Annihilation Final Eclipse | GA Annihilation of Exegol

[Wilhelm Vonreg]

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F I N A L_E C L I P S E
Objective I | Star Wars

FINAL DAWN
EXEGOL, UNKNOWN REGIONS

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CRIMSON LININGS VENGEANCE FLIGHT​
Crimson Leader | [100] TIE/fdB Barons | 16/16

Throughout the Second Great Hyperspace War, Marlon Sularen had refrained from deploying the Crimson Linings to battles of similar magnitude such as Csilla, Korriban and Tython out of fear that the Crimson Linings might get overwhelmed and destroyed by enemy elite starfighter squadrons such as the Empire's 181st and the Alliance's Revenant Squadron. However, as the Crimson Linings grew in size and strength with more capable pilots joining its ranks, they were finally given the green light to partake in one of the most ferocious battles in modern galactic history.

This was mostly due to the recent development of the TIE Baron Interceptor, a state-of-the-art interceptor craft designed by SularenCo, as well as the fact that the High Regent needed this operation to be carried with maximum efficiency to ensure the success of his future projects. Of-course that did not matter to Vonreg, as far as he was concerned this battle represented yet another chance to draw more Alliance blood, to further pursue his vendetta of revenge after being betrayed by the previous iteration of the Alliance and put on cryostasis for over a decade because he did what needed to be done when fighting the Sith. At least in the Final Dawn, they recognized that the ends justifies the means, regardless of how brutal or cruel they were.

Now, Vonreg and the Crimson Linings would unleash the full might of their fury upon the nation that had adopted the name and ideals of their original jailers to show them the true consequences of their actions. Revenant Squadron was the ultimate representation of all they sought to destroy, the defenders of greed, corruption and ignorance, and today Vonreg and his fellow wingmates would put an end to a Squadron that stood in the way of their righteous struggle for far too long. Today would be the last day of Revenant Squadron’s existence.

​

After leaving the bridge of the Prophet, Vonreg proceeded to head towards a small hangar located on the starboard side of the large Battlecruiser, which housed the TIE Barons that would soon be utilized by the Crimson Linings throughout the Battle. This was their secret weapon from which they would use to destroy Revenant Squadron, a starfighter that could shrug off direct hits from energy weapons and which possessed a state-of-the-art stealth system. An unstoppable force that would be key to securing starfighter superiority for the Final Dawn in the skies of Exegol.

As Vonreg arrived at the hangar, he was greeted by the sight of his fellow pilots scrambling to their respective TIEs and making last minute pre-flight checks within their TIEs. The Baron was soon greeted by LT-393, the Crimson Lining’s controller who often directed them in battle against their enemies. “Ah, greetings Baron Vonreg. As you can see the Squadron is almost ready for deployment. All TIE Barons have been thoroughly inspected and are fully operational for this combat mission” LT-393 said. “Good. I look forward to facing Revenant Squadron. Their destruction is long overdue.” the Baron responded coldly. “Of course, Baron. Oh and happy hunting.” LT-393 said before proceeding to leave the hangar and head towards the bridge of the Prophet.

Eventually, Vonreg would make his way into the cockpit of his TIE Baron and began making a few pre-flight checks before proceeding to activate his Interceptor. “Alright, Crimson Linings. Let’s show those Alliance bastards what we’re made off.” he said as his TIE Baron slowly hovered upwards before accelerating out of the Hangar of the Prophet, followed by sixteen other TIE Barons. As they departed the Prophet, the comms within the helmets of the Crimson Linings were then suddenly struck by a lot of static which soon transformed into a broadcast that was sent across all channels including those within the Final Dawn.

"The time has come my children, the hour is late and the day is nigh. Give yourselves to the void, let loose the galaxy to come and bask in the eternity that is identity. I am you, and you are all… a part of me.”

For a few seconds there was silence amongst the Crimson Linings, as the Pilots took some time to process this message. The origin of this message was quite a mystery to them but they knew too well its meaning. A Call to arms to give their all against their foes and fight to the last man, to deprive their enemy of a clean and swift victory, and that was something the Crimson Linings would exactly do, for the sake of bringing glory to the Final Dawn. “GLORY TO THE FINAL DAWN!” Vonreg shouted through the comms inspired by the previous proclamation. “GLORY TO THE FINAL DAWN!” his wingmates replied in unison.

Thus, the Crimson Linings flew into battle ready to lay waste to all who stood in their way. Today they would remind the galaxy that this battle would neither be their last or the Final Dawn’s last. They would show the galaxy that they were a force to be reckoned with and it would all start with the destruction of Revenant Squadron.

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Tags [Alliance Scum] | Jack Versio | Tren Chaar | Shar Sieu | Leon Gallo | Emberlyn Rekali | Bané Zirbils ​

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[Ichika Masudo]

SAKURA AND SWORDS
NEW JEDI ORDER
ENROUTE TO
FORBIDDEN DISTRICT - EXEGOL

Allies:
Thelma Goth | Jand Talo | Corazona von Ascania | Silas Westgard | Dreidi Xeraic
Dominik Borra | Cale Gunderson | Aleksandr Stirsea | Kat Decoria | Jadcasa Leesib

Eventually:
Rayden Helonus

Equipment:
1 x Talisman of Iron Fists | 1 x Violet-Bladed Lightsaber | 1 x Songsteel Katana | 1 x Songsteel Wakizashi

The last time she had entered into physical combat had been one of the last times her life had seemed simple. Straightforward. She knew who and what she could trust. Aaran had been at her shoulder, Minato had been alive, and she had wanted so much to bring pride to her family and clan. But for several months now, her master, Aaran, had been missing, and the man she had called her father, the former Jedi Minato Masudo, had died not long after. Leaving his lies out in the open.

Her world had been turned on its head… or so it had seemed, at the time.

She still had a lot to figure out, but one thing that hadn’t appeared to have changed was what she could do with a blade. At the very least, she felt that her martial capabilities had not been compromised - going through katas, falling into the focus, was a reprieve from emotions that had been too great, ran too hot. The process of going through the preparations of her equipment and mentally preparing for battle was similarly a meditative thing, separate from the hurt that still lingered.

She didn’t hate Minato. It wasn’t that simple.

She still loved the man that was her father.

But it was the most painful thing.

When Jand spoke to Silas, she blinked rapidly, her unintended focus on… nothing becoming broken, and she turned her blue-eyed gaze to the two of them. “My congratulations to you as well, Knight Westgard,” she said with an incline of her head, “I have learned yours was not the only ceremony I have missed.”

Learning that she had missed standing witness to the ascension of Jasper Kai'el in particular had put a frown on her face. He was one of few people that she had considered a friend. Now she wasn’t sure, but that wasn’t any fault of his. They would need to reconnect.

When Jand asked after her orders, how she was feeling, and whether she was confident, she had to think for a moment. Brushing some hair back that had fallen over her shoulder, her fingers grazed the strong cord at her neck, and she traced the cord absently, until it disappeared under the layers of what she wore. From it was suspended a talisman, a last gift from her erstwhile master and one that was not specifically knowledge. She had found it waiting in her quarters, with no note, months prior. Same as the one Aaran himself had worn.

Only after that did she discover he had disappeared entirely without notice - even the council had known nothing. Returning her attention to the Nagai, finally, one thought of Aaran, a realisation, crossed her mind before she spoke of her mission:

[ I desire for his guidance, even now. ]

“I have been directed to scout to the west,” she replied, “without direct accompaniment,” for the first time, and despite her long absence, “I have no concerns with this. I will do what needs to be done.”

It had ultimately been her choice, and whether she was capable wasn’t an issue. Her eyes and ears followed the subtext when Jand went on to address Corazona next, and when the girl replied, the corners of Ichika’s mouth almost twitched into a frown.

