Dominion Dire Consequences | BotM Dominion of Copero / Sarvchi

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Raid and Reunite
Tags: The Mongrel | Ozma Olumivius | Romund Sro | Garza | A'Runda | Ishani Dinn | Michael Barran |
Links: Weapons​

Glaring out from his perch, Zachariel was witness to the bloodshed and violence of the warbands. They swarmed across the town, killing as they went, indiscriminate of those they slaughtered. However, it was a sight he had seen a thousand times before, and he ignored it in favor of his search. Then he heard a cry, from a familiar but altered voice. Head turning, Zachariel's lenses closed in on a particular figure and his two opponents. Grinning at the sight, Zachariel pointed.
"There."

Stepping off the buildings ledge, Zachariel plummeted to the ground, landing with a thud that cracked the ground. Next to him came his two Chosen, cracking the ground and making their three landing points into a shallow crater. Then they began to run, charging towards the battle towards the spaceport. A good target, it would give them more slaves should they capture it. Their run was short, for them, and they crossed the land with speed. As they reached their target, the trio slowed and Zachariel watched as the Mongrel was engaged by one of the opponents.

Chuckling to himself, Zachariel raised his arm and chopped it down to the side. It was a silent order for his Chosen to ensure no one interfered. Meanwhile, Zachariel drew his axe, leaving his sword on his hip. Marching forward, Zachariel allowed his senses to flare, even as he called out.
"Mongrel! It's been awhile." He closed the distance further, looking over towards Ishani's position. "Some things don't change though, such as you finding the most interesting toys to play with."

Laughing, Zachariel swung his axe and began moving to the side, glancing between Ishani and Arlo. An interesting pair that Mongrel had found himself.

 

[A'Runda]

Enemies: Maw
Allies: Michael Barran and gang

---

​

A’Runda listened carefully to the newcomers as they spoke. Understanding more so the severity of the blade that was put into his hands. Finding it similar to how he was given the honor way back when to make and wield his own gaffi stick with his old tribe. He nodded to the seeming leader’s words. They spoke of highlanders. He was unfamiliar with the term but it was clearly their people or their culture at least. Looking over to “white eyes” he saw their garbs, not looking too dissimilar to the shamans and elders of the Tusken tribes.

They spoke with great sincerity. That regardless of if A’Runda felt as though he could accept this bestowed honor, now that he was given it. Much like his own sensitivity to The Force, A’Runda never had a choice in whether or not he wanted such a “gift” but he lived with it.

“Yes, I believe it would be nice to have… what do you say? Comrades.” He said trying to find the right term for it. “I have been on my lonesome for a while. After the Maw’s advances on Jakku I could no longer stand by and not take action.” A’Runda said, explaining himself some and why he was here to begin with. Afterall if they recognized him as someone native to Tatooine they probably were a little confused.

Now he finally walked down from his high point on the mound of rubble. Stepping into their level, subtly signifying his acceptance as one of them, and not as someone figuratively, and literally looking down on them. "You're right, the fight is getting more and more complex with each passing day. We can't fight it alone." Eyeing Barren he presented his hand to shake. A gesture of good faith he came to understand in the galaxy. "My name is A'Runda, Son of Runda of Clan Rok'urk'us" He said, using his full name from Tatooine. They showed faith and trust in him, he would do the same of not just sharing his name. But where he really comes from.

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Sarvchi, Spaceport Market
Allies: Ozma Olumivius | Romund Sro | Garza | Zachariel Steelblood
Foes: A'Runda | Ishani Dinn | Michael Barran | Westenra Mina

Spoiler: TL;DR

• The Mongrel receives Tyra's sword
• He probes Arlo's defenses with his dread blade
• He greets Zachariel Steelblood warmly

These particular sorcerers had the right balance of magic, it seemed, to brush aside both attacks. No matter; The Mongrel was accustomed to having to vary his tactics. If neither blasters nor grenades, light and sound nor anesthetic vapor, would have any effect on them, he'd keep fighting until he found something that would. Charging through the pinkish cloud with his scattergun roaring, his hounds pulling ahead, the warlord prepared himself to switch gears. His blazing visor carefully observed everything his twin foes were doing.

Looking for vulnerabilities. For opportunity.

The first warhound leapt through a hail of blasterfire, only to meet its end when one of the mages stabbed between its armor plates with a spear. The other shot flames from its open mouth, the natural gift of the charhound, straining (but not breaching) the second mage's energy shield. Her twin weapons - a laser-sword and a more traditional blade - cut through it before the creature could do more. The Mongrel mentally commanded their bravery. To the Scar Hounds, the wardogs were members of the tribe, equally worthy of entry into paradise.

These two had died well, without fear or flinching.

One of the mages fell back, into cover, leaving the other still standing in The Mongrel's path. He had an energy shield, one that would likely stop physical projectiles just as well as blaster shots (at least until its power cell ran out), so the scattergun blasts were unlikely to hurt him unless they found a lucky angle. The warlord let the weapon drop from his hands; it dangled across his chest, held in place by a leather shoulder strap. He hauled it around his body, so that it rested across his back, while he pulled his dread blade with his other hand.

The vile weapon, its crackling crimson energy powered by a mangled half of a kyber crystal, screamed to life. It was not as powerful as a lightsaber, but it could meet one in battle and survive the experience. Despite the mighty weapon he now held in a cybernetic arm, its synthmuscles powerful enough to rip apart durasteel plating or tear a man's head clean off, The Mongrel slowed as he approached Arlo. Although his spear appeared a simple and unassuming weapon, the warlord took nothing for granted when facing mystics.

Suddenly the shapechanging warrior he'd seen earlier taking down the AT-STs was at The Mongrel's side. With a deft toss she passed him her own blade, and though the warlord could not feel the Force, he could tell that it was a fine weapon. He saluted her with it, though he kept his burning gaze firmly locked on Arlo, who was trying to keep him at a distance with the point of his spear. By the time he glanced her way again, she was gone, twisting into a fresh form as she hunted snipers among the rooftops. She came and went like the wind.

A shame; she intrigued the warlord, and it would have been interesting to see how she fought up close. He could not help but be flattered that she had chosen to conduct her latest hunt in the form of one of his warhounds; evidently he had chosen the beasts well, if a mage coveted their strength and speed. The Mongrel gave her sword an experimental twirl in his off-hand, and found it perfectly balanced. With a sword in each arm, he had the advantage of number of strikes, and also of speed in maneuvering his weapons. That against Arlo's reach.

Time to test out just how strong that spear was.

"Let's see what cowardly tricks you have up your sleeve, sorcerer," The Mongrel told Arlo. He swung his dread blade in a wide arc as he approached, openly telegraphing the blow. He put bone-shattering force into the attack, enough to easily cleave Arlo in two if he remained in its way. If he blocked with the spear and it held against the power and molten edge of the energy sword, that told the warlord something. If he chose not to parry, evading rather than slowing the strike or batting it aside, that also told him something he could use.

His second sword lay in wait to exploit any opening.

