanced over the top of the courtyard wall they were sheltering behind. Mephirium's order to remain to direct the local men gave her no more than a moment's hesitation; they had discussed this before. When there was no acolyte, no royal guard, it had made sense for her to remain at his side as additional defense. Now, the need was no longer there and other aspects of the assault required direct leadership. Her place, as always, was with her men.

"My lord," she agreed and left the group without further acknowledgement, mind turning to the task at hand. She should have no men off their feet who could fight; even as she made her way back through the field hospital, she saw those with blaster burns on their armor rising to return to the fight. If you could hold a blaster, you had purpose left to you.

"Squad sergeants," she called into her comm as she joined one squad whose numbers had been decimated in the initial onslaught. "Any squads under five men, find stragglers to replenish your ranks." She surveyed the distant side of the first step courtyard briefly before getting back behind cover and easing further over so as not to be where the enemy expected her. "Be ready to move forward on my command!

"Graug warriors," she bellowed. "One solid mass, break their lines on my order! ... Advance!"

With a fury enhanced by Mephirium's declaration of blessings and glory, the Graug roared in approval and violence and charged into a torrent of fire.

It was a hammer, admittedly. At least they had the disposable forces for it.

"Five-Oh-First, advance!" she called, breaking cover along with them. It was dangerous, returning fire uphill with allies ahead of you, but the Graug were valuable shields and those who actually made it to the enemy took a few with them before they succumbed to their wounds.

The fire broke through the Graug line.

"Graug warriors, take cover!" A few disobeyed and allowed themselves to be slaughtered as Bethany shoved a soldier down and fell beside him. "I said cover!"

Not far. Not far enough. Her lips thinned as she readjusted her grip on her weapon and rose to her knees, selecting a target, taking a few well-simed shots, and then dropping behind cover again. This was going to take time.

[member="Rigor"], [member="Thrukk Gulpdar"], [member="Laguz Vald"], [member="Aelius Varangian"], [member="Darth Ferus"], [member="Darth Kentarch"], [member="Darth Adekos"], [member="Darth Carach"], [member="Aklanor"], [member="Darth Vornskr"], [member="Catalys Maijora"], [member="Drana'stair'eno"]

 

[Darth Kentarch]

DARK TEMPLE: OUTER AREA

"INCOMING!"

Darth Kentarch didn't quite catch who was screaming, but there was a sudden explosion that sent several of his men flying into the air. Raising his hand to shield himself and his face from the debris and dirt from the impact. He reached out with the force to find the source of the heavy gun or mortar that was firing on his position. Even with his heightened senses in the force, locating the emplacement was incredibly difficult. Heavy Repeaters were laying out suppressing fields of fire by both sides, making standing up for to long or moving between cover a hazardous endeavor. The exchange of volleys by blasters, the use of thermal detonators, the battering of anti-air craft guns blasting away, made the sound of battle around the Dark Temple deafening. It was clear loyalist forces knew that they were traitors now. And the battle was really heating up.

"We're going to need a fire mission on that emplacement!" A young mercenary captain shouted to the Sith Lord.
Kentarch got on his communicator and began barking orders to the capital ship. "I need a scan on defensive positions around the temple. We got an enemy emplacements and we are taking heavy fire!" He shouted over the roar of battle. Then another explosion sent another half a dozen of his men flying up into the air, the bolt that caused such destruction was yellowm, which meant it was likely some kind of Particle cannon. "Anytime Blood Dusk, got all the time in the world." He said growing impatient, as yet another large yellow bolt struck a couple yards behind him, this time it was a near miss.

"Heavy ground weapon! 400 meters northeast to your position, warning target is danger close for a fire support mission." The response finally came from the lone capital ship supporting Kentarch's operation.
Glancing about he noticed one of the soldiers nearby had fallen with a HH-15 rocket launcher. In a sudden rush, the sith dashed as fast as he could northeast towards the particle cannon. Using the force he pulled the rocket launcher to his hands. The world around him a blur as he slid behind some cover, pulse rifle fire streaking by him in an attempt to save the turret. Instead of using the guidance system, Kentarch let his feeling and senses guide him. In only a few seconds he popped out and fired the launcher, not soon after the rocket itself smashed into the turret blowing it pieces.

