Exodus Crash | CIS Invasion of UCM's Eshan Hex

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Entering Palace through sewers
Allies: The Confederacy of Independent Systems + Allies
Enemies: ME
Wearing: Armor | Leather Pants | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: [member=Cay-Yo] | [member="Tathra Khaeus"] | [member="Spencer Jacobs"] | [member="Srina Talon"]

​

Madalena tried to make herself comfortable on the throne. Truth be told, despite her very empowering and self-confident speech, this whole throne thing was seeming slightly… Uncomfortable? How was one supposed to be comfortable on this thing and sit on it for hours? Was it something especially designed for actual royal butts? Were new Kings and Queens permitted to make alterations? This throne could definitely do with a cushion or something. Were throne cushions available in pink?

She hoped the actual Queen of Eshan would be able to arrive soon. There were fights happening outside. The noise traveled all the way over the lake and into this very throne room, alongside the noise of and vibrations of things happening above them. It was almost like a wild amusement park ride, but one that had a better probability of you ending up dead.

But what was there that she could do? To evacuate herself (and Cay-Yo. And Lancelot) wasn't an option, not when she had to hold the fort down. She could get out there and fight the worm, sure, but what were her odds of surviving that? Even with Big Cay-Yo on her side, unless she could magically come up with a weakness the worms had that she could exploit, that didn't seem like an overly good thing to try either.

"Cay-Yo, Lancelot, to me," she said, her hands gripping the throne. If they were closer and things got really bad, she would be able to throw her barrier over the three of them. Would that be enough?

Trying to force her mind to calm down, Madalena began to focus on the details around her. Considering the rumble and noise coming from outside, the Sithling found herself admitting that the throne room was… Okay?

Sure, it didn't look pristine anymore. There were cracks here and there in the wall, though a close inspection showed that it was only the paint and the coverings that were bad while whatever it was that lay underneath was fine. "Shouldn't we be squished by now?" she asked out loud, still looking over at everything.

And then the big bada-boom happened.

Something had fallen on them.

Madalena was a Warrior. Warriors did not scream when they were scared or surprised. They were tough, they were made of strong stuff, they were the best there was – and they, or in this case, she, gave a little yelp as she jumped in the throne. The sound of the worm falling (though she had no idea that it was the worm itself) along with most of the place (though she had no idea it was most of the palace) was noisy and scary business. Business that you could not make go away by putting the pointy end of your sword in. Her heart was racing so fast and so hard that she was sure it could be heard within several miles worth of a radius.

But the throne room was still standing. A bit dusty, a bit more cracked, but still standing. And while the noise of worm and Palace falling began to subside, another sound began to take over – silence. Complete and utter silence. She couldn't even hear the noise of the war and battles from outside anymore.

Only now did she rise from the throne, and walked herself to the door. It wouldn't budge open, and neither would the few windows that were in the room.

Clicking her commdevice again, Madalena coughed. "So this is the Pathfinder again. The Throne room is intact, myself and the Gizka Knight are alive and well. We're all still standing. But I think the rest of the palace fell on top of the throne room and please Force let this room be sufficiently be reinforced like a shelter bomb sort of a thing or we're gonna be squashed later'ish. Don't suppose anyone's got a rescue team that can come dig a way in or out?"

Madalena swallowed hard. They needed diggers. And after the last few hours spent on Eshan and all the things she had done and experienced there, she wasn't enough of a fool to think she could Force Punch he and Cay-Yo's way out.

 

[Shia Kryze]

​

Location: Eshan City, crashed SD
Allies: CIS
Enemies: [member="Darth Banshee"]
Equipment:

Spoiler

• Prudii'hecr - Shadow Owl (shoulder mounts w/ micro-rocket launchers)
• Old One Eye
• Darksaber
• Blade of the Ancestors Blood
• DT-29 heavy plaster pistols (2)
• MM-27 Rhyno Heavy Pistol
• VT-LRS Rifle
• LK Sweeper
• Forcebreaker Grenades
• Thermal Detonators

Units:

Spoiler

• The Strix - Lightly Damaged (90%)
• The Raven Owls - Undamaged (100%)
• Shrike Owls - Damaged (70%)
• The Fire Owls - Moderately Damaged (60%)

---

Communication was proving difficult, with commlinks suffering from the radiation of the crashed Star Destroyer and the sheer noise of the droids weaponry. The vast majority of Mandalorians were helmed and had integral hearing protection, but that didn't make it any easier to shout to someone, or to hear surprises coming.