Even as he began to maneuver, however, he heard the rumbling shout of a familiar voice: his former warlord, Zachariel Steelblood himself. It was unsurprising that they had come face to face here, when both of their tribes had been deployed to the same world. The Mongrel was always uncertain of where the two of them stood. As the man who ruled the tribe in which he had risen, Zachariel shared in every victory The Mongrel ever claimed... but now they were considered equals, and perhaps rivals. It was... dangerous to navigate.

"Too long, Steelblood," The Mongrel replied. "Shall we crush these poor fools together, fighting side by side as we once did?"

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Objective: Evacuate civilians, kill Mawites
Location: Sarvchi, Spaceport Market
Accompanied by: Arlo Renard, a Chaldean Mystic
Opposition: The Mongrel (Arlo engaging) Garza Zachariel Steelblood (Ishani engaging)

A sword was flung toward the already-armed Mongrel by one of his allies. Now dual-wielding two blades, the mangled man advanced upon Arlo.

The Chaldean started to block. His spear didn’t break, but Arlo quickly realized the power behind the strike was cybernetically enhanced. He couldn’t hold it. Though he did his best to evade without buckling under the pressure, he wound up being flung back, putting more distance between them.

“Sorcerer?” Arlo echoed with mock incredulity. “Please. I am only a Mystic.”

He struck, aiming a blow to the Mongrel’s ribs when the Mawite next raised his sword, another to the side of his head, both quick as a lightning strike.

Meanwhile, Ishani now had new problems to deal with. A giant in hulking armor was approaching her position, brandishing an equally massive axe.

“Good grief,” she muttered, staring up at the massive Zachariel. “Can’t you pick on somebody your own size?”

She waited for him to make a move—then ran forward, sliding across the ground and straight between his legs, which to her seemed as massive as two tree trunks. Once behind him, she spun and attempted to slash his back with her lightsaber and then her sword. She’d be aiming for a gap in his armor, provided such a weak spot existed and was visible to her naked eye.

 

[Garza]

Location: Sarvchi Space Port Market
Tags: The Mongrel | Ozma Olumivius | Romund Sro | Michael Barran | A'Runda | Ishani Dinn | Zaka | Zachariel Steelblood |

Another blaster bolt lanced out at me. The sniper was doing all he could to keep me in cover, and not drawing closer. The Hellhound form was rather large, but fast. It was meant to be a speedy body of flesh that could close distances with ease and still carry enough weight and force. The concealment allowed a short time for me to gather thoughts, my wits, and come up with a game plan. A lot of what was done previously was spur of the moment. Even in the shape of a Hound, my neck twisted and cracked with bones. Preparing myself for what I will be doing next. It would take quite the effort to perform.

Rushing out from behind the cover, The flaming mane flowed behind me with speed being my ally. I could see the Sniper clearly. He was taking aim. Even with the the muzzle of a hound, a smile crept on the lips. A snarl that would be reminiscent of a Smiling Dog. A quick shift to the right, I leapt up into the air and shifted again. This time, the muzzle formed into a beak, the forward legs shifting into wings, and the hind legs shifting to talons.

The raven swooped into an allerion roll. Avoiding the bolts that came my direction. Swooping around before almost slamming into the ground mid-shifting into a rodent. The tail long and fleshly, with the ability to be even smaller and run underneath ventilation systems. The bolt slamming hard into a vent instead of myself. Growing larger and feral into a Hound once more to leap higher onto the building the Sniper was upon. Already they turned tail to avoid being hunted down.

The claws of my frame clambered easily over the top. Smacking hard into my shoulder was a bolt from a hold out blaster. It burned with a hatred, and malice that fueled me. The Roar gave the sniper a second look into what he was dealing with. Distance was not on his side now. It was closed easily with my teeth biting down upon him. Claws, and teeth, shredding through his lightly armored frame. Clamping down upon his neck, the jugular, a wave of fire burst from my maw. Burning and branding his very flesh with the Brotherhood. His screams turned to gargling, and finally to nothing. The flames burned closed his throat.

A gentle release of the man as he grasped his throat, and attempted to breathe. Clawed paws shaped into hands. Drifting into a human shape with leather and flesh. Kneeling over the sniper, a Hand pressed against the mans face.

"May whatever god have mercy upon you. I will give no such grace."

Plunging my thumbs into his eyes, the eyes broke under the pressure. Spewing blood and viscera over me. Letting my thumbs roam within the eye sockets. Feeling the flesh sitting upon bone. Scraping it clean and scooping them out. My people, believe in the gifts that others had, could be our own. I wanted these snipers eyes. His ability to do so well with weaponry at such range. Taking the eye "soup" within my hands, I drank and slurped with greed and lust. His sight would now be my own. His force, that was within all beings and objects in the galaxy, would be devoured within my own soul.

 

[Lyssa Io]

"What's it to you, us escaping?" one of the heavily armed Chiss Warriors asked Lyssa behind the safety of a temporary barricade with narrow chokepoints and a Mega-Blaster pointing down a small passageway, that had a lot of dead Maw beyond.

"The Ascendancy is lost. Your government is in tatters after Csilla. They WILL take Copero. Your Sky-Walkers will be captured, experimented on, and brainwashed into the Maw's service. Those who resist brainwashing will be broken utterly into servitude or murdered and you will share this fate if you are captured..." Lyssa answered in a creepily serene manner that caused instinctive feelings of wanting to 'Nope' the hell away from her in many of the Chiss present. That said, they couldn't deny the situation around them.

"And what are you offering as an alternative? Teaming up with Xiphos? I heard what she did at Rhand. She killed thousands of innocents to destroy their world ship. Thousands of her own allies as well. She's crazy." The Chiss Guardsman said.

"Should you spend more than a week as a Maw slave, you too would welcome a quick death. Besides, what sort of deal are you going to get with the other major factions? Refuge? Sympathy? A hot meal once in a while? Lyssa asked. "You'll be a client state at best. Puppets at worst. At least Xiphos will let you be a real warrior, and let you seek revenge on the filth that destroyed your home world free of the moral constraints the other factions would hypocritically impose. The only thing that can stop the Maw is unrelenting, attrition based savagery, inflicted as often as possible, as inhumanely as possible. The compassion of the other idiots who want to take you into their borders are concerned only with looking like heroes, not winning...and their concern with not being perceived as monsters while failing at winning has already allowed the Maw many triumphs. Triumphs that should never have been allowed to happen."

"Is that all your Master is concerned with? Victory?"

"It is right to obtain victory over the Maw at any cost. And it is wrong to suffer a defeat at their hands..." Lyssa replied bluntly. "Or has my unrestrained brutality while fighting them not kept this area from being overwhelmed?"

The blue skinned warrior was silent a moment amidst the turmoil.

"Besides..." Lyssa added. "Who do you think allowed the Maw to get so powerful to start with? The same factions you're thinking of fleeing to are the same ones that were too busy with the Sith to care about the Maw until it was too late."

"Your master fought in those wars too." he pointed out.