No time to take a break however. He could only focus on one problem at a time, the division would fight to secure the area and hold it, but Kentarch was not able to handle every fire fight or threatening situation himself in the combat zone. "Take your time Ferus. We got all day." He mumbled to himself sarcastically, wondering when [member="Darth Ferus"] would arrive to help make a stand.

In a blizzard of blaster fire Kentarch felt a sudden change in the battle. Shifting focus to the temple steps a horde of mutated humans charged the Dark Temple, Their minds may be gone, but their suicide run would be a massive distraction to the loyalists as it would be destructive to their forces. The Sith Lord seized the initiative and began to bark new orders into his comm. "Concentrate heavy blaster fire on the right and left flanks of that mutant infantry charge! Have snipers pick off combatants as the emerge from the main temple entrance. Demolitions teams should-" Before he could finish his orders, Kentarch was knocked clean off his feat and sent flying to the ground. In the heat of the moment as his body rolled across the ground, the Sith deduced he had been hit by some kind of sonic detonator or explosive. Yet as his vision and mind refocused, he realized the assault had came through the force.

Standing up from the force push he was confronted by another Sith Lord. A Dark Honor Gaurd, specialized in lightsaber combat. "Kark." He muttered to himself. Kentarch's Sith Lightsaber came to life. The Honor Guard raised his own lightsaber. "Traitor. You think you can win here today? Your outmatched, outnumbered, your death is all but certain. Your life belongs to the Dark Lord of the Sith and the One Sith." His voice boomed. Kentarch took a high guard with his saber in both hands. "If my life is yours and the One Sith's, come and take it!" He shouted back and charged.

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

[Ak'lya]

Today had started like a normal day for John. He had been walking home from work, which, for reasons known only to the force, took him past the Valley thingie the sith had constructed. He didn't like it, but he had no control over it. After all, who spoke out against the Sith? Shaking his head, he had kept going until he heard the broadcast of Darth Mephirium. After watching in horror for a moment, he began to move as fast as he could, trying to get to somewhere safe before anything happened. Crowds rushed around him, and he was nearly taken off his feet.

The sound of a massive set of repulsorlifts straining filled the air as a massive ship settled over the valley. As it moved into position, the crowd shifted, and for a moment, he lost his footing, swept up in the wave of sentients fleeing the scenes of war.

At least his little girl was someplace else.

 

[Gulliver Foyle]

The Force fights on the side with the best artillery.

That was one of the oldest rules in warfare. Sure, artillery meant a lot more now that mere cannon, but the basic principle was still the same.

"Send out the Fisters. I want eyes on every inch of that palace."

Most of the 501st was held safely in reserve. There simply wasn't enough room in the bazaar to stage all of them, and with that many of the berserker mutants rushing the palace, there wasn't much point in a coordinated infantry assault anyway. Gulliver had witnessed suicide charges before, and they were utterly terrifying from either side of the battle. Whatever the defenses of the palace might be, they were about to have their hands full.

Since they were likely to attract the nexu's share of the attention, Gulliver planned to be sneaky. Send out groups of forward observers to the ubiquitous skyscrapers that seemingly covered every square inch of the planet, specifically the ones surrounding the palace. They would be able to direct fire from the ships still in orbit. Meanwhile, heavy shuttles would begin emplacing arty on the rooftops of the towering buildings. The shots would be tricky as hell, but the 501st was a competent lot, and at any rate, it wasn't like the Sith cared much about collateral damage.

The guns were important. Though the fleet had designated some of their guns for the use of the ground troops, they were engaged in combat, and there was no guarantee they'd be able to stay on station much longer. They could provide top cover fairly well at the moment, but there was no guarantee that would last. Unreliable fire support was almost as bad as none at all.

Of course, those guns would be less than worthless if they didn't have a way to keep air support off their backs, so each artillery emplacement would come with its very own AAA gun. To bolster their air defense capabilities, the buildings would be liberally seeded with fire teams equipped with shoulder-launched SAMs. The missiles were short range, but they packed a punch, and there were a lot of them.