For the moment at least, this was a line fight. Mandalorians were falling back in good order from the front lines as they were damaged or wounded, here and there one would fall under sheer weight of numbers, but the Shrike's were confident that despite their moderate losses, they were containing the droids and pushing forward to a breakthrough.

Shia was entirely unaffected by the noise - a happy side effect of her armours anti-sonic properties, she could barely even feel the thunderous noises beyond her little world.

"Ravens, engage, focus fire on that guard force that is moving forward. Fire'alor - hold back and wait until a breakthrough happens, then hammer any heavy units they have in reserve."

"Alor? What about their air support?"

"We'll take the hits, they don't have much left and they'll need it to escort them off-world."

The now comfortably hidden and well positioned forces of the Raven Owls obeyed their orders, opening fire with verpine sniper rifles all across the line, aiming for the human forces to the rear of the droids. Given the silent nature of the shattergun and the overwhelming noise of the conflict, the first sign anyone would have of their fire was when the rounds began to impact.

Behind the Mandalorian lines, the remaining heavy bes'uliik made haste to form a central reserve, their towering forms visible even over the height of the engaged Mandalorian cavalry, but they held their fire - marshalling their reserves for a potential breakthrough.

Around Shia, the Stryx closed in - the most lethal fighters Kryze had to offer, few in number but not in battlefield force.

"They're not leaving, alor." Her second said, ducking under a droid and blasting it in the chest at point blank range, even as Shia unloaded a shotgun into the head of another. "Waiting for their friends at the tower, you think?"

"Maybe, just focus on bringing these droids down."

"Wish we could hit those transports." Her second sounded almost amused.

"Noted. I'll deal with it." By which, Shia meant she'd speak to Gil and have him come up with something for Kryze.

Around them, the battle continued to rage, the point of decision not yet reached.

 

[Mig Gred]

Location: Eshan Valleys
Objective: Defend Eshan from the CIS Invasion in the valleys.
Equipment: Light Mandalorian Armor, Lightsaber Trayc'kad, Trayc'kal
Allies: M.E., Sanya Val Lerium Allya Vi'Dreya ?
Opponents: CIS, Celiana , Kat Decoria, Tathra Khaeus Allya Vi'Dreya ?

[media]https://youtu.be/JGCsyshUU-A[/media]
Mig gave Kad a shocked look as she handed him an Echani Vibrosword. One that was her brothers. She gave her own words on it, which Mig agreed with. Her brother shouldn't have died that day. She also reminded him of something Mandalorians knew all to well. A title doesn't make one a leader. Probably why Mandalorians had a way to take leadership. To challenge the Mand'alor for the title. Mig still trusted Yasha though. Plus he was barely Alor material, let alone Mand'alor. She also gave him an option if he ever felt things wouldn't change. To find her, and they could find a way without the CIS or the clans. He simply gave her a nod, quickly speaking up as she left.

"And if you ever need help, me and my clan will be more than willing to provide it." He clipped the vibrosword to his belt as she left, turning to Ilik. "We need to start rounding everyone up. The battle's done." The medic nodded, quickly calling out on comms as Mig placed his helmet on his head, and sent out a call to all Mandalorians. "This is Alor Gred, we need a ride out of here." And with that, the Gred forces not being used by others began to leave Eshan. Oddly enough, it wasn't as hard of place for Mig to thing on now. He was almost... at peace with what happened to Ordan, though it still pained him to look at what had happened to the world. Ilik looked at the younger man, patting him on the back.

"Mig, we did what we could. You've already blamed yourself for Ordan. Don't blame yourself for this." Mig looked over at Ilik, nodding.

"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like the sight."

(And with that, I'm finished with the invasion. Been fun.)