"If the NIO, the GA, and the SJC had had their way completely unopposed, how long would it have been before the Ascendancy was bullied into the Bastion Accords, even without the threat of the Maw? You really think a faction as imperialistically belligerent as the NIO would have let you be? You really think that stupid Outbound Flight chit would have held water if the Ascendancy was still actually kicking? Under normal circumstances, without The Maw, you would have found yourself in a fight with them sooner or later. Only present circumstances make them prefer you as living trophies of their mercy and generosity..." Lyssa replied smoothly. "Xiphos doesn't want trophies. Xiphos wants people who hate the Maw so badly almost nothing matters except their ultimate defeat in revenge for Csilla. Xiphos wants to make killing machines out of you. Killing Machines with autonomy, and pride, and wrath. Much like my brothers."

The Chiss Warrior hid it well, but he suddenly had the terrible feeling that her answer was more honest and to the point then what a lot of the other factions would have given him. Even if the answer WAS blatantly playing on his desire for revenge, something obvious to the other Chiss present.

And yet...it was an answer that resonated...

"In the society Xiphos forms you will not be refugees in need of patronage. You will be equals, expected to pull your weight and kill. Any other faction might give you a gun, but only Xiphos will give you a gun and encourage you to be vicious in ways the other factions would never permit in order to defeat the murderers of Csilla."

The Warrior looked hesitant.

"What's compassion and civility gotten you except Maw Victory after Maw Victory?" Lyssa asked.

Just then a Model 1 came running in. He was heavily damaged, missing an arm, but his silvery Nanite "blood" was already hard at work with the repairs.

"Sister! We got a massive fethton of Maw incoming and they look pissed!"

Lyssa turned to him.

"Would you rather reign in Hell, or serve in Heaven? (That soil may best deserve the precious bane: 90 XP)." she inquired.

The Chiss Warrior turned to his fellows.

"Gather all the Sky-Walkers under our direct care." he ordered. "We're leaving."

"You sure?" one of them asked, still clearly uncertain. Still clearly not trusting Xiphos.

"You wanna be some Jedi bootlicker? An NIO lackey?" the first Warrior inquired. "Be my guest."

"I'll buy you some time..." Lyssa said. She looked to her Model 1 brothers.

"Rosco, Moriarty, help defend this section. The rest of you, with me..."

Meanwhile...

The Maw Warriors storming this place had already heard tales of the Nuetralizers at Danuta and elsewhere. Due to there being very few survivors from such encounters, some of the information was contradictory. They struck as lightning, enhancing their fearsome presence by wearing masks modeled in the faces of mythical Atrisian Oni or Tengu. Some opted for war paint, putting bloody grins in Skeletal Faces, even wearing Maw-like war paints to mock their opponents in combat.

Brotherhood Warriors quickly began to understand that the Model 1's had earned every bit of their reputation as Bryn Killers: In such packed spaces, they were easy pickings for the flamethrowers hidden inside their throat, but the Middle 1's also heavily enjoyed getting in close and personal, using corpses as deadly clubs, firing their bio assault sprays at point blank ranges, or simply crushing organs and ripping out hearts. Any area where even *one" Nuetralizer was located quickly became a slaughter-fest: They hid under the corpses for surprise ambushes, used weapons seized from their victims, setting booby traps at points they knew the Maw would have no choice but to cross if they wanted to go deeper. Sith in the bunch found the armor of a Model 1 could stop even the dreaded Lightsaber, and it often end with the Sith getting their neck broken or their head smashed in, after which the Model 1 would pick up their weapon to use against others. While a cackling Model 1 with a red Lightsaber is not the most horrifying thing one could see coming at them in a packed hallway, it was up there, right up there with Samara crawling out of the TV to hunt Naomi Watts.

That said, for all their warrior prowess, they were still outnumbered, and a few had been destroyed already, but not before creating a pile of dead Maw around them.

The Model 1's were rage, brutal, without mercy.

She, however...she would be worse...

As Maw soldiers headed down a passage past a destroyed Model 1...which began to melt and reform into a silvery, feminine figure.

(Character Theme Song Power Up)

(Theme: "The Only One They Fear Is You." by Mick Gordon.)

A Maw warrior screamed as a blade erupted through him from behind, slicing upward and splitting his head in half while two Model 1's burst through the walls on either side.

"CANDY GRAM, SCHUTTAS!" one of the Nuetralizers yelled as he ripped a Warrior's head clean off, using the ripped off head as a club to bludgeon another to death.

Lyssa was flashing blades and speed as she began her deadly rampage, her arm blades shearing through flesh and armor due to their razor sharpness, forming blades tendrils from her back to surprise Maw killers that tried to outflank her, the tendrils flashing through skulls and necks as they attacked from all sides, even her head forming into a spike for headbutting attacks that were usually fatal, grabbing a pistol and emptying it into the face of a particularly large Warrior while her bladed tendrils slashed around like she was an out of control Vaapaad. Four tackled her, only for knives to erupt through their bodies from her as she viciously cut through them, severing an arm.

One managed to stagger her with a shotgun blast while the Nuetralizers were occupied. He hit her five more times, until she fell down, seemingly dead. The Maw Warrior slowly approached...and she leapt back up at high speed, slicing through his weapon, then slicing through him...

She still had the holes in her as she engaged the next gang of savages...

 

[Michael Barran]

Post #4
THE_DRUID
THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD
Objective 3: RAVAGE THE REFUGE

Tags
(Allies): A'Runda Ishani Dinn Zaka
(Opposition): The Mongrel Romund Sro Zachariel Steelblood

'A pleasure, and an honour to meet you, A'Runda. My name is Michael, son of Lord Erskine of Clan Barran. And my people hail from Galidraan III, and our sort are only usually known for soldiering in every possible meaning of the word.'

Meeting A'Runda's hand in the middle in absolute solidarity, the new addition to the brotherhood would shake his new commander's hand to cement his initiation with a sense of finality that all present could see and feel for themselves in seeing them sealing the deal with a business-like handshake. A lasting bond was forming between the Tusken and the Highlanders of Galidraan III, the Woad could see for himself that his subordinates were sure they made no mistake in their decision to accept A'Runda as one of them; and it was there on Sarvchi where history would be made, and remembered by all who dared to tread so far behind enemy lines, remembered by those who knew what social barriers had been transcended to achieve it. The Goidels would go against their reaving ways of old to become Imperials, the Novanian would become mindful of people who would've once been seen as oppressors; and last but not least, the raider was behaving like he belonged on Korriban with the Wildcats, like he was born to fight Death Gangs, Rough Riders and Cirihut Warriors until his dying breath.

'An' this here, this rag-tag group of Anti-Maw Imperials, are none other than the Highland Brotherhood; formerly revolutionaries of the Galidraani Free-State, and now we're searching for new, more-meaningful purpose in this war on the Maw.... Perhaps we can find it for all of us together, brother.'