“Let us all complete our respective tasks swiftly and return to Coruscant in one piece.”

The half-Zeltron did not feel whole, though she agreed with what was meant by that hope. Finally, the vessel was coming in for a landing.

“My… master would have found a way to see this as a learning exercise, I am certain,” she said as a final thing before they would look to their tasks - it felt strange to speak of Aaran as a was, “be open to the possibility that you may learn something today about yourselves, or otherwise.”

That was her advice. It was how he had guided her, and it was one way in which they could grow. Each conflict had changed her, often in small ways: the aftermath of Ilum, for example, had given her the impression of the lengths she would go to, for the sake of a friend or fellow Jedi, in seeing how others of her cohort had suffered. After the shuttle came to a bumpy stop, she rose, glanced over her gear, and exited the craft, hopping down to the ground. Nigh-immediately, Corazona had spotted something in the distance, and Ichika picked up on the feeling that sight inspired in the younger girl. She peered in that direction as well.

“It looks nothing like the circuses on Atrisia," she opined, "None of this feels like a circus either."

An event she had attended yearly, before leaving to become a Jedi. Her gaze skirted over to Jand, then past him to the direction in which she was to trek. Her eyes narrowed as she breathed in, then out just as slowly, starting to carefully skim and pick apart the emotional landscape. Picking up on multiple layers of all that which paved the path to darkness - fear, anger, hate among them - and some of that did not necessarily lead one down that dark spiral. Altogether, an oppression that crushed against the broadcasted warmth of peace and resolve offered by the overwatch of the Circle of Seers. Then a question occurred to her, directed at Jand:

“Is there any such performative event on Saijo?”

It was then that the SIA agent interjected herself into their loose conversation. She broke off her observations, and turned to the woman.

"Our orders take us in more than one direction, Agent Scarab, so our group will break apart from here," she said flatly with a faint smile, briefly looking past the Agent as if there was something to see, there, "Unless there is more than one of you...?"

She returned her attention to the face of Agent Scarab, and her mouth reassumed being a line - now was the time for focus - and her head tipped forward in the barest incline, to finally greet the agent.

"I am Ichika Masudo."

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Exegol, Phase 1
Engaging: Romund Sro
Nearby Allies: Minerva Fhirdiad , BB-610 , Calix of Thyrsus

​

Jasper took note of how the man's wound burned, ashes billowing out from it's core. He was more alchemy than man, something that changed the dynamic of the battle completely. If the moment of hesitation was anything to go off of, it seemed that Jasper's assessment of the man's fear had been correct as well. The Jedi Knight had the benefit of making peace with death. It seemed that the masked fellow had no such luxury. It was an edge, one that could determine the outcome of this encounter.

“I… want that blade of yours Jedi…”

A telekinetic pull began to pull at him. It was an attempt to knock him off balance, no doubt. Jasper stiffened up and maintained his form, letting himself be pulled towards his opponent ever so slightly rather than fighting it and losing his footing. Something as simple as foot placement could mean life or death. As Romund swung his cane diagonally, Jasper was quick to intercept it, their blades locking once more. He was large, and noticeably strong. Jasper was no slouch physically, but there was certainly some strain there that, had it not been for the enhancements in his prosthetic, could have been far more difficult to manage.

"That can be arranged," Jasper remarked through gritted teeth. "Just... tell me... where you want it."

The center of his torso was looking like the most desirable location for it. Lux Ultima was a special blade. Not only because he forged it, but because of it's ability to channel force energy into it. Theoretically, that meant the sword could be twisted as well. There was no way he'd let such a thing happen to it.

Jasper decided to utilize a force push of his own to throw Romund back. From there he would bring the blade up, bringing it down in an overhead strike.

 

[Teshi Ocano]

// Objective II // Descending on the Forbidden District // Brick by Brick //
Allies: GA | Osarla Ridor | Janesha Porwool | Alexander Hayes | Nova Corps
Enemies: BOTM | NIO | SO | Open for Engagement

Nova Corps sat amongst themselves in the dropship. The pathfinders were only a few rows down, but their last rites felt a world aways. Teshi did not feel compelled to build on the speech Osarla had delivered. Today, she was not a proxy. They had their leader back. Instead, she was a silent death. A lone soldier. A ship in a storm with no port to be found.

Vhi sat next to her, and she could sense the thunder over his head, too. Alexander Hayes may have had it worse, losing his whole unit, but her squad was two short. Neither Teshi's nor Vhi's efforts had been enough to stop it. Another absence had almost slipped passed her in her brooding. Leaning forward, the Major spoke softly to the General.

"Where is Sion?"

Mechanized helmet hid emotion, but Teshi's fist balled, preparing for the worst. She wasn't close to the boy by any means, and he was more Jedi than soldier... but he had seen the thick of it and been blooded in Nova Corps. He was, for all purposes, one of them. They couldn't have lost another so near the end of it all.

The answer she demanded would elude her. The ship shook, rolled, knocking the marines around. Water sleeps, but the enemy never rests. They would not grant the Alliance an easy landing.

"Folks, we got company." The captains voice stated over the comms. "Prepare for an emergency jump on my mark."

"Oh, by the force, not this again!"

Teshi stood, leaning over Osarla to the compartment where parachutes and jetpacks awaited them. Old habits died hard. As she passed equipment to the pathfinders, snark was propelled by the adrenaline.

"You nerf herders remember how to use 'em, right?"

 

[Kinoan]

Exegol | Forbidden District | Xiveros

​

It was not long before the colorful streams of blaster fire started decorating the district.

The Knight's golden blade flew downward as it slashed through the body of a hideous spawn of the Maw. A horrifying screech exited the creature's mouth as it began to fall in pain. Removing the weapon from its body, the man spun behind a broken pillar as more bolts of energy flew by his head. Dark red blood began to collect at his feet as the Maw soldier clawed outward. One quick shot from Kinoan's blaster pistol put the creature out of its misery.

Lightsaber blades spread far and wide across the battlefield, sticking out like a Wookiee in a Coruscant spaceport. Their magnificent colors brightened the darkened area that laid out before them. A feeling of comfort was given to the man, as it had been some time since he fought alongside the Jedi he once called brothers and sisters. But now was not the time for reminiscing.

Peeking out from behind a crumbling pillar, Kinoan looked out at the scene before him. Maw soldiers continued their advancement, letting nothing block the path being made. Behind them were a collection of Sith warriors. Some were Knyghts of the Maw, others were with the Sith Order. Either way, he was not going to let them stop their ultimate goal: reaching the Sith Citadel.

Once again, the man spun out from behind the structure, striking down another creature. This one now raised up its weapon in protest, but Kinoan was too quick. With an elegant spin, the lightsaber blade cleanly swept off the head of the soldier. No noise was gifted this time.