 

[Malok]

Location: The Capital, Eshan -> Rendezvous w/ Palace Bridge Team
Accompanying: [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Adron Malvern"], [member="Spencer Jacobs"]
Tag: [member="Kaine Australis"]

Spoiler: Loadout

Riding: Cin Bes'uliik

• CZ-839 Sonic Carbine (Stowed)
• 55A "All Fate" Disruptor Rifle (Stowed)

Wearing:

• Reforged-Beskar'gam
  Gauntlet of Hod Haran (Right)
• Echoy'lii Shukorok (Left)
• Baroness APG (Rigged: Shoulder Mounted)
• Ri Qorit Disabler
• Paragon-class Personal Energy Shield

[*]Second Lightsabre
[*]Sonic Grenades
[*]Yrkaa Sidearm
[*]Ha'rangir (Tomahawk)
[*]Nullified Parcel

Spencer Jacobs was living proof.

There was a moment...when the alabaster apprentice whose soul had become intertwined with the Sith's quivered with doubt. It was a finite, fleeting second following the most traumatic experience of her life. As a faithful child of Eshan, [member="Srina Talon"] was no stranger to the fury of combat. She had fought since she was old enough to carry a blade - and in light of this, it was not the battle itself which planted the seed within her heart. No. It was the capital ships which tore upon the metropolis known as Coruscant. It was the way their mammoth forms broke apart every semblance of civilization as they rose from underneath the surface. It was the way her lungs were caked with ash for days following the fall of the Galactic Alliance. It was...the way those who called themselves Sith made war. In light of this day, Srina had a second of doubting what her Master would call her to do. He made promise after promise that he would never require of her what the traditions of yore demanded.

He swore that she would never, ever, need to raise her blade against him to prove herself a Sith.

From what little she knew of the Sith culture, this nugget latched onto her mind. And Darth Metus did his absolute best to dispel it. Yet, as the Queen of Eshan looked upon her former pupil, there was now living, breathing proof that what he said to her was absolutely true. For as fallen as the Sith was, there was never a moment where he would raise a hand against the woman who had mentored him many years ago. Her Majesty was but one of three people who had cultivated his walk alongside the Force - and there was none among his tutors who he would ever raise a hand to destroy. Quite the contrary, in fact. He would gladly move heaven and earth if it meant championing their causes or saving them from harm. For that reason, liberating Eshan came naturally to Darth Metus. For not only was it the home of one he loved dearly - it was the home of his Master.

And he would gladly break and bleed to defend it.

Yet no mentor would ever stand to see their student broken before their eyes. And as the Sith extended his helm so that she could address her people, the bond they shared shone brighter than ever before. Her touch was grace. Her words...he would cling to them until the day death finally bested him for the last time. She addressed him by the name she knew - by the name he desperately attempted to leave behind time after time. But it was okay. For she knew him. The whole him. I admired that about you. With both did. he knew about whom she was speaking. And for but a moment, his head lowered in respect at the thought of that woman. She who made the heavens themselves tremble at her presence. Yet he found his head lifted by touch of her lips upon his own. The rush of energy which invaded his being at the moment of their connection saw the most grievous of his injuries laid to waste.

When she stepped back and began to address her people with the voice of a Queen, the Vicelord was strong enough to keep up the fight. Focus burned within his sulfuric eyes as he pressed the assault. His beast marched forward alongside the cadre of droids, with a portion tarrying to ensure the continued protection of Her Majesty and the woman who was most precious to him. Darth Metus set his fury upon one of the Bral and decimated it in tandem with the assault of his automated companions. All the while, Her Majesty erupted in the Force - shining as a beacon for her people to see. They would bear witness to the fact that their Queen lived and that a pretender now profaned her throne. Who could praise the name Manu in the face of their monarch? Who could side with the Mandalorian subjugators or turn a blind eye to the wanton destruction when their regent demanded they remember who they were?

For but a moment, such thoughts colored the Sith's mind as his assault continued against the enemies which laid before. But for the enemies which were less obvious to the naked eyes, sensors were the tool of choice. A beast of the enemy drew its blade in the hopes of stealing glory, but automation moved far swifter than organic. By the time the sleuthy beast made its move, its blade would be impedded in a body of durasteel. It would have the glory which came from felling a BX Commando which had sprang forth to give the Exarch time enough to save herself. Now it was no more than a hunk of durasteel in the enemy's way - but hopefully it was enough for Tatooine not to repeat itself.