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Raid and Reunite
Tags: The Mongrel | Ishani Dinn
Links: Weapons​

Stalking around the fight and towards Ishani, Zachariel watched the short clash of weapons. Grinning as Arlo retreated, he chuckled at Mongrel's words. Turning his gaze to Ishani, he responded with a laugh.
"Aye, Mongrel, let's add some more skulls to the throne."

Focusing on Ishani, Zachariel gripped his axe with both hands, advancing closer. Then she rushed him, amusing him and bringing some excitement. Few rushed him, he usually had to close the gap. She slid down and through his legs, Zachariel swung his axe, using one hand to swing faster. It passed just behind her, but let him begin his turn as she emerged behind him. She swung at his back and Zachariel could do little, not that much was needed.

The only weak points in his armor were joints, and as he shifted and spun towards her, she'd see that. The upper part of where elbows would be, and the back of the knee joint. One could suspect there was a weakness under the shoulder pauldrons, but those joints weren't visible. There was one other weak point in his armor, where the legs and main body connected. There she attempted to strike, lightsaber strike hitting only his back and leaving a scorch mark. Her sword cut into the hip joint, hitting at just the edge and going through before hitting the armor and going out again.

Fully facing Ishani now, she'd notice the cut in the under body suit, but a lack of blood, and a lack of pain. Instead, Zachariel laughs as he hefts his axe.
"Tell me, have you ever met anyone equal to me? I have yet to do so, but would welcome a challenge." Axe dropping low in one hand, he scrapes it across the ground as he takes a step closer. "Until then, I'll take your skull."

Jumping forward, Zachariel roars as he swings his axe from one side to the other, aiming to bisect her stomach.
"Blood and Skulls for War!"

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Sarvchi, Spaceport Market
Allies: Garza | Zachariel Steelblood
Foes: Ishani Dinn

Spoiler: TL;DR

• The Mongrel parries Arlo's blows and steps forward
  • He tries to get inside Arlo's guard and pin his long spear on one side of him
• He launches an upward swipe with his dread blade while trying to trap the spear with his other sword

The Mongrel advanced toward Arlo, his cybernetic torso whirring as synthmuscles swelled to provide stronger and swifter blows. "Mystic," he spat, his voice a mechanical rasp, "sorcerer, it's all the same to me. You are weak, wielding unearned supernatural power to force others to live as you see fit." Such was the way of the Jedi, and of all who were like them. They claimed to uphold democracy and morality... but if you deviated from their narrow conception of how life should be lived, they would strike you down with their magic.

Magic that was their birthright, not something earned.

The Mongrel had no birthright. Everything he had become was won through pain and struggle. He despised those who, by some quirk of the supernatural, were given powers beyond the ken of ordinary mortals. He would tolerate their sorceries when they served the Maw, but he did not believe such unequal gifts would exist in the Galaxy To Come. In the paradise that would rise from the galaxy's ashes, all would be made equal. No kings, no ruling elites, no demigods of the Force. Only those willing to struggle and sacrifice, as he had, would prosper.

Arlo lashed out with a pair of spear strikes, but The Mongrel was more than ready. His foe had only one weapon, while he had once in each hand, and his blades moved with the speed and precision of a well-oiled machine. That was what the warlord himself mostly was, after all. With his dread blade he slapped aside the strike at his ribs, while Tyra's sword surged up to block the blow aimed at his head. With each parry he took a step closer, working to negate the advantage of Arlo's reach and get within his guard. Once he did, he'd had the advantage.

As he closed in, the warlord warded off the spear on his left side with Tyra's sword. His right arm brought his dread blade up in a rapid bottom-to-top slash, aiming to bisect Arlo from groin to chin... or hopefully at least catch him across the chest, if he dodged back swiftly enough to avoid the grimmer fate. The mystic was swift, even if he was not as strong as The Mongrel, and that made him a difficult one to pin down and actually wound. But the warlord had fought such foes before. Eventually he would make a slip, prove just a bit too slow.

And then The Mongrel would have him.

On the rooftops, the shapechanger witch was ensuring that the duel was uninterrupted. Men fell before her fangs, or claws, or talons as she moved through the forms of different beasts, bringing the defenders down before they could fire on the Mawite commanders. An awe-inspiring display, proof of the wide-ranging nature of magic. Meanwhile, Steelblood had entered the little makeshift arena that was this thoroughfare, swiftly attacking the other of the roadblock's defenders. It was... strange to be fighting side by side with him again.

Strange, but certainly effective. Steelblood was deadly. It remained to be seen if any could stand against the two of them together...

 

[Darth Strosius]

Location: Copero Shipyards
Objective: SURVIVE
Tags: Raxtos
-----------------------------------------------

Of all the ideas to end in a spectacular amount of failure, it of course had to be the one where he was stuck on a space station. It had been a deceptively simple idea. Steal an advanced ship or two, grab some other tech, and then leave with no one the wiser. From the very beginning it had turned out to be a fools errand, as just about every single one of the ships in question couldn't fly yet. That had just been the first problem.

He glanced behind himself at the small pile of unconscious guards and deactivated droids that had discovered him earlier.

A small part of him hoped that some of them would make it out alive, but he wasn't about to ensure their survival. As the station rocked from another blast he returned his gaze to the terminal that he was typing on, glancing over the various information flickering across it as he copied all that he could onto a datapad. It wouldn't be of too much use, mostly just schematics for some of the more standardized ships they built, but he had to have something to show for his efforts.

Not his sole efforts of course though. Alisteri allowed the warning from his current partner in crime to go unanswered for another moment or two, finishing up the last schematic before he pulled the datapad and turned off the terminal before he tapped on his communicator. "On my way now, looks like we'll be sharing a ride." He wasted no time in extracting himself from the room, making his way towards his companion with all haste.

More and more the station was coming under fire, had he the time and resources he wouldn't have minded making his way up to the control center and giving them a volley or two back in response. Revenge could come later though, now was the time to leave. "I daresay Mr. Raxtos, you act as if you've never been under fire before." There was a small glint of humor in his tone but he didn't bother making a show of it.

There was plenty of time for joking after they had gotten off of the station.

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Objective: Evacuate civilians, kill Mawites
Location: Sarvchi, Spaceport Market
Accompanied by: Arlo Renard, a Chaldean Mystic
Gear: Armor | Lightsaber | Sword
Opposition: The Mongrel (Arlo engaging) Zachariel Steelblood (Ishani engaging)

Arlo kept moving, keeping the distance between him and the Mongrel for as long as possible.

"Mystic, sorcerer, it's all the same to me. You are weak, wielding unearned supernatural power to force others to live as you see fit."

Arlo howled with laughter. “A Mystic uses the Force only to strip other Force Users of their power, you ignoramus! Do you think you’d even still be alive now if I was willing to stoop to their level and magic you to death?”

The Mongrel’s sword slashed across Arlo’s chest, biting through the energy shield and gouging into the dragonskin armor he wore, but not tearing it. He darted backwards nimbly, gritting his teeth against the pain of the impact. It was definitely going to leave a bruise, at the very least.