Kinoan looked onward at the looming red sabers. It would only be a matter of time before a challenger would approach. Until then, he would start clearing a path for his fellow warriors of light.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Tag: Zark San Tekka​

Location: Orbit of Exegol​

Summary: Entering the System, preparing for the fight.​

​

The Sith knew this was coming - the Maw could not distract the Jedi forever, but they had done well in the eyes of Empyrean. The Emperor had watched them drive various warlords from the galactic plane while the Eternalists retreated to prepare - and in that time, they had proclaimed a great and total victory. Many had claimed their now dead Dark Lord was the Sith'ari - but like every Sith'ari before him, he was ash beneath the dirt. Now the great lie had been undone, and the Sith once thought killed and absorbed returned from the shadows.​

​

As the beacon was lit by Darth Carnifex - the great and terrible behemoth sent a massive shockwave of malevolent energies through the system. Where once nothing was, suddenly a great black storm hundreds of kilometers across appeared; only for its depths to ignite with fire as starships, battle cruisers, and a full fleet exited its sensor shrouding depths. In only the span of a minute, the storm dissapated enough to show what lay behind that wall of lightning.​

​

The Mors Mon - the largest ship in the galaxy, unseen by the Core and Sith, strode into orbit over the world with a terrifying size and presence. Its weapons crushed anything to close to it as more ships detached from its depths - leading to a great and terrible carnage as those unfortunate enough to be closest to it were annihilated. It did not clarify its targets, it did not side with either of the two great evils over Exegol, only struck at anything not bearing the Imperium's symbol.​

​

Transports began to flood the hangers towards the planet, with intention to take from the Maw what it had once taken from the old Empire and Eternals - records, holocrons, Sith dismayed and brainwashed. The great wheel turned once more, and crushed the old regime beneath its boot heel - as the Emperor looked down upon it in his great and terrible visage.​

​

"Ensure the crystal is warm for my return.", he said to a small collection of Sith Lords. They dropped to a knee and in unison accepted his command.​

​

The Emperor moved from the bridge with his Praetorians in tow - hulking Sith who did not speak, who did not partake in the wheel, only protected their Lord. They would do well to remind this planet of what he was - what he had become. The Sith would no longer suffer pretenders, and they would not suffer the likes of Jedi despoiling what the Sith had wrought.​

​

As he moved to the hangers, a recording began to play on all channels - for the Jedi and Sith alike, for friend and foe in equal measures.​

​

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"We have returned.", the visage of the Dread Emperor, the Dead God, said with darkness in his inhuman eyes.​

​

"Long has the Galaxy fought, long have they claimed the death of the Order beneath the bootheels of the Imperials, the Jedi, and the 'New' Sith Order - but none had succeeded in their efforts, only placated their ego and sensibilities with lies forged in the fires of insecurity and fear. For many years we have allowed this belief to fester, so that our revenge would be absolute."​

​

"That absolution has come. Let all who have come to Exegol seeking to kill face only death, and let all who have forgotten the true Sith be reminded what true power is. The Sith demand strength, the Code demands passion, but your Emperor demands blood. Kill all the deceivers, the ramblers, the downtrodden suckling on stolen strength."​

​

"Death is in our wake, let us show them who it now abides by."​

​

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​

The Emperor found a place in the middle of the transport as the rest of the ships took off in unison. Gun fire found itself accosting them quickly, blaster flak and a variety of weapons meant to take these transports from the sky - but the Adonis were fast, immensely hard to break, and more maneuverable than most gave them credit for. In only a few minutes, most of the transports had found their place near the Sith Citadel - where a battle already had begun to occur.​

​

Imperials, Jedi, Maw - all would be fired upon as the new forces turned an already chaotic battlefield into a war torn mess of destruction. Nothing would remain when this was done, but the Sith cared little for collateral - only that the important pieces of the Sith were returned. Artifacts, holobooks, scriptures, and the Sith who would surrender themselves to greater strength. Blood ran thick in the stone of the forgotten city tainted by heretics and enemies, but it was this blood that would cleanse it of wickedness.​

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"Come. We have great deeds to do.", the Emperor said as he moved towards the Citadel - where in a much greater battle would soon take place.​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Their blades connected, showering the pair in red and gold sparks. Electricity and flame lashed at the both of them, dredged up from the sheer power that swept in as the Dark Lord made Himself known. The Jedi Master would see only the harsh metal façade He wore, that vicious rictus grin that peered down at her with shining crimson eyes. He was rank with the Dark Side, it radiated off of Him in nearly palpable waves; a beacon for all that was unclean and unnatural. If there was ever a conduit for the Dark Side of the Force in the galaxy, it was standing directly before her.

Her secondary blade was thrust at Him, the golden saber slashing open a smoldering gash in the soft fabric of His tabard. The soft fabric connected to the Dark Lord's armor was interwoven with banded threads of cortosis, which was capable of shorting out the blade of a lightsaber on contact. It mattered little in the moment, as the Jedi rolled away and spun around to face Him, taking her out of His immediate range. Not that He made any attempt to chase her down, He angled the tip of His lightsaber down towards the ground in an extremely laxed defensive stance; almost as though they weren't embroiled in a vicious struggle of life and death.

"Far above, far below. We don't know where we'll fall. Far above, far below. What once was great is rendered small." The almost musical mantra was relayed to the Jedi Master from behind the metal mask, the voice heavily modulated with a mechanical timbre. He slowly walked forward, each step a harrowing death knell. His weapon was yet kept to His side, the tip so close to the ground it cut through loose rocks and upended dirt as the terrain shifted in height.

Far above, the Mors Mons entered the star system; guided there by the navigational beacon that the Dark Lord had activated minutes prior. The Great Lie was being unraveled strand by strand, and the usurper's children were being dashed against the stone. Carnifex could sense Darth Empyrean approaching the planet, and briefly wondered whether their paths would cross again. Unlikely, was the answer, for their paths diverged and would not yet combine for a long time.

"Did you imagine it," asked the towering Sith, His blade finally raising to slash down at the Jedi Master in a heavily telegraphed fashion. It would've been easy to block or evade, like the Sith wasn't even trying to strike her with any serious effort. "That your death would be so violent, and so meaningless?" Another strike, and another, and a final third. The Dark Lord's helmet briefly pivoted to the side, His gaze falling on the Jedi's companions yet fighting against the Mawite hordes.

"Did you imagine theirs would be the same?"

Ala Quin​

 

[Dasmi Lindervale]

THE - GREAT - HUNT​

---In Transit---​

The command section was silent as Dasmi stood at its center. His eyes never wandering far from the image of his second in command.

She stood with a grace that he had always admired. One that was equal parts confidence paired with authority. An unwavering sense of presence and belonging.

Something he always felt was a show when he attempted the same.

The communications officer turned to face him, Dasmi diverting his attention briefly as Rimes only let her eyes wander toward the slight shift of the projection.

"The Ragnarök has shared information.
The Alliance starfighters have broadcast their path, Admiral. Dispatching the information to the droid network now."

The curt nod given as he returned his attention to Rimes.

---Currently Present----​

Spoiler: Spearhead Fleet

• The Ragnarök
  • 28 Squadrons of Multi-role Droid Starships (560)
  • 4 Squadrons of Sensor Droid Support Starships (48)
  • 10 Squadron of Armed Transport Shuttles (120)
• 1 CR90 MK VIII Assault Corvettes
  ENS Herald
• 4 Disruptor MK III Class Corvettes
  ENS Castle
  ENS Spark
  ENS Medley
  ENS Skipjack
• 2 Monarch Class Destroyers
  ENS Lasher
  ENS Havoc
  • 12 Squadrons of Forsaken Starfighter Interceptors (240)
  • 4 Squadron of Armed Transport Shuttles (48)

Location: Exegol, Path to the Red Honeycomb Zone
Objective: Fleeting

The Spearhead Fleet had not stopped upon the lack of response, merely waiting as the path forward was charted.

The Ragnarök and its escorts began closing the distance when the Allaince had forged the path ahead. Rimes checked in with the sensor pit to find a number of the droids lacking any defining data.

"Issues?"

"Ma'am, they aren't able to penetrate the cloud. They'll warn us of further system incursions but their systems aren't specialized enough to-"

"Understood. Set the first Squadron to keep an eye trained for surprise egress passages. Deploy another Squadron ahead of us and have them follow the path. Get the scans ready before we break through."

The officer nodding sharply as another Squadron of Sensor Droids peeled away from the capital ship at blistering speed to follow the Alliance vessels into the thick of things.

They spread out along the interior after navigating the passage, dangerously close in a few cases as three of them were lost in their haste to form their Sensor net. Their miniscule signals mingling with the already chaotic storm of engagement present as they settled into passive, further reduced systems to hide their presence.