 

[Kiff Brayde]

OBJECTIVE: Destroy that big fricken battlecruiser
SHIP: The Benevolent Pride, an Adjudicator-class Star Destroyer
ALLIES: [member="Derek Dib"] | [member="John Locke"]
ENEMIES: [member="Quoron Cadera"]

"Looks like that Battlecruiser is trying to run from our superior tactics. Let's see who's faster, eh?"

The Indomitable-class Battlecruiser had rather smartly lurched forward just in time to save itself from being rammed by the Valiant I and Valiant II Star Destroyers. It was close, though; one of the Star Destroyers had scraped the battlecruiser's rear engines and although Kiff couldn't make out the damage, he had noticed that the speed of the battlecruiser had slown down. Plus, the size of the battlecruiser and the momentum that required to get it moving required a lot of energy, and the fact that the Benevolent Pride had already been moving at its top speed meant that the little Star Destroyer had gotten a head start on the Indomitable, and it was in range that it had passed the careening Valiants and had been able to keep the battlecruiser within the range of the Benevolent Pride's guns.

"Captain, we've cleared the Valiant I and Valiant II Star Destroyers and the Indomitable is still in range. All of our batteries are ready to fire," Veryk stated as he walked up next to Kiff, a datapad he'd retrieved from the gunnery pit in hand. He handed the holographic pad to Kiff, who briefly scanned it over before handing it back.

"Instruct the gunnery to focus all of their fire on the battlecruiser's engines. If we are succesful, we may be able to cut off their retreat and leave them as a target for our bigger ships." It wasn't a brilliant plan, really, but if the crew of the Benevolent Pride worked fast enough, they would be able to land the Confederacy Navy a nice juicy prize and in all likeliness, bragging rights for Brayde. But future medals were not what was on Kiff's mind. Right now, he needed to focus on making all the right moves to put his prize perfectly in place, and that began with a look towards Veryk as if he was saying, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Veryk nodded, taking the hint and immediately the order was relayed to gunnery command and to the batteries of the Benevolent Pride, all wrapped up in a nice package of utmost urgency. The crews went to work, figuring the calculations into targeting computers and warming up the massive turbolaser batteries of the Star Destroyers. It all happened in the span of a minute, and by the time that Kiff had turned back from the crew pits to the viewports of the Star Destroyer's bridge, turbolaser fire was already echoing from the batteries of the Benevolent Pride and they were nearly all hitting there mark. The massive engines of the battlecruiser were not a small target, and Kiff's men were trained to the point of perfection.

It wouldn't be long before the shields of the Indomitable were fully depleted: they were already extremely weakened and spread thin. It was only a matter of time before Captain Kiff Brayde had his catch. And boy oh boy could he not wait for when he caught it.

 

[Darth Banshee]

Objective: Survie
Allies: ME [member="Kaine Australis"]
Enemy:[member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Srina Talon"]
Equipment: LightSaber, Armour, Healing Amulet, Echani Shield
Ship: H.M.S. Carrnia

Spoiler

1x Noctule squadron on the ground to possibly evacuate the queen
7x Noctule 2 squadron damage or destroyed (in space)
1x Pipistrelle holding position
4x Pipistrelle no torpedoes 7 squadrons destroyed
1x company of palace guard at 50% strength
1000x Droids left from the first wave 3540 scrapped
1 further waves of 1712 in next wave
3rd wave of 984

She was almost healed up, and now regaining her strength, it would not be long now before she was fully ready for battle again. The droids where doing their job, they where holding back the tide. Though their losses where mounting up, it was no big deal, the only big deal was her and her royal guard. They where still sniping away at the enemy, if one broke though they where shot at. The particle rifles where more than capable of penetrating, all but the most powerful armour. The line was holding for now, though it would not do for much longer, if reinforcements did not come soon. She had gotten what she wanted, and would not be dying here, as served no purpose. So if they did break through, she would run for it, like a bat out the neverworld, she be gone gone gone.

She could hear the din, the droids where making from inside the drop ship. The enemy must have a headache by now, she theorised. As she finally stood up, fully healed and combat ready. She made her way out, and looked at her on coming foe, they where fresh and numerous. Her line would not stop them, the question was could they hold it, once they broke through. The answer was no, they could not. She was not a fool, and was not into dying, as it is a painful experience she had to go through before. She gave her captain the order, If they break through in numbers we run. He nodded in agreement, and did the count.