Their only restriction was to avoid civilian casualties as much as possible. It was a given that someone not involved would take a bullet at some point, but they weren't gonna kill anyone that might lead to bad press down the road if they could help it.

That, however, was a little later. The Fisters were still getting into place now.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The compact assault shuttle backed right up to the transparisteel, or what was left of it. A quick burst from Sergeant Sneed's compact slugthrower shotgun made quick work of the floor to ceiling window. The small team of Forward Observers, colloquially known as Fisters, piled out. The floor of the office building was mostly abandoned, the inhabitants having evacuated at the start of the conflict. The lower floors of the building were in chaos, but up here, it was nice and quiet. They quickly made their way to the far side, the side that was facing the palace.

"I need a scan on defensive positions around the temple. We got an enemy emplacement and we are taking heavy fire!"

The message crackled over the comms, relayed by the ships in orbit.

::Tango Two Three, this is Overlord. Do you have eyes on?::

Sneed swore. Of course they'd be the first on station.

"Overlord, this is Two Three. Roger, I've got eyes on. Prepare to copy grid."

::Send it.::

Estimating an enemy location at a distance was a skill that took years to master. Sneed and his team had been training for missions like this together for at least three years. They already had the map pulled up, and had estimated the enemy position. Fuentes read out the coordinates, and Sneed relayed them to Overlord.

::That's a good copy Two Three. Standby.::

It would take a few seconds to process the fire mission.

::Shot.::

"Shot, over."

That last part was retransmitted to [member="Darth Kentarch"] and his retinue.

A few seconds later:

::Splash.::

"Splash, over."

The bolt came streaking down from the sky a few seconds later, exactly on target.

Two Three was only one team of many. Anyone who needed fire support would get it, at least for now.

[member="Bethany Haverford"] | [member="Julian Valentine"] | [member="Abelain Narv'uk"] | [member="Razor Shot"] | [member="Darth Mephirium"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Rigor"] | [member="Darth Ferus"] | [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"] | [member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[The Handmaiden]

War.

There was a sound to it. A distinct tone that echoed throughout ones being. It had come to this world often over the last few millenia, had reared it's head over and over again. The Republic, The Seperatists, Empire's upon Empires. It was a repeating cycle of death, destruction, and the tearing of the fabrics of peace. It was beautiful to some, the illustrious sounds of war sounding like a concerto, one to be brazed and loved, one to be listened to as the ages passed and ended.

For others it was horror.

The sight of those burned, the sounds of those screaming, the scorching of the earth and the scarring of children being too much for most to handle. For those that saw the horrors of war, the true horrors, there was no in between. There was no one man capable of holding both opinions. One either came to love the sounds of the concerto or they despised it with all their heart. There was no standing in the middle, no balancing upon the fence. You had to pick a side, you always had to pick a side. There was no indecision in the labors of war, no stagnation and the passing of time, one always had to choose, always. That was the way of things, the lesson that the past had taught.

Many knew that lesson.

Many had chosen to ignore it.

Many still chose to ignore it, but not The Handmaiden. She had made her choice, she had made her decision. Her black cloak hung around her shoulders, her hood obscuring and hiding her face, her horn protruding from within. She wandered through the halls of the palace, her ears perking and twitching as she heard the sounds and echos of war. She felt a thrum within her chest, a song light of heart that seemed pleasing to her ears.

She shifted and moved about, slithering between rushing soldiers and angry Sith Lords. She cared not for which side they had chosen, at least not yet. Instead she moved towards the central chamber, her steps barely echoing with the patter of bare feet.

 

[Tyberius Fel]

With a metallic hiss, the blast doors of the shuttle retracted unveiling a whirling tempest of multi-color blaster fire. Aelius stepped forth, hardened to the stench of wretched decay in the air and the sight of his mutilated comrades, limbs often sewn meters from bodies. It was of no consequence to the Royal Guard. All men must die and what greater glory is it to give one's life to let the Galactic Empire in the drapings of the Sith be reborn? Their sacrifice would be remembered, and that was a better fate then most of the doomed fools who fought against his Emperor could claim to receive. A sudden tingle traveled down his spine and on trained reflex, Aelius cocked his head in the direction of a hidden sniper and with a whirl of his forcestaff deflected a emerald blaster bolt back into the man's breast. These men would fight tooth and nail, even in the destroyed rubble of their Lord's palace.