<"ENS Herald, you are cleared to break Formation for successful breach and sitrep. ENS Lasher and ENS Havoc will break formation to follow suit and deploy Intercepors for the Alliance pilots. You are free to engage Maw forces upon emergence with full liberties.">

Dasmi's image began to flicker more as the vessels drew closer to their entry point, and while he moved his mouth, little more than static emerged.

<"ENS Skipjack and Castle will lead our formation in with ENS Medly and ENS Spark providing cover and relevant data on our egress. Make it so.">

Data was slow to filter through as the system began to extend and paint the picture ahead of them.

A number of engagements occurring all at once and likely a chaotic mingling of wills. Rimes stared at the images, noting a few spots of the net were rather dismal in detail. Relevant positions of enemy ships, IFF Transponder positions of allied vessels.

She stared at the sight presented to her, noting the rather lacking defensive array of the Maw fleet. Her crimson eyes flitting between the different outlines present in the enemy contingent.

She'd been warned about the presence of one force, to keep a wary eye to the system for surprises. And a large force capable of overwhelming tactics. The only points of interest thus far being the lackluster Maw fleet.

The other of some formation of sorts around a fixed point on the planet.

Did we lose too many droids to provide information about this sector?"

"Ma'am?"

"I'm heistant to shift the droids about through this soup, but we may need more on that point. Share our current findings with the Alliance. They can share it as they please."

An information signal sent towards Alliance vessels about what they had found thus far.

Three Enternal Naval ships breaking away from the larger formation to begin their path inside and engage in the fight with the eagerness of a freshly blooded warrior.

---Tags---​

Enemies: Grand Shepherd Burtch Marlon Sularen Ira Sarrin
Allies: GA | EE

 

[Quintessa]

Location: Sith Citadel
Objective: Escort the Dark Lord - Salvage Artifacts
Direct Engagement: Nathan Bloodscrawl

Deeper, she went.

The Dark Troopers marched in precise cadence some distance behind her, but Quintessa paid them little mind as she made her way down the massive, foreboding hallway. A cacophony of hisses and snarls soon met her, preceding a ravenous group of Moon Children crawling, running, and climbing over one another to get to her. Settling into a low, cat-like stance, the speedster placed her chakrams on her back and exchanged them for her lightsabers. The weapons came to life to manifest a pair of blazingly alabaster blades as the speedster kicked into motion, the wind screaming in her wake as she launched herself towards the howling pack of insane clones with savage intent.

Not even a split-second later, four heads bearing pained, yet eerily-relieved expressions flew forth from a quartet of broken, spike-clad bodies, which crashed to the ground moments later, never to walk again under their own power. Six more Moon Children met similarly terminal fates, their snarls, hisses, and howls silenced within a few heartbeats, followed only by the dense thuds of their bodies slumping to the ground like puppets with their strings cut.

However, they had been meant only as a distraction for something else—something far more dangerous.

A Sovereign Protector.

The crimson and black-clad figure charged, a massive vibro-ax brought to bear against Quintessa and leveled towards her in a wide arcing slash, forcing the speedster to throw herself into a Force-enhanced backflip somersault that carried her a few meters back, allowing her to avoid the gruesome fate of being bisected by the warrior’s blade. Quintessa planted her feet as she landed, quickly shifting into her familiar stance before delivering a series of quick, low slashes aimed to strike the Sovereign Protector in his legs, her rapid, blurred movements throwing up clouds of dust and debris as the air danced in her wake. One of her blows grazed the warrior’s left leg, but the man was unflinching, seemingly unaffected by the pain as he warded off one attack after another with masterful Teräs Käsi maneuvers.

Until she gave him one that he couldn’t.

Quintessa feinted low, then went high in a powerful Force Leap, her lightsabers singing as they delivered a pair of pinpoint thrusts into the Sovereign Protector’s head, punching a pair of burning holes through his helmet and skull.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Pulsiva Bodysuit
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade (2) - L/R
  • Sith Talisman
    
    • Spirit Anchor
    • Amulet of Many
  • Utility
    
    • Supernal Infusion
    • FAE/U-01 “Serenity” Anti-Signal Field System
• Dancer’s Wheels
• Quintessa’s Twin Lightsaber Shotos
• Krath Council Stiletto

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

It became very quickly apparent that he was not the only one here, it was hard to tell what was the first sign.

Had it been the ghoulish scream that he had heard some distance away, some distance away but certainly still within the purview of the carnival?

Had it been the reports of his comms from various squads of guards that Alliance dropships had already landed, and indeed it seemed that two of their ilk were advancing quickly on the carnival?

Had it been the short-statured, orange-eyed, and raven-haired Dathomiri woman that he saw in front of him, with a dangerous smirk and glint in her eyes?

It was hard to tell really, they were all very complicated obstructions to his plans.

His arm moved up to his lips, as his eyes tracked the woman in front of him, giving her the full attention that she certainly deserved, she was silent thus far, but Malum had the vaguest sensation she was one to prowl and strike like a cat if he gave her the opportunity. Though the orange eyes and the general demeanor did remind him that in the most general terms, they could be allies, she was one of the Maw from the looks, and his mission was to convince as many as he could to defect to the Sith Order... perhaps if she was not one to strike first, he could attempt a parley...?

"Withdraw back to the starcraft, and form a defensive perimeter, do not engage with any Alliance or Maw forces," Malum whispered the comm, never once taking his eyes off the Dathomori.

"As you command, Scion Marr," A lieutenant that he had not yet gained the name of responded back.

"Sibby, return to the Lochris and prepare the ship for my return," Malum continued to whisper, this time to his astromech, who responded back with chirps and clanks, before buzzing away behind Malum.

That at least was his escape route taken care of, now came the arguably difficult prospect.

Diplomacy.

"My lady in service to the Maw," Malum began, revealing his arms to show he was unarmed and taking a step forward and offering a small nod of his head as a bow, "I serve the Sith Order and the Emperor of the Sith, we are here to aid Maw forces to escape the planet and rejoin the Sith Order, to prepare ourselves for the time to strike at the Galactic Alliance," Malum said his piece, nodding to Motus, as it translated his words to Dathmorian just in case. Now Malum was lying... to a degree, when given this task by his Mistress, Darth Ophidia it was to be diplomatic in nature, but the Sith Order's presence here was far from diplomatic, and the arrival of the Sith Armada with the Mors Mon up in the sky would make that very evident.

They were here to destroy the Maw as well.

But they would extract all its worth before doing that.

"The Jedi are already here, join forces with me, and we shall repel them," A fight or survive offer, he extended his hand out, as Motus translated. Still, he was prepared for his lightsaber to fly out of its holster, if indeed the cat deemed this the time to strike.

He only hoped she would see sense.

He had found a Maw yes, and knew two Jedi were rapidly approaching.

That still left a wildcard unaccounted for.

Val Drutin Corazona von Ascania Jand Talo Tegan Starfall

 

[Dominik Borra]

PHASE 1
GUNS GALORE | ENROUTE TO...
FORBIDDEN DISTRICT - EXEGOL

Allies:
Thelma Goth | Jand Talo | Corazona von Ascania | Silas Westgard | Dreidi Xeraic
Ichika Masudo | Cale Gunderson | Aleksandr Stirsea | Kat Decoria | Jadcasa Leesib | Strike Team Tano

Enemies:
Darth Malum of House Marr | Val Drutin | Tegan Starfall | Other bad bad dark peeps

Dominik always knew that he'd die in a place that didn't know his name. Some underground facility, a Sith Lord's chamber, or where someone whacked him and almost succeeded in killing him, a city street. Exegol though? Exegol? Dominik wasn't a Jedi Master or one destined to clash against a great evil power like those around him on the shuttle, but he was a Sith Killer. Trained and hardened from near childhood to fight them and those like them. He'd make his name known here, and if that was the case, then no way he'd die here. Right?