The Palace [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"]
Her fighters did strafing run against the corvettes, and picked up some tail as they did. The dog fighting began, they pilots where good at their job. Though they where outnumbered, they could hold their own. The cloaking system where still offline, and permanently so. There would be no more retreating under cover, so the reloading option no longer available. They shot flares into the sky, to use the smoke to distract their opponents, as they weaved their way into an attack run. As they did all this twelve of them where shot from the skies, and where sent crashing into the city below. They went down in a blaze of glory, though they bailed before the fighters hit the deck, somewhere caught in the explosions that came up afterwards. The ones that survived, would try and find cover and shoot at the cis forces where they can. The rest began leveling up on one the corvettes, they wanted to break the view ports. As that way they could no longer, go into space and live.

Space
The droids where finally loaded, the ship sent them off again. Their cloaks failed, the stygium shields where overheating, due to overuse. They have to make this run without it, so it meant they would be seen coming. This was dangerous but necessary, as the queen needed reinforcements. They where heading stright for her, as atleast their they had only fighters available.

 

[Ayda Elisantra]

Location: At a field medical encampment headed by Valencia Hadley
Objective: Medical provider to all, including enemy wounded
Affiliation: Doctors Without Borders
Allies: CIS + Eshan
Equipment: AM-1 Ambulatory Corvette
Interacting with: NPC enemy wounded
Post: 5




There had been little time for proper intros or even a small tour of the workings of the medical camp at which Ayda and her surviving med team found themselves joining.

Ayda were able to get her patients unloaded from her remaining ambulance and into better accommodations which were basically cots in the medical recovery tents. At least they were no longer being tossed about in the ambulance trying to avoid getting hit by both friendly fire and that of whom were indiscriminately bombarding every possible ground target.

There were certainly a few non civilian and non-CIS patients that she had brought from their last encampment that Ayda had evacuated. Three had definitely been identified as being enemy wounded by the markings on their armor. But Ayda hadn't discriminated who she would care for or not. She were a doctor under an oath that superseded the color of one's flag by which they stood or fought under. To Ayda they were all her patients and no one had a tag on them, other than their statistics.

She had little time to check on the patients she had brought, making sure their statuses had not worsted, but progressed. She were checking over one such Mando whom in the CIS eyes were an enemy, one of the aggressors, when he suddenly opened his eyes and grabbed her arm. His grip were hard, despite he were half still sedated and weak from his wounds sustained, but nevertheless still got a good hold of her arm.
Ayda didn't pull away, nor call for help in restraining the man, just merely looked into his eyes.
The man seemed to know where he was, only not know on which side of the battle lines.

"You...you're in a field hospital.." Ayda struggled with her words as his grip ever so tightened on her arm, but she didn't fight him, didn't try pulling away.
His eyes then made out her scrubs..the emblem with the red cross on white. It were alien to him, but he seemed to recognize it as he loosed his grip somewhat. maybe he were failing, weakening. But his eyes showed otherwise. No, he were recovering and coming out of the anesthesia.

"We're on the ground..?" his raspy voice asked, giving her arm a slight shake as he wanted a fast reply.

"Yes...on the outskirt of the city. Please let go of me. I'm not going anywhere." Ayda replied.

But the man didn't let goof her arm, rather he tried to get his self back up on his feet.
Ayda placed her hand on his chest, over his heart.
"Calm down... you don't have any identifying marks on you ...you're safe here." She tried to relay to him.

"My beskar...where's my beskar?!" He demanded, still trying to get up on his feet.

"I don't know where it is...it were removed to attend your injuries. It and everything else were left behind in the evacuation, before the aerial bombardment took out our camp. I removed any markings on your person that would identify your clan, during the evacuation..." Ayda explained.

"You the medic who dressed my wounds?" he then asked, eyes looking about at all the other patients recovering from the war.

"Yes, I'm the doctor who treated you... your wounds were serious. You had died for a few minutes, before we could stabilize you. You're lucky to be alive." She replied, giving her hand a tug which was still in his grip.

"Lucky? There is no luck in war, only honor.
You're with the slavers then..." he more said it with accusation than a question.