His thumb glided over the force pike's setting, sliding it to maximum. The vibro spear head cackled to life with enough lethal electricity to sever limbs at a tap or subdue a full grown wookie. True to his role, The Sovereign Protector guarded his Lord as he valiantly lifted his azure lightsaber into the smoke and amber filled air, a rallying point for his men, one that filled even the most tired men of the 501st with a renewed burst of adrenaline and valor. Even Aelius felt his heart swell with a certain pride as he remained at Mephirium's side, continuing to deflect blaster bolts. Of course, Mephirium needed no defense. He was a incredibly powerful Sith Lord -- but his mind would be better suited focused on continuing to lead the wild and wicked charge into the Dark Lord's palace than parrying off the blades and blasters of pot-shotting foes.

Out of the corner of his eye he spied an armored figure commanding the Graug mutants and 501st Stormtroopers with equal resolve and efficiency. Colonel Haverford? Once a Stormtrooper himself, Aelius recognized the air of authority and strong commanding prowess when he saw it. Mephirium should consider himself fortunate to have such men and women on his side. And not ruled by fear either, but adulation. Another figure sprouted in the other side of Aelius' peripheral vision. A wounded loyalist, high on adrenaline mounted a mad suicide charge towards Mephirium's retinue, vibroblade in hand. The Royal Guard Captain decided Mephirium should not have to bother himself with such insects. With the force augmenting his leg muscles, Aelius leapt a few feet from Mephirium's side and in the same smooth motion practiced and refined in the service of Palpatine so many centuries ago, swung the Force Pike upwards to the crotch of the soldier. The vibrohead razored through the soldier, splitting him from groin to neck as the electric current boiled his insides. He fell in two, vertically bisected, with steaming intestines spilling out onto a pudding of human fat.

Without losing his stride, Aelius was immediately back at Mephirium's side the very next moment as they neared the Field Hospital, silent as ever as he listened to him deliberately hand out instructions. "My Lord--" The Royal Guard respectfully cut in. "We have space superiority, for this fleeting moment. I suggest we make use of it. Our Star Destroyers could fire orbital artillery in positions around the Palace, leveling any potential escape routes.. at the small price of danger close to our soldiers, however." A explosion erupted behind the Royal Guard, lightly denting his armor with shrapnel and tattering his cloak, though he paid no mind to it. What was a Guardsman without a stiff upper lip, after all.

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Finally, the words of Vornskr called out to him and some of his other compatriots which included his apprentice, [member="Braxus Zambrano], and a beautiful Twil'lek that was a slave to [member="Darth Vornskr"], [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]. It pleased him to know that he wouldn't be part of the reinforcements that would clean up the spots and smudges that the first wave of revolutionists forgot to immaculate for the new order that would be led by a worth Sith Lord who would then become the Dark Lord of the Sith and the Emperor of the One Sith. The Mandalorian was always one of the first persons to be on the front lines to confront the enemies of either the people of his culture, or the enemies of his clients; however, he wouldn't be one of the first thousand to meet and greet the enemy with his unique crossbow. Vornskr had kept him on the bridge of the Ruination for some apparent reason that Vilaz had no knowledge of. The Warrior was expecting the Sith to give some battalions of his own forces and secure a landing point which would be where Vornskr and the rest of his forces arrived, but he thought wrong when the Epicanthix ordered him to close to him on the bridge of his flagship.

"As you wish," The Bounty Hunter replied to the Zambrano when he was summoned to him. The Field Marshal followed the dark figure and tried to pick up the pace of the Sith Lord. After walking through the durasteel corridors of the Star Destroyer they arrived at Vornskr's personal shuttle where the man undressed himself from his robes and began attiring himself in armor that would best suit him since they were about mere moments away from joining the rest of their allies in the battle for the fate of the Sith.

"I'm assuming you finished your rituals, Vornskr," the Warrior asked to his client as he seated himself on the shuttle that was flying out in the vacuum of space and heading towards the planet of Corusant.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

LOCATION: COURSCANT
EQUIPMENT: IN BIO (MINUS THE MASSIFF)

"It's Valentine. Heard you might be on Courscant. Come see me."