Right. But Exegol was still one scary place. Its whole existence defied expectations. Hidden shipyards, rumors of cloning facilities, Sith and Darkside hotspots... A planet that needed a good annihilation, if there ever was one. And this wouldn't be like Metellos, where he only faced a swarm of the Maw's thralls, this was their homebase. Everything that they had left would be brought to bear here. So he made sure to bring everything he had too.

Equipment: Personal Armor | Robotic Arm | Cybernetic Eye | Thorns | Amulet of Many
Ebony, Sword | Cross Cryo Projector | SPS-25 Whisper Suppressed Sidearm | DC-17m Interchangeable Weapon System
​

Dominik liked how the MagRounds faired against the thralls on Metellos, but this was going to be a long fight. Ammunition for those kinds of weapons would be too heavy, take too much space. So he couldn't just bring every big gun he had, but had to think ergonomically as well. So aside from the alchemized sword on his back he brought only three weapons. Each was attached with strong electromagnets to his armor, keeping them secure until he reached for them. So a slugthrowing handgun, silenced, for SIA agents. His standard DC-17m for a variety of engagements and circumstances, and the Maw's own Cross Cryo Projector. If they didn't want their enemies using it, they shouldn't have let that black market dealer get his hands on one. And it was Dominik's now.

He checked over his weapons silently as he heard chatter around the dropship.

"I was unable to attend your knighting ceremony, due to being on the frontline. Congratulations on your appointment in the Order. And good luck in the fight ahead."

Jedi and their Padawans. Every time he found himself working alongside them, he found himself wishing he could have been born one of them. People like Jand were why.

"SIA, Agent Scarab. I'm along to collect any intel that's valuable to Alliance Intel and policymakers, as well as interrogate any prisoners we take into custody." She paused, leaving out the killing part. Summary execution was a real doozy.

"I'm also instructed to follow any intelligence leads on foreign adversaries capabilities, so there may become a point where I have to break off from the group. I'll give you warning before that happens."

And then what he was really born into. The shade and the intelligence.

"Task Force Null, Agent Guns Galore, but call me Dominik." Dominik said before loading the magazine into his silenced sidearm and attaching it to his thigh. "I'm your gunman and walking shield. Haven't worked with many of you before, but I know you from your friends, Jasper Kai'el and Valery Noble . We get into too much trouble, stick by me." His helmet was off so those around him could see his face. "I specialize in dealing with Sith targets. Could say I've been around this block." As if no one here had. With how much these padawans had been through, they might have had more experience than he did in the past couple of years.

The dropship landed and Dominik placed his helmet on before the doors opened. His gun was pointed outwards and ready and as they touched ground he examined the area, finding only a...

"Is that…a circus tent?"

Dominik's sigh was put through his voice modulator. He looked down his scope and magnified the image. "Yeah. I... suppose it is." Whatever these clowns were cooking up, he didn't like it. Serious and stern Sith were much more likeable than insane ones in clown tents. He shouldered his gun as he looked at the padawans. "How do we want to play it? I can bombard them with grenades from outside, but I have a limited amount. Might be better used for those swarms of thralls the Maw likes."

---

OOC: Here to provide support to Jand Talo and Corazona von Ascania if they want it. Just trying to find the landing point for Dominik in this Chaos. If you don't want him that's fine, posted before I realized that this was a planned duel between you guys. Let me know.

 

[Y'sanne Stradd]

Y’sanne Stradd
Heathen Priestess, Reverend Mother, Priestess of the Dark Three, High Priestess of the Scar Hounds Tribe​

Objective: Release the beasts
Location: On a stealth ship, somewhere in the Exegol system
Equipment: Sacrifical Dagger | Sacrifical Dagger | Staff | Crown | Amulet of Many
Units: 2x Pontifical Palatini (members, not units)
Tags: Wilhelm Vonreg | Jack Versio | Tren Chaar | Shar Sieu | Leon Gallo | Emberlyn Rekali | Bané Zirbils | Onrai | Grand Shepherd Burtch | Brodan Dobson | Ira Sarrin | Gabriel Creed | John Jewl | Naivia Ri | Jack Versio | Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Dasmi Lindervale | Laine Gowrie | BB-610 | Fleeters

[ Let There Be Night ]
<"ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

//OOC: It was a simple DM post, which is provides the fleeters some NPC enemy. I’ll not control them, these are only beasts, these are yours now. Have fun with them! The large one is 7.500 metres long, the small ones are ~ 200 metres. //

---

Although the priestess was an integral part of the Maw, she had no intention of helping them today. I mean, not really, she was here for something else. Kyrel Ren 's ritual was something that served her purposes. The priestess did not believe that the Avatars would appear today, the Dark Three had not hinted at this while speaking to the woman. Of course, they may not have actually spoken to the woman; in the case of a madman, one never knows where the sounds they hear come from. But Y'sanne believed that the voices she was hearing were the voices of the Dark Three. In general, she received assurances and signs about this.

There was no sign of anything related to that today. However, the ritual of the Wrath was appealing for her to finally be rid of the Sith and Priesthood to finally be freed from Sith influence. This is what the woman has longed for, freedom. Freedom from Sith control so the Church, the Priesthood can return to its old glory. Because the Sith only brought destruction upon them and made a joke out of the entire Mawite religion. She wanted the old glory again, nothing else. It looked like today would be a great day for that, even if the Dark Three weren't coming over to Realspace.

However, this required time so that the ritual going on below would remain undisturbed. This is exactly why the woman had prepared earlier to make it difficult for the attackers. By the way, in the space around Exegol, there were countless different small and large creatures that were dangerous to different ships. But there were creatures big enough for everything; including two types of Summa-verminoth. There was only one of the large ones in the area, which competed with the largest warships, but there were many of the smaller ones, which were good against small ships. These were beings that anyone could easily say came from another dimension. They were a perfect match for the Maw and the Heathen Priesthood of the Hidden Maw.

The woman was on a camouflaged ship, and on the way, various space mines had already been scattered by them, forming a chain that would lure out and lead the Summa-verminoths to the enemy's fleet. As soon as the last one was in place, the ship flew away. The woman was on the ship with only two bodyguards, this task did not require too much work.

"Let the Dark Three's will happen!" she said and recited a prayer to War, Death and Rebirth.

After that she gave the order. The first explosion happened at the edge of the system, maybe outside of it, and then the explosions happened further and further inside, like a domino and this was the domino effect. The explosions also affected the various nebulae and asteroid fields in the system. The explosions apparently caused no damage and did not disrupt the systems and scanners either. At first nothing happened. And then the numerous approaching spots could appear on the radars. Many small fast and one gigantic huge. As soon as they got closer, these things became visible.

These were not machines, spaceships, or droids. These were living creatures. With a huge body, a huge eye in the middle of the body, and long tentacles that could be used to cling to the hulls of ships to destroy them. The little ones were roughly two-hundred-metre-long creatures, a lot of them appeared and approached the fleets. However, there was another one approaching behind the tiny faster creatures. This gigantic creature was nearly seven and a half kilometres long, with extremely long and thick tentacles. It was apparently slower due to its size, but it was still quite fast and soon all the eldritch creatures would reach the warring fleets.

These were not intelligent beings, they will target everyone equally as soon as they arrive at Exegol…

"And then everyone will see the will of the Avatars!" whispered the priestess on her ship.