“If hating the Jedi elite and their unfair control over the fate of the galaxy is really what this is all about, I’d almost suggest you join us," he spat. "You’d fit right in. But then you’d have to stop taking orders from bloodthirsty Sith dogs too, you know.”

Arlo clambered up onto one of the duracrete slabs and leaped upon the Mongrel, spear thrusting down at the Mawite.

Meanwhile, Ishani tuned out Zachariel’s taunting, focused for the time being on not getting hit. Her blow to his heavily armored back didn’t do much damage, nor did her slash to his hip joint. Great. She was dealing with some kind of weird alien and/or Sithspawn who couldn’t be wounded by ordinary weapons.

"Tell me, have you ever met anyone equal to me? I have yet to do so, but would welcome a challenge."

“Uhhh… I once fought a guy who fed on his own pain. The only thing that really affected him was when I used the Force to tickle him,” she replied honestly. “I dunno what his name was, though. Sorry.”

She jumped out of the way of his axe, again winding up behind the great hulking Sith. This time she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, dangling from his shoulders as she dug her sword and lightsaber into his throat.

 

[Djorn Bline]

V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
COPERO
Darth Caelitus | Klassht Hsirsi | Letifer | Aemulor the Hutt

Didn’t take much time for the veteran operative to get inside the facility. With the encroaching Mawites gaining every foot in their assault, security would focus everything on slowing their approach. It was inevitable to fall at their numbers, but there was a chance to save the gifted Chiss.

Only that he would do the saving.

Saving in the form of kidnapping the Chiss children and have them repurposed to his own vision.

A Chiss soldier laid dead at his feet, his murder from Djorn’s handiwork and the body searched for anything of value. Commlink and security cylinder. Everything else was useless to him. Through the commlink he was able to understand everything going around, meaning he could find where had the most dense security. An obvious guess would be the hangars, but that would be a main target to advance on; therefore, little chance for the Sky-walkers to escape.

Finally he had the answer to what he was after after monitoring the comms.

“There.”

 

[Tren Chaar]

D E N I A L

COPERO ORBIT
B-WING HEAVY STARFIGHTER​

---

---

Tren and One Flight skimmed along the surface of the shipyards, dropping concussion bombs at regular intervals and peppering gantries with heavy laser cannon fire. Geysers of flames erupted from the hull of the Chiss structure as the four B-wings tore it to shreds. Unfortunately for the Brotherhood, the heavy starfighter under the Umbaran’s control was built with one task in mind - maximum destruction.

The tactical holo updated showing the flagship of Terror Squadron… recalling its fighters and jumping away from Copero? The remaining Brotherhood ships, including their Super Star Destroyer, surged forward toward Battlegroup Andor. While the admiral could hold them for a time, it would be a slaughter if they got past and trapped Revenant Squadron against the planet's gravity well.

Revenant Ten reported the destruction of the main hanger. “Copy that,” Chaar replied flatly. Tyliame was proving herself to be quite the capable officer. “Circle back and rally near the reactor.”

One Flight swung around the skeleton of an incomplete Chiss cruiser, each dumping a proton torpedo as they sped past. While the wanton destruction of the shipyard was an acceptance of defeat by High Command, the facility couldn’t be allowed to fall into the hands of the enemy. Chaar targeted a mag-crane as he streaked past, blowing it from its housing with a pair of laser blasts. This would all be over soon enough, then a much-needed break back on Coruscant for the squadron to rest and refuel.

It would be good to be somewhere the Brotherhood couldn’t touch.

Revenant Squadron: Six: Dani Stellaris | Seven: Leon Gallo | Eight: Len Vert | Ten: Qellene Tyliame
Battlegroupd Andor: Zahara Myneto
Brotherhood of the Maw: Tu'teggacha | Isabella Pavan | Marlon Sularen | Stryka Remex​

 

[Marlon Sularen]

COPERO , CHISS SPACE
Onboard the Predator...
Objective - Protect the Shipyards from the Alliance.

---

---

Maw Irregular Fleet Predator [Agitator-Class] Patriot [Invincible-Class] Guardian [Invincible-Class] Behemoth [Supremacy-Class] Avenger [Supremacy-Class] Exactor [Supremacy-Class] Tyrant [Supremacy-Class] Torment [Pelleaon IV-Class] Defiance [Pelleaon IV-Class] Judgement [Pelleaon IV-Class] Retribution [Pelleaon IV-Class] 1,920/1,920 SRAFs 840/840 TIE/fd Fighters 408/408 TIE/fd Interceptors 40/40 FD-120 Starfortresses

Crimson Linings 1/1 TIE/O Omicron Prototype [Piloted by Marlon Sularen ] 24/24 TIE/Enforcers 72/72 TIE/fd Interceptors [On Route to the Shipyards]

The Battle for the Copero Shipyards raged on as the Mawite Fleet moved forth to engage Battlegroup Andor while Revenant Squadron continued to Bombard the Copero Shipyards. Under the current circumstances , the Alliance would be able to fully scuttle the Shipyards before the Mawite Fleet could even punch through the lines of Battlegroup Andor. However while they had inflicted considerable damage to the Copero Shipyards , the Alliance would not scuttle them. Not under Sularen's Watch.

As Revenant Squadron continued to ravage the Shipyards , a Single TIE emerged from Hyperspace. It was Sularen's Personal Starfighter , the TIE Omicron Prototype. Soon enough , the Crimson Linings comprised of 2 Dozen TIE Enforcers followed suit emerging from hyperspace right behind the Grand Overseer's Fighter. As Sularen and the Crimson Linings accelerated towards the Copero Shipyards , a huge portion of the Maw Irregular Fleet emerged from Hyperspace right behind them at the Starboard Flank of Battlegroup Andor where the Two Flagships of the Terror Squadron had concentrated their Interdiction Fields allowing the MIF to pull off a Thrawn Pincer and arrive at Copero precisely at the Starboard Flank of Battlegroup Andor.

"Vice-Admiral Hamilton , have your Fleet pin down Battlegroup Andor and prevent them from intercepting the Crimson Linings. Also have an Fighter Wing comprised of only Interceptors from one of your Star Destroyers to support us while we engage Alliance forces trying to scuttle the Shipyards." Sularen ordered to his subordinate Kaine Hamilton who had been given command over the Maw Irregular Fleet. Then Sularen shifted his focus on the Crimson Linings. "Alright Crimson Linings , let's show the Alliance Bastards whose Boss. Pick your Targets and make sure you destroy every single Alliance Starfighter harming the Shipyards. The Maw Irregular Fleet should keep their Forces busy enough to ensure that we can sweep up this nuisance."

As a Group of Alliance B-Wings destroyed an Incomplete Cruiser , Sularen moved forth to lock on to the Lead Starfighter (Piloted by Tren Chaar) and proceeded to roll his Starfighter proceeding to move forth to intercept Tren Chaar and his accompanying B-Wings , backed by 4 Wingmen. "Stay on my Wing" Sularen ordered to his Wingmen as he proceeded to close in on Tren Chaar's B-Wing before unleashing a Volley of Green Bolts of Plasma from his Heavy Laser Canons upon the Enemy B-Wing and other B-Wings with his Wingmen following suit all with the intent of destroying the Starfighters that sought to deny the Maw of it's Greatest Prize in Chiss Space.