They say home is where the heart is. Home ties families together. Ghorua had to say that if this were true, his home was one of the most despicable places in the galaxy. Ghorua smiled. Indeed, his heart was in Courscant. A large, bustling planet with a deeper, darker secret side. The Herglic liked to think that it mirrored his own personality. Courscant was home to him. He was born in it's squalor, raised in the filth, and became a man in it's dismal depths. This was where Ghorua the Fish felt most comfortable, and this is where he found himself now.

Ghorua was walking the streets, conflict erupting around him. He was here for a job on behalf of one [member="Darth Mephirium"], to look for high-end targets to take out. Doing the Dark Lord's work, as they say. He was close to most of the conflict, maybe it was all a mile away.The Herglic had been trolling the borders for a while, looking for someone that looked important, when he heard his datapad buzzing. Lifting it up, he received the message from Valentine. The Hunters had worked together in the past, and did compliment each other's weaknesses. With a bit of a nod to himself, Ghorua sent a message back. Five words. "Be there in a bit."

Smiling to himself, Ghorua fitted his Koodan-Class helmet over his head, and hailed a taxi.

-A Few Minutes Later-

Ghorua found himself outside of a cafe, where he quickly saw who he was looking for. Standing outside of the now-closed shop, a man in a peculiar helmet waited. Walking forward confidently, Ghorua saluted to Valentine. "Valentine, old friend! How are you doing this fine afternoon?" Ghorua stuck out his arm to shake. Julian Valentine was one of the few people the large Herglic really respected. Unlike Ghorua, the the human actually planned ahead.

"I assume we're going to be doing something about this," the large Hunter gestured around, comfortable in the chaos. A few more Stormtroopers rushed past, and an explosion sounded not too far away. About time I teamed up with a real Hunter, he thought, unconcerned.

[member="Julian Valentine"]

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

"As commanded, my Lord," she said, sticking with Lord Mephirium as they descended to the planet. She declined to take the co-pilots chair offered by [member="Bethany Haverford"], instead choosing to stand behind the Sith Lord's right shoulder in a place of deference to the Master. The skies, space, and ground of Coruscant were complete bedlam now as their forces fought those loyal to the Dark Lord.

As the Lord ignited his cyan saber, her traditional red lightsaber flared to life. Going down the ramp of the shuttle, she deflected any stray blaster bolt that neared her back towards enemy positions. She would simply follow and obey the Lord's orders, fighting enemies that might appear once their advance on the palace began.

 

[Catalys Maijora]

Behind his flagship, a fleet of starships gathered behind their executor. Frigates, cruisers, destroyers, and carriers all played their part and insignificantly they looked from a distant, but as the fleet drew closer to the enemy, they would soon unleash the fury of suns.

Crossing his arms behind his back, Catalys stood tall and gazed out onto the battle. In a bright flash that lasted merely a second or less, a star destroyer became one with the void. Pieces of its debris shot out in every direction, whilst the main hulk of the wreckage spun helplessly in orbit. The ship's A.I. swiftly calculated, gathering information about the enemy fleet. Knowing very well the nature of their starships, the tactical data was distributed to the officers and crew of each vessel in Catalys' fleet.

"Give me firing solutions in five." The agent's voice was amplified by the modulator, the masked Umbaran glanced back to the officers of the Primordial.

With the help of the vessel's advanced systems, the forward guns charged online. "Solutions in four..." The hellbore canons fixed onto the nearest star destroyer, and with a firing range of the distance between a planet and it's moon, the massive projectors rotated along their central axis. "Make that three and much, much less..." The A.I. brought targeting to maximum, aiming to bash through the shields and hull, and cripple -- if not destroy -- the ship's reactor. "On your orders, Commander."

"Fire!" In the blink of an eye, the twin hellbores spun rapidly and unleashed a volley of energy, which after a minute, would become equivalent to two-hundred forty concussion missiles traveling towards their target at twenty-percent lightspeed.

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

OOC: I know you said you're not a fleeter, so I' won't be doing any number-crunching or anything. Just here to roleplay a dramatic Star Wars battle.