"This is a medical camp...there are no slaves here...just volunteers....doctors, medics, interns, people who-" She were trying to explain when he cut her off again, giving her arm a momentary jolt to stop her from talking.

"Why you here? Why are you on their side?"

"I'm here on my own accord.
Now please...let go of me...you're hurting me." She replied.

The man looked over her small frame a moment, then released his grip altogether, dropping his hand to his side. He seemed defeated, like that of a captured game awaiting to be slaughtered.
"Why did you even waste your time on me. I should have died in battle...not-
...not in a death camp."

Ayda had remained by his side as she had said, rubbing her arm which now had his hand print on it. His eyes saw that and he lowered them a moment in what she could only construe as an apology. Ayda couldn't blame him, for he had been sedated and had just opened his eyes to find himself in what he considered enemy camp.
"This is no death camp..."
She then leaned closer to him to speak in a lower tone... " I haven't records...I haven't reported any enemy wounded.
Only patients."

"I'm a doctor sworn under the Hippocratic Oath. I am on no one's side but the side of life.
Now if you won't mind...lay there quietly and rest. I'll have an orderly bring you some food and drink..." She then reached for the i.v. which was nearly depleted and took the needle out of his arm.
"I would appreciate it if you don't treat those whom attend to you as you've treated your doctor.."

The man seemed to have realized that even if he managed to get on his feet, his weakened state would do little but have someone with a little more mass than Ayda knock him back down.
"What are you called?...what is your name?" he then asked.

"Doctor Ayda Elisantra...but you can call me just 'Doc'.
Please, don't hurt any of my staff...we're all here to treat the wounded equally...no matter who they may be."

"You have honor and virtues... I'll comply with what you ask of me." he then said, before his hand reached up to touch her arm.

"Thank you...Doctor." he then said, before closing his eyes to rest and recover.

Ayda then patted him on his shoulder and went on to her rounds. There were still many wounded coming in, but she had to first make sure the ones she had brought here were doing alright.

Perhaps when she were done with her rounds, [member="Valencia Hadley"] the doctor this encampment spoke about would return...

 

[Grosck Bah'azet]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOksZ8VogRw[/media]​

The brutes fought on. That it was what they were bred for. What they were made for! They knew no meaning of surrender and would show the enemy no inkling of mercy. They pressed on. A brute overrun by zombies primed a grenade and using his thrusters flew forward like a live missile towards one of the witches before detonating in a mess of purple blood and green scaly gore. Zombie guts erupted from the warriors detonation point and flew every which way with their limbs and cranial matter tossed about like salad.

Another brute having run out of ammo used his lmg like a club and swinging multiple home runs in a succession that not even Babe Ruth could compete with. Crushing zombie skulls like the grapefruits they were. The last of the Brutes had packed plenty of ammo however and was making a hay day of it. He jammed his weapon into the gut of one zombie and let rip. The superheated laser expanding the zombie to the boiling point and causing it to expand like a cartoon balloon till it exploded in a combine of super heated flaming giblets. Then he wheeled about hosing the room down with a one handed firing arc as his other hand shoved aside any who got too close.

Grosck himself swung his massive axe into enemies indiscriminately. He cut down huge swathes of them as he charged on. Wave after wave of enemies fell beneath the warriors attack. They would fight to the bitter end... At least till the bombs dropped. Their was a shock wave followed by a moment of silence. Their was no right or wrong in the rapture of flames that followed. Only glorious destruction. Then came the sound. An ear deafening screech. A lamentation of a million lives lost in one beautiful second. The Brutes roared with this explosion, their war cries mixing in with it's glorious sound and for a moment achieving the nirvana of a glorious death they had so desperately sought.

The building collapsed upon all within. Witch, Zombie, and Brute.... When the dust had settled a Single hand shot out of the rubble and wrenching itself from the destruction stood a massive nine foot tall being. He was bruised and battered, but defeated? No. The battlefield was completely leveled. The Mandalorians would stay as hated conquerors or the CIS would come as vaunted saviors... But, this day... Only the Bryn'adûl won. Grosck stood tall as he marched towards the rendezvous through rubble strewn streets. He would never forget this day. For it was as the galaxy should be.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]