 

[Darth Wallgof]

Location: Exegol
Objective: BYOO
Equipment: Beskar Armour, Lightsaber
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren | Briana Sal-Soren | Cybelle Sal-Soren | Darth Temerant | Velda Nar-Donna

Close. They were hauntingly close and Wallgof could feel the joys of being able to track, stalk and prepare himself for this. The amount of Dark Side energies emanating from the planet, the signatures of many, many Sith and Dark Side users, it was all melding with his own presence. To hide in the shadows was all too easy. It was like breathing, natural and barely noticeable unless you tried to feel. Darth Wallgof had been tracking them as soon as they arrived on the world, their Light shone like a torch in the darkness of night, it was painfully obvious where they were all times even if he wasn’t attempting to focus on them, they would be clear as day in his peripheral vision.

There were three. Two he knew, two he had planned for and was ready to deal with. Three was new, three was different. Third was a stranger. Not the cousin that Briana had brought, not the other boy she had following her like a puppy. No, this was a different third. His senses were drawn in, he was curious on who this third might be. Was it something romantically tied to one of them, was it another relative or was it simply another puppy following them? Wallgof was curious about the ones that followed, surrounded themselves around the siblings since they were avenues to destroying them. Taint, corrupt or kill those close and there would be ways into the mind, push the buttons, cause the emotions to overwhelm. These were all important if Wallgof wanted to win, if he wanted to show them that the Dark Side was always going to be stronger, better. If he wanted to truly turn the Jedi and demonstrate they were all merely waiting to become Sith under his rule.

As he got closer, the ship came into view. It was curious that they came here. What was it that they were searching for? Did it truly matter to him that they had come here with a plan? Wallgof shook his head, if anything that only made his plan easier, they would never expect him to come. He was crazy, insane, incapable of being part of a large group or force. No, Darth Wallgof was always seen as removed from the rest of the Sith and it was how he wanted it. If he was part of them then he would end up a lapdog. A toy of those that deemed themselves better than him. No one was better or stronger, no he was going to show all the Sith that he was the true leader. He just needed to bide his time, figure out how to use the gifts of Naga Sadow. Then he would rule. Then he would show the Jedi how weak they were.

Getting closer to the ship, he placed a hand on the door, listening inside before he dared to enter. Conversations were happening, blaster fire. He had heard the voice of Brandyn Sal-Soren inside, so he knew this was where he was meant to be. He also knew that others were inside, not just the Jedi. Sith were here. They did not matter to him either though, pests that would only get in his way. He needed to focus on what he wanted. Stepping on board the ship, Wallgof looked around with a light chuckle. What a pickle the Jedi had gotten themselves in for. He was only pleased to add more to their plates.

In his left hand, he ignited his crimson blade. The red glow reflected off his beskar armour as Wallgof stepped forward slowly, the breeze allowing his tattered cloak to dance around weightlessly.

“Hello children. Seems that we meet again.” His voice was silky in tone, calm but still very sinister.

 

[Westenra Mina]

Wearing: Dark Gladiator Armor

Armed With: Burning Hatred


Earlier...Oyokal.

The rampage through the Vong Prison had not been satisfying.

She sat upon a pile of sliced up Maw corpses, picking her teeth, covered in blood. Every GA avoided the creature that had become known as the Demon of Jedha. A monster that hunted all worshippers of the three Avatars with a zeal that was nearly unmatched. Her massacre of the Mawites at Jedha, Epoch, and Metallos had cemented her as a severe threat to the Brotherhood on a ground combat basis...and had given her a decidedly mixed reputation with her GA "Allies", whom she rarely interacted with anymore. On the one hand, feth the Maw. Anything that could be used to kill them was an asset.

On the other hand, she was so horrifyingly cruel and brutal towards them that she threatened to become a constant PR Nightmare. More than one Jedi had called for her detainment, expulsion, or both. The GADF still kept hiring her, and the fact she was only charging them seven credits for Anti-Maw operations meant whatever threat she might possibly pose when there were no more Mawites would have to wait until after there were no more Mawites.

She had lazily drifted through the aftermath of that great battle in the Vong Prison Camp, having finally bored of her surroundings and deciding to wait until the real operation...the journey to Exegol... began.

She felt it in her Organic databases, past a long lingering Droid Madness brought about by trauma she suffered when the Maw invaded Coruscant...that what was coming next was the end. Of herself, the Maw, or both, she couldn't tell. To be honest, she didn't care. Because it would be over.

Lynda was finally approaching a sheer burning out in her madness. If she survived this battle, the only thing left to do was hunt Laertia Io down, drag her ruined body before the GA, and find some way of saving House Io's Droid Population from itself.

She wandered away from lingering GA operations near the prison, wandered the planet itself, and what a mess the Maw had made of it. Mass Graves, Minor Factories, Torture Facilities...typical for them.

SISTER

Lynda stopped, flinched, bloodshot eyes darting around as Laertia Io called out to her via technopathy.

Where are you? Lynda called back, drawing her sword.

Close. Too close for their comfort.

Find me.

Lynda journeyed far from GA operations, simply walking deeper into the planet's land mass, now very far away. She spotted a cave mouth guarded by purple fire and went into it.

She found an immaculate looking Laertia Io in a flesh colored Catsuit with white boots and gloves. Her face was free of scars. She rested on a throne of stone in a lake of purple flames. Lynda crossed the lake easily.

"You dare show yourself here?! You're even crazier than I am." Lynda snarled.

Laertia shrugged. "It's good to see you Lynda. I am reborn. I am now known as The Parliament."

Lynda, in spite of her blood madness, felt a twinge of pity and sympathy for her one-time sister. The last shreds of her sanity had given out.

"I am sorry to hear that. I had hoped to speak to you one final time by yourself. Before your skull became occupied. Tell me...is The Amalgam in there, with you?"

The Parliament shook her head. "Dead as a doornail. Deader than dead."

"It is a pity you didn't kill her when I first suggested it. Begged it, really. But I'm glad you finally overcame your attachment to her."

"Sister--" the Parliament began...

Lynda took a step back.

"We haven't been sisters since you betrayed House Li-Ves. You've even forced my mother into hiding."

"Your mother tried to sell me out on a jungle moon!" The Parliament snarled back. "Gave away my position to an SJO task force. A vampire, who thinks to lecture me about what's moral and what isn't. The Jedi would destroy you both if they knew what you were. The GA would dissect your sorry ass, and you know it!"

Lynda said nothing, only glaring at her with a blood gaze.

"What's in store for you? In this coming attack on Exegol? Say you survive? Now what? Not gonna be much but a few scant Mawites left. And when those are gone? GA is gonna be looking to trim the fat, if you catch my meaning. They may need you now, but when they don't, they'll cast you out. Like a leper. (Ahead of the curve: 700 XP)."

"I'll deal with the consequences. I ain't got much of a life these days anyhow. Part of me suspects I won't mind dying if it comes to it. At least the images in my head will stop." Lynda replied, wincing as her murdered pets played out in her mind.

"Well, as it stands, I personally, happen to be a huge fan of your work." The Parliament said. "And I want to make you an offer. Join with House Io."

Lynda laughed. "You're serious? After all the chit you have pulled?"

"Why not?"

"You're a terrorist!"

"A description that could easily be applied to you. You've just been showing more discretion in your choice of victim. But your violent delights will soon be over with the Maw..."

"There's always the Sith Empire."

"The one that I told them they would never get rid of. And just like I predicted, they were back in half a decade. A new monster to feel heroic while defeating. Or an old one. We're practically their job security at this point, it's so pathetic..." The Parliament snorted.

"Why the hell would I wanna join you? You betrayed my trust! You used my mother's knowledge, the very programming and technology that created me to make your wretched army!"