Meanwhile , the rest of the TIE/Enforcers proceeded to split up into smaller groups moving forth to engage the rest of Revenant Squadron with a trio of TIE Enforcers moving forth to pursue an A-Wing (Piloted by Qellene Tyliame) which had just destroyed the Main Hangar of the Shipyard. With another group of 6 Dozen TIE/fd Interceptors already onroute towards the Shipyards to reinforce the Crimson Linings it was only a matter of time before the Alliance Starfighters attacking the Shipyards would be dispersed

---

---

"Vice-Admiral Hamilton , have your Fleet pin down Battlegroup Andor and prevent them from intercepting the Crimson Linings. Also have an Fighter Wing comprised of only Interceptors from one of your Star Destroyers to support us while we engage Alliance forces trying to scuttle the Shipyards."

"Yes , Grand Overseer" Vice-Admiral Hamilton said in response before Sularen ended the transmission with the Predator. While Grand Overseer Sularen and the Crimson Linings moved forth to engage the Alliance Starfighter Squadron bombarding the Copero Shipyards , the Maw Irregular Fleet had moved forth to engage Battlegroup Andor. While Sularen had not brought the entirety of the Maw Irregular , the Fleet brought here today was enough to keep Battlegroup Andor and it's Starfighters pinned down long enough for the Crimson Linings to complete their objective in annihilating the Starfighter Squadron bombarding the Shipyards.

"Move to engage Battlegroup Andor. I want all Ships to open fire on the nearest Alliance Vessels at Maximum Firepower. Have the ?? deploy it's compliment of TIE Interceptors to reinforce the Grand Overseer and the Crimson Linings and have all other Fighter Squadrons deployed in order to engage any Starfighters and Bombers the Alliance sends against us." The Vice-Admiral ordered. Since his defeat at Cormit , the Vice-Admiral had been assigned to minor irrelevant tasks but now was the perfect opportunity to redeem himself by Leading the Maw Irregular Fleet against Battlegroup Andor and ensuring that the Alliance regretted ever interfering with the Maw's Plans here at Copero.

Thus the Maw Irregular Fleet moved forth to engage Battlegroup Andor , carrying out the orders issued by the Vice-Admiral. Today victory would be theirs , and the Maw would be one step closer to it's inevitable victory over the Galactic Alliance.

Spoiler: TLDR

• Sularen onboard his Personal TIE Fighter returns to Copero with the Crimson Linings and the MIF
• Sularen and the Crimson Linings move forth to engage Revenant Squadron
  • Sularen backed by 4 Wingmen begin attacking Tren Chaar and his Group of B-Wing
  • A Trio of TIE/Enforcers move forth to pursue Qellene Tyliame's A-Wing
  • The Remainder of the Crimson Linings move forth to seek other Targets
• The Maw Irregular Fleet begins pinning down Battlegroup Andor by attacking it's Starboard Flank
• Fighters and Bombers are also deployed from all Vessels of the Maw Irregular Fleet to prevent Battlegroup Andor from reinforcing Revenant Squadron

Tags [BotM/FD] | Tu'teggacha | Stryka Remex | Isabella Pavan
Tags [GA] | Tren Chaar | Qellene Tyliame | Zahara Myneto ​

 

[Leon Gallo]

Revenant Seven
Shields: Full
Stealth Systems: Engaged
Engaging: Marlon Sularen
Revenant Squadron: Tren Chaar Qellene Tyliame​

Leon felt the approaching danger before it arrived. Felt the arrival of a retributory force before his scanners. When the instruments finally caught up with the Force, Revenant Seven was already in motion. The craft began turning for another attack run. A flick of a switch activated the ship's comms. Though everyone could hear the warning, it was directed towards Revenant Leader.

<"Sir, enemy fighters approaching.">

A moment passed before the pilot spoke again.

<"Requesting permission to engage, sir.">

The X-wing was operating toward the "top" of the shipyard, dismantling it volley by volley. From here, he could easily see and detect the approaching enemy. The Revenants were outnumbered. The enemy was approaching too rapidly for Leon to complete a fifth pass of the tower he was destroying before they were upon them.

Too late to bother asking for permission.

The Saber-class's stealth systems kicked on as Leon prepared to fight. Outnumbered and likely outgunned, the Revenants would need every advantage they could get. The pilot circled, searching for an opportunity, reaching out in the Force for a target. He found one. With a deep breath, the nose of the X-wing rose slightly, then shot down as the ship entered a sudden and steep dive.

One hand moved almost imperceptibly on the control stick as Seven adjusted his descent. Five hundred meters and closing. Four B-wings came into view, nearly causing the pilot to hesitate. But the dive continued and the true prey came into view. A crimson TIE. The ship appeared to be targeting First Flight. Aiming slightly ahead of the TIE, Leon squeezed down two triggers.

Two bursts, almost indistinguishable, flared forward. The leading shots came from the craft's ion cannons, the following from the blasters. Leon's preferred burst fire technique. The pilot wasn't expecting to hit, nor to do much damage. The goal was to disrupt his opponent's aim. Moments later, the X-wing itself rocketed past. It slowed dramatically as it's pilot changed direction. In a heartbeat, the ship was facing back in the direction it'd just came.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Raid and Reunite
Tags: The Mongrel | Ishani Dinn
Links: Weapons​

Mongrel and Arlo fought, with words and blades. Though the words Zachariel heard, he agreed with the Mongrel. The Force was a crutch, and only weaklings relied on it. Using it didn't imply weakness, but overusing it did. And someone specifically labeled for their power in the Force was weaker than the rest. There was no glory to be had at range, only close in bloodshed would satisfy. Which is why he was glad Ishani chose to close the distance, and he met her.

Advancing on her, he spoke and she replied. What she said was certainly interesting, a foe who fed on their own pain? Perhaps unsatisfying to fight, but certainly to torture. If such a foe enjoyed taking pain, then Zachariel's joy of inflicting it would fit well. No doubt such a combination would elevate both to heights unseen, before they attempted to kill one another. Or perhaps it would be a pairing that would bring more destruction to the galaxy. Of course, Zachariel was getting ahead of himself. He didn't know this unknown, nor did he know if they would be able to work together.

Shaking his head free of such thoughts, Zachariel focused on Ishani as he attacked. As he swung his axe, it only struck air, cutting through nothing as she leapt out of the way. Snarling as she ended up behind him, Zachariel spun with her and stepped back. She leapt at him, trying to clamber onto his back and bury her blades into him. Instead, Zachariel blocked the blades with his axe as gravity took hold. Laughing, he pushed the axe down, attempting to pin Ishani towards the ground with her own weapons.
"How futile." His laughter echoed louder as his grip tightened and his signature in the Force flared, darkening the area just that bit further.