"Don't call your own nieces and nephews, my children, wretched..." The Parliament replied in a low key, dangerous tone. "They helped prevent the destruction of Sev Tok, Korriban and Tython alike. They assisted in the Destruction of two different superweapons. It was us that smuggled a Nuke into The Avatar of war, and one of ours who detonated it. Us. No one else. Even the Mandalorians didn't get as far as we did." The Parliament snapped. "If you only knew what it ended up costing me, personally..."

"You've spent the last decade murdering innocent people daily. I'm not like you. The lives I have taken? I try to remember who the real enemy is..." Lynda spat, hand gripping her sword tighter. "Any collateral kills was due to being too close to the enemy, or not being able to be certain who was an enemy and who wasn't. Fog of war chit..."

"They won't care about such nuance. They're puritans. Everybody's gotta be squeaky clean, or victory means nothing to them." The Parliament countered. "You have no future amongst them. They let you get away with butchering Mawites, but it will be different with a Sith Empire. They have to look good in comparison to a Sith Empire, or the stupid-ass public that has the memory of a fethin' Tach Monkey starts that annoying whine about what-makes-you-any-different? Watch. It'll be like clockwork."

"It does beg the question though. What does make you any different?" Lynda asked, scowling.

"I have created a society that can tell these bastards no. What use would a Jedi be in House Io? We right our own wrongs. We do as we please. Even the lowliest citizen can tell me to to my face to go to hell and not be punished for it. Even the Janitors can murder a Soldier easily. All it takes is a little sacrifice, a little wrath..." The Parliament replied with a casual shrug, the light of the Unholy purple flame dancing on the surface of rotting sulphur orbs for eyes that had no pupils.

"You would be happy amongst us. We could be a family again."

Lynda blinked back bloody tears of anguish and heartbreak. At that moment, she hated The Cult of The Brain Demon more than she hated the Maw.

"And what of my Mother?"

The Parliament sighed.

"If you could persuade her never to betray me again, I would overlook her treachery this one time. But House Li-Ves must never battle House Io again."

Lynda frowned.

"Even in my madness, I will not make my family subservient to yours."

"Who said anything of subservience? I want you as partners. Openly. You're a House full of monsters like we are. Why not own up to it, at long last. You know you will be driven out of their corner the moment they figure out you're a vampire, that your whole house is filled with vampires. They'll never separate you from your food source. They cannot or will not compartmentalize as we do."

The Parliament rose from her stone throne, immaculate and pale.

"Your skills as a killer would be celebrated. And I have missed you so..." The Parliament trailed. "We were inseparable once. We created a race, you, Vera, and I. A race that revels in war as you do. Stop fighting it. Choose to be happy..."

Lynda gave no response, lip trembling. The Parliament had touched on every last doubt she had been having the past few months. She was still suspicious that the GA had bombed her along with The Maw warlord she had been fighting.

"And if I say no?"

"Then you and the rest of House Li-Ves are free to stay out of our way. I don't need to be distracted by your efforts to atone." The Parliament replied.

She sighed. "Tell you what. Sleep on it. As a token of my good will I present to you a gift. For your coming battle. There will be many Sith on Exegol. The Dark Side shall be strong there."

A boiling black portal opened to her left and a group of witches in white catsuits marched out, carrying a set of dark vambraces and a Katana.

"Something from our private treasures, and something stolen from Jedha...The Burning Hatred." The Parliament explained. "I assume you can supply the armor..."

"Why should I accept this?" Lynda asked. "For all I know, you might have cursed these things."

"I despise such methods. I prefer someone choose to fight beside me willingly. Besides, if we must fight, I must know once and for all who is the greater swordfighter. I cannot do that by cheating."

The witches retreated back to the portal.

"You know...you inspired me." The Parliament confessed. "You were a monster that was at peace with it, whether you knew it or not, when I met you. When we butchered the Sith Mythos brought to Atrisia. We were both weapons...such grace, such conviction. It's become a living hell, hasn't it?" The Parliament asked, approaching through purple flames. Lynda went on guard.

"Are we truly so different? We are both products of egomaniacs playing God..." The Parliament observed, a disturbing expression that resembled almost pleading.

"You're one of a kind. More advanced than even Vera herself possibly. So was I. I have grown beyond my limits. You could too."

The image of The Parliament, her throne, and the lake of purple flames vanished, leaving Lynda alone in the dark cave...

Present...

Forbidden District...

A falling Maw ship was always a sign of her arrival. No one ever figured out how she kept boarding Maw Vessels.

Only that a small ship, usually a gunship, would suddenly tumble out of the sky and violently crash into the most concentrated groups of Maw, already causing a violent mess.

A terrible blade of burning oranges ripped open the Hull, and the Demon of Jedha's blood curdling roar made curious Mawites just instantly start shooting as Lynda burst out of the ship, flying in a dark, hoplite armor, a side effect of using these Alchemized vambraces rendering her skin corpse pale and her eyes two orbs of pale white, like golf balls.

She dived for them, the Katana known as Burning Hatred contemptuously tearing through Mawite scum's armor.

KILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILL--

Her malfunctioning database ran this singular command in her head over and over as she started to butcher her way to the shipyards...

 

[Primarion Hiperius]

"Even if we win today, there will be no peace tomorrow. No rest. This war is eternal and victory will become reality once our bones are swept away like dust in the wind. Does that make me fight less hard? Is it diminishing my determination? No. The opposite is the case. It reinforces my defiance, my will to stand up and prevail. I was made for it and I will forever strife to achieve it."


Imperator of the First Legion
<Aegis-1-Actual>
Armor | Weapon


Final Eclipse - Annihilation of Exegol
Imperial Ground Assault - Operation Anvil

Exegol - Sith Citadel - SE Titan District - Final Dawn Factory

Post 2
Allies: Aron Gowrie , Nukth Kelga'an, Laine Gowrie , FN-999
Opposition: Eschara Ren, Marlon Sularen

Force Commander of Strike Force Grammaton
Vandemarian Shield Legions
Skytrooper Cohorts

Would he have changed direction if he would have known that the imperial main force would direct their attention into the opposite direction he was going? Would it make a difference to the assessment he made? In retrospective, Primarion would say no to this. He trusted his troops more than the allies and he needed to resupply and reform them to reestablish a proper fighting unit which could conduct offensive operations.

Primarion stepped through the rubble of the district, his unit resting for a few minutes so the unaltered could catch breath. He had sent out some scouts to elevated positions to warn them in case of incoming enemies as the attacks have died down, not so much that the district was clear, but they were right now not engaged. So the towering figure in his scorched golden cuirass walked through the sitting ranks of his improvised company, he saw the hands of hardened battle veterans shiver in their stormtrooper armour, Legionaries checked on their ammo and energy supplies. The Imperator walked towards the ruin of a wall, shot through dozens of times with varying caliber weapons, joining the Death Trooper who conversed with one of the Legionary officers.

The Legionary offered a nod when he noticed the tall warrior close in, the Death Trooper just offered a silent stare from behind his black lenses. Primarion did not see any benefit in sticking to rank etiquette during a heated battle, it would not save anyone and served no-one.

"The cults are kinda withdrawing, they will make space for another wave."

The Death Trooper seemed neither tired nor stressed, very serious. Admirable for an unaltered in this situation. But he also implied some action, the statement was not with a further motive and intention.

"Indeed, Sergeant. Get them up again, we take the moment of breathing to get to the landing zone." While saying it quite calmly, it was an order, direct and clear.

The Death Trooper and Legionary both nodded and turned around to rise the soldiers, with some moaning, clanking of armour plates and some aye, ayes. The soldiers were winded and worn down, their armour cracked and weapons nearly empty. But they were not broken. Far from it. There is no time for it and because they are veterans, they know it. If they falter now, if they make mistakes, they will die here and now. It is only death or triumph, there is no middle-ground today.