 

[Qellene Tyliame]

[Flight Officer Qellene Tyliame]
[Revenant Squadron -- Callsign: "Revenant Ten"]
[REC-AI01 A-wing Interceptor]
[Copero - Orbit]

---

“Circle back and rally near the reactor.”

"[Copy.]" Qellene nodded a few times even after she cut her signal, almost absent-mindedly as the rest of the mission's stress stole her concentration away.

Ping... Ping... Something new clung to her mind-- the scanners, showing something coming in close. Qellene eyed the displays suspiciously, confused first as only a single TIE appeared and rocketed for the shipyards. But the confusion lasted no longer than a moment; the flight officer spun quickly to face the prelude to a larger assault.

She had only a little time to spare before they started emerging in greater numbers. The Brotherhood's dreaded TIE Enforcers. Two squadrons of them followed closely by their leader's flanks and before long split to engage their own unlucky targets. Qellene, as she feared, found herself among the unlucky; caught nearly alone on another side of the derelict shipyard.

<"Requesting permission to engage, sir.">

As if they needed permission not to get themselves shot to bits. Qellene chuckled a bit, then swallowed the sarcasm in one uncomfortable gulp. And now that all was out of her system, she spun, and dove into a gap in the shipyard's structure. Support beams flew by in blurs, faster with each second as the nimble A-wing weaved through two planes of durasteel and emerged once more from the shipyard's superstructure. Her breathing, in time, slowed to match the slow spin of the craft. While the green digits arranged on her dashboard only went quicker, as the three TIE Enforcers that had set their eyes on her broke from the thin metal lined chasm.

She took her few pot-shots and ran toward the safety of another bustling trench, all the while repeating expletives to herself.

"[Three on my tail,]" Qellene opened the comms, distracted as she glanced back and forth between her aft camera feed and the droves of contacts appearing on the Plan Position Indicators, "[Gonna have to hold off on that rendezvous for a while.]"

Her teeth gritted. Battlegroup Andor was now reporting another Maw fleet emerging off its starboard flank, and yet another herd of TIE fighters being led toward Revenant Squadron's vulnerable position. Overkill. The dull ends of her teeth found the chapped roof of her lower lip in virulence. Her face turned suddenly dark, hiding a sharp scowl from a nonexistent onlooker as the A-wing pilot barreled underneath an abandoned crane superstructure, the bright green bursts of three enraged TIE Enforcers trailing her thin silhouette. They missed for now, but Qellene wasn't one to get cocky and let such optimism blind her. And in time, she began to pick up on a pattern in the dance of light and metal.

The Brotherhood's cannons were growing closer...

---

Marlon Sularen (Bring. It. On.), Tren Chaar , Leon Gallo

 

[Lyssa Io]

"What the hell is she?" one of the Chiss Warriors watching a security feed of Lyssa savagely butchering Maw warriors asked a Model 1 nearby as the small detail of Sky-Walkers (about twenty eight) they were guarding were prepped for extraction.

"The future." Lyssa's brother answered. "Living Nanotech."

"That...that design is beyond anything even our best scientists were researching when Csilla was destroyed..." the Chiss guard admitted. "And even if they were researching such a thing, it likely hadn't even left the concept phase..."

The situation was utterly grim. The Maw had been delayed heroically by the defenders, but they were slowly but surely overtaking the whole area. Even Lyssa's slaughter could only buy so much more time.

And now they had another problem...

A hidden security camera had caught Djorn Bline killing one of their men. They had been installed throughout the complex to get an early warning for precisely the kind of thing Bline was attempting.

"Who the hell is that? He isn't Maw..." the guard remarked.

"NIO..." The Model 1 remarked. "They obviously have their own ideas about what's in the best interest of the Chiss. Still wanna run into their arms?"

"Hell no..." the Chiss Guard snapped, immediately ordering one of his men to run as fast as he could and warn the other guards and Sky-Walkers they were protecting in the most heavily guarded areas to try and warn them about him and shoot on sight if they could. A Model 1 would have been dispatched but they simply could not afford the loss of further personnel at such a critical moment of their own extraction, since their communications were now compromised by Djorn.

"Sister..." he called out on his comlink. It's time to go..."

Lyssa , having butchered yet another Maw Warrior, heard the transmission. "On the way..." she replied, the holes from the shotgun blasts still not fully repaired yet, having retrieved a lever action shotgun from one of the dead Maw Warriors. She broke into a run, the Model 1's that had accompanied her using the Maw's own det charges and grenades against them by setting them under corpses or on walls to cover the route behind them.

The Chiss Warrior and others had managed to retrieve only a few more Sky-Walkers, leading the total number to 35.

"If we hurry, we can reach the hangar--" The Chiss began to say.

"Too long a route." Lyssa said, the wounds sealing up a little bit more, due to her Nanites having fed off raw materials around her. "They'll expect it. We're gonna blast a wall open and come in there."

"In what?" another Chiss asked.

"An Assassin Class Corvette." Lyssa answered. "Come with me if you want to live."

The large group of warriors and gifted children began following Lyssa and her brothers. Their group was only a small fraction of what remained in the academy...they couldn't take everyone. But it was better than nothing.

Lyssa heard the distinct sound of a Model 1's self destruct device going off everywhere, strategically cutting off certain access points and killing any Maw around them. Other heavily damaged Model 1's crawled to their victims, spending their last remaining moments of functionality killing their foes before also detonating.

Lyssa fired a shotgun blast into a Final Dawn Sith as he burst through a nearby wall, but he stopped the pellets with telekinesis flinging the pellets into her head, bursting it open to reveal silver, mercury like liquid. She charged, and he tried to stop her with Telekinesis but her Nanites resisted the effects, though she struggled to reach him.

The Sith grew alarmed, having not faced anything like her before in his life. There were no bones to break, nor organs to crush. It's mind could not be invaded.

He began hurling debris at them all, determined to stop her, or, failing that, kill those she tried to lead to safety in order to spite her.

The Model 1's stood in front of the hurled debris, letting it smash into them, firing almost all their weapons, both issued and onboard at him at once in retaliation, Lyssa getting ever closer. He was able to stop most of the Model 1 projectiles but had no answer for their cryo lasers and was struck in the chest by them, followed by hits from their sonic Disruptors.

He was in pure agony as the disruptor and laser shots hit, not killing him instantly the way most Disruptors did, instead turning the parts of his flesh and armor that were hit into ash. His concentration broke, and Lyssa reached him.

She turned to the Chiss Warriors.

"Look away, children." one of the Chiss Adults said. "And cover your ears."

They mercifully neither heard nor saw what Lyssa did to the Sith attacker. They only knew it lasted fifteen grueling seconds and then they were being ushered away from the scene. The Chiss adults having slightly paled at what they had just scene, while the Model 1's were chuckling about it and debating how much XP her killing blows were worth, while waiting for further surprises.

She signalled everyone to stop, placed stolen det charges on a wall and then signalled via com link to the evac ship in orbit.

The black Assassin Class Corvette raced down from orbit, having done it's best to stay out of range, it's Model 1 pilot cleverly flying its way through intense barrages, and even shooting down a few star fighters on the way to the surface...

"Stand back, everyone..." Lyssa warned, as soon as she got two beeps on the comm link telling her it was rapidly inbound.

Lyssa suddenly heard panicked shouting, fleeing Chiss staff running, getting gunned down by Maw Troopers attempting to rapidly close on their position.

Lyssa tossed the Detonator to her brothers and ran to engage the Maw warriors, who gunned down yet more of the staff before she reached them.

The screaming savages had no answer for the Nanite Woman when she set herself upon them, emptying her shotgun into the faces of four before it was gone, getting peppered by blasters all the while, her hands formed claws at the end, savagely slashing into the hoard.

The Model 1 units, about five remaining from the interior assault, blasted the wall open, timing it just sat the Corvette got in range of the compound, firing it's weapons at attacking Maw units nearby to create a somewhat safe fire zone for evac, even though it was still under fire. The Nuetralizers liked this sort of craft, and had been experimenting with it more and more. Up it's armament, and you had a nasty little VIP transport/warship.

It was still under heavy fire though and they had to run to it about forty meters away,

The next few moments were a bunch of guards and children yelling as they ran, The Model 1's providing cover fire as they advanced, aides by the presence of Model 3 units aboard the Corvette filing out and using Z-6 cannons and grenade launchers for suppressing efforts, backed by a Squadron of Nuetralizer TIE units that rained laser cannon fire on enemy units firing at the Corvette buying precious seconds for the children to run. Many of the Chiss Guards gave their lives to prevent the children from being hit. Of the twenty five Chiss Guardsman, sworn to defend the children with their lives, only fifteen reached the Corvette with the rest of the Children, filing aboard in a panic.

"Hey! What about the killer Nanite Lady?" the Chiss that had been successfully persuaded by Lyssa asked.

"She's coming...look!" A Model 1 replied as Lyssa came running out, using a stolen set of red Lightsabers to deflect blaster fire, Multiple holes in her torso, half her head blasted off, leading a bunch of injured, frightened Chiss staff to safety, along with one more Sky-Walker child.

"WHATCHOO GOT, SCHUTTAS! WHATCHOO GOT???!! AHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHA!" a Model 3 cackled, as it unloaded on enemy forces.

They finally reached it and a signal was transmitted to the Nuetralizer TIE's to increase their ground attacks while everybody pulled back into the ship. It finally, mercifully closed up because one engine had taken severe damage already.

Without even waiting to seat everyone, the Corvette rose and took off, being relentlessly fired on and pursued by enemy starfighters, only to find themselves being thoroughly harassed by the Corvette's own fighter escort as the Corvette climbed.

Lyssa looked into the faces of the wounded and fearful, noting with interest how everyone instinctively got away from her, especially the children.

The Corvette, after taking a few more hits, cleared the atmosphere, enemy fighters now massing in a fanatical attempt to prevent their escape by any means. Some enemy fighters even tried ramming the Corvette, only to get shot down by the Corvette's own defenses or by the TIE's that had figured out what was being attempted at the last second.

Either way, the old lives of these children as well as their protectors were officially over.

The Corvette rocketed off into Hyperspace, the surviving 007 TIE's following...

 

[Raxtos]

Seize The Shipyards
SURVIVE THE SHIPYARDS
Also about to die: Darth Strosius
​

There was a panicked whistle from the rear of the shuttle. From the open side door, DD-4 could see Alisteri; he'd nearly reached the stolen craft. Sitting in the shuttle cockpit, Raxtos power-cycled the Chiss ship's repulsorlifts. A deep thrumming filled the ship as it began to gently lift from the manufacturing floor. Only moderately confident he knew what he was doing, the young thief hastily flipped switches and watched small screens all around his head. "Tethers free, clamps free. Hyperdrive online, Navcomputer online. Is he onboard yet, Deet?"

An exasperated whistle.

"Is he onboard yet?

An annoyed shriek.

A blinking monitor showed the progression of the space station's destruction, and how close they all were to being shot into the vacuum of space. If the shipyard's life support or hull were compromised, it wouldn't matter how much was left for the Maw to salvage; it'd be curtains for every organic onboard. Rax shut his eyes close. Run faster, Haxim.

DD-4 screamed.

Slamming the side door controller to closed, Rax gunned the engines. The sleek craft shot to the end of the shipyards as explosions bloomed around it, tossing its trajectory about wildly. Fighting the steering with everything he had, Rax breathed a sigh of relief the moment he was clear of the huge space station. They'd made it.

Straight into an enormous dogfight.

Nimble interceptors burst into sight, disappearing just as quickly. Heavy fighters roared through blaster fire, as a single bright-red TIE variant spun amongst the chaos like a leaf in a storm. Flying with all the skill a rusty civilian pilot could muster, Raxtos only hoped the Commando C-11 was tough enough to survive the next 5 minutes. All the while, a question distracted him with quiet murmurs.

Had DD-4 screamed because Haxim had made it in time? Or had Rax left his new friend to die?

Afraid to know the answer, he called back in a strained voice as he nearly avoided collision with a gutsy Sabre-Class. "Alisteri? You alive?"

NEW FRIENDS!
Qellene Tyliame Marlon Sularen Leon Gallo Tren Chaar ​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Location: Copero Shipyards
Objective: SURVIVE
Tags: Raxtos
-----------------------------------------------

The station rocked with explosions and the subsequent venting of atmosphere here and there wherever breaches were made. Alarms blared and sirens wailed as he made his way down the hall as quick as he could. Vaulting over furniture, ducking under low hanging debris, sliding through doors, all to get back in time to get off of the station before an unlucky shot destroyed the station or sent him careening out into space.

Alisteri was never known to be the fastest Acolyte, even with his enhanced speed. He was faster than most regular soldiers though, and that was good enough. Or well, it would have to be because his life depended on it. This moment was the one where it was really put to the test just how fast he was, and he wasn't as lacking as he had originally thought. He could practically hear the adrenaline pumping as his feet impacted the floor of the hangar and propelled him forward with each step, and soon his escape was in sight.

He even saw one of Raxtos's droids peeking out of the ship's open door and staring at him.

There was no point in dawdling or slowing as he neared the craft though, not with how violently the whole station was shaking at this point. With little fanfare or hesitation he leapt through the opening and landed hard against the floor of the vessel, the annoyed shriek of the droid covering up the sound of his impact.

"My apologies." He muttered halfheartedly as the door slid closed and the ship rocketed out of the station. Clutching onto whatever he could for support, he stayed where he was as they made their way into the chaotic battle around them.

A sigh of relief left him as he hauled himself to his feet and stepped towards the cockpit. The quick maneuver to avoid a crash caused him to grip the back of a seat to stay standing, but he continued on and offered a laugh at the question. "Of course. Just focus on getting us out of here before we get blown up in here instead of the station."