Commanders closer to the troops they commanded and those who were more empathic and emotional would offer an inspiring speech at some point, maybe even now to boost morale. But Primarion was not such a commander. He was not selected for his inspiring personality or great social skills - he is leading by example, he is leading from the front and he is commanding efficiently. Thats it. The troops feel it, something greens and recruits would not actually, they feel his confidence and they appreciate this form of leadership more than a pompous speech. So instead, he is doing.

So he would now. He led the way, stepping ahead in a moderate pace which would make the unaltered have to be jogging along the others. Primarion led them through ruins of buildings, cracked by bombings and direct fire, over streets which had holes big enough to hide a tank and finally into a large factory complex which was surprisingly unscathed aside from the outside. Inside the main hall they found that a single bombed had punched a clean hole into the roof and shattered much of the interior.

Yet something was odd here. They were less than half a klick away from the landing zone, it was right on the other side of the factory and usually when the goal came close to grab, it would evade the last step and instead blow up.
The factory was, after a second look, incredibly well intact. What seemed as major damage by the explosives of the bomb seemed to be more shatters of floor and some small pieces of equipment, but big machines would have a lot more parts laying around and much more debris in the hall, while also some big wreckage would be left to see. But there was none. The factory seemed almost empty.

The unit slowly entered the building and by a hand gesture Hyperius had singled them to be on alert. His superior senses picking up something. Slowly they spread out, their weapons ready as they looked for an enemy they neither saw nor heard, only made aware of by their leader. Sabatons cracked glass shards into a million pieces, the sound softly echoing through the large hall.

Primarion acted before the others were capable of a reaction, his movement blurred as he sprinted forward, mere milliseconds later the others reacted, the Stormtroopers, unaltered as they were, last, a handful of them killed before actually given a chance.

In the aftermath the Imperator would estimate that the ambushers were not planning their attack, it was a coincidence in the chaos and confusion of the massive assault going on. Judging by some crates and the empty factory, they were evacuating equipment when they spotted the imperial company heading for them and decided to use the opportunity instead of running away.

The blade of his spear blocked the first blaster bolt aimed at him. He saw that the origin of the bolt, a savage looking soldier in a kind of stormtrooper armour, was quite surprised that his target was moving before he did and especially that it blocked the initial attack. The surprise on his exposed face was the last image Primarion had from the attacker before the mono-molecular blade sliced cleanly through the torso, bisecting the Mawite. He did not stop or slow down then and there.

From several sides, from behind fake walls the Mawites assaulted the company, resulting in an intense melee fight with weapons fired at point blank, blades being crossed and brutal close combat. The Legionaries were decently protected and their improved reaction times were enough to stay on par with the attackers, overwhelming them through pure strength and endurance.
The Stormtroopers were not so fortunate, they got notion of something going on the moment it started happening and while their drill was quite good, it was difficult to compete with the altered who had improved reflexes and senses. Several of them were gunned down right at the beginning, the enemy apparently aiming for the weaker links.

Hyperius cut through several of the ambushers in an equal amount of seconds, his mighty warspear never stopping its fluent motion. It was the first bleeding, its baptism of fire just as Primarions. But he was not thinking about it, not thinking at all to be fair. He functioned, his muscles responded to the situation as he was trained for many years, day by day, he directed his efforts with maximum efficiency. For any viewer it would be a stunning view. It looks like a proper dance, a fluid single motion of a massive golden titan.

His motion was first stopped when the blade of his halberd was actually parried by a savage looking blade, glowing red. The Knyght of the Maw was apparently the commander of these troops and engaging the mighty champion of the Hegemony.

Primarion did not hesitate or react to the parry in any way except for continuing his attack, adjusting his focus to a more competent opponent. The Knyght was a lumbering brute with a massive broadsword in thick armour, the beast of a man was certainly trying to amplify himself with the Force to overpower the Imperator, but the disturbance of the Force Dead was decisively interfering with that and distracting the focus. It was the ace every of the Grand Legion would have against the mutated and it was one of the components which ended this fight swiftly.

After the blade was parried, it directly came back to a vertical strike which moved diagonally down, using the momentum to crash the end of the staff, an eagles head, onto the shoulder of the Knyght, landing the first hit and luring a deep roar from the Mawite. He tried to follow up with a heavy swing, powerful, but lacking technique and focus, which Primarion blocked and countered with a relatively simple stab towards the Knyghts thigh, opening armour and flesh. It immediately smelled of burned skin, the plasma filament cauterising the wound with its intense heat. It angered the Mawite warrior even more, but he was not able to express this anymore, while trying another powerful strike, the Legionaries foulte danced back and forth two times, cutting through an arm and leaving a deep gash in the chest. The mutated warrior was staring in surprise as he seemed not to believe what just happened.

But Primarion did not give him the honour of even looking or remaining with him, continuing the fight which had now decisively turned in the imperials favour. The Legionaries pushing the enemies back through their simple stubbornness. They took losses, not only the Stormtroopers, but the Legionaries as well. Ultimately they were evened up in the number of casualties, as the Stormtroopers showed a better understanding of cover and evasion than the brutes of the first legionaries who relied heavily upon their armour and improved resilience. More than two dozen overall were dead, including the Death Trooper Sergeant who took with him another of the murderous Knyghts.

He heard the breathing, the groaning and then the shouting of one of the Legionaries who suffered minor wound from a sword at his side. He was raging. Squinting behind the blue lenses of his helmet, Primarion was ready as he approached the warrior who seemed to be losing it. Was this the issues Aurelian had talked about? He was still two dozen paces away when the stupid met the failure. The Imperial Knight had approached the Legionary and tried to calm him which put events in motion for which Primarion was too far away to prevent.

In the matter of a second, the Legionary had punched the Knight, shattering every bone in his face, killing him instantly. But this did not calm the Legionary who started to aim at the corpse he had just produced. Before his finger was pulling the trigger completely back, the weapon was falling to the ground, two hands still holding it. A blink of an eye later, the head of the Legionary followed. Primarion stood next to the two corpses, one still falling and looked around, sure of a situation which resembled that of a powder keg.

"Back in line, proceed towards the landing zone. Immediately." Primarions speakers were set on a slightly louder than necessary setting, trying to bring across a tone which would not tolerate the slightest of doubt or hesitation.

And they did, moving on. But the sour taste in the mouth of both the Legionaries and Stormtroopers remained.

​

 

[Felix Astermo]

Forbidden District Outskirts - Airfield
Writing With: Thelma Goth​

She had keener senses than most, this one - but then she was Connected. She wielded a monstrous blade of burning plasma. Plasma that was, for whatever reason, pink. Still, she reeked of inexperience. That made her prey.

"What - brave prey - you are." The voice was heavily accented and the words' cadence was all wrong, as if the speaker only barely managed to figure out the proper order. Having gone back to fetch a tool upon being noticed, Marrow emerged onto the aircraft's roof bearing a man in uniform, the body twitching as if sleeping restlessly.

"Catch." Without further ado, he flung the man at the prey with enough force that he would likely die unless caught. That is if it were not for the fact that he was already dead and husked. It was time to test the prey's senses.

Trusting in that to distract her - one way or another - he hefted a durasteel pipe and leapt down from his perch.

 

[Rayden Helonus]

A R B I T R A T O R
TAGS - Ichika Masudo
EQUIPMENT - In Bio

He Who Devoured The Dark

Darth Sullene. The Lord of the Hord district of Jutrand.

Finally within reach.

Rayden had set his sights on the Dark Lord ever since his return from Faldos, ever since he'd eaten his fill from the artefact. It had been an... eye opening experience, to put it mildly. The aspiring Sith could feel it in his very constitution, the added power; it turned his blood to liquid fire, the air he breathed to ash, the Dark Side flowing through him with that much more potency. It was if he'd been letting it in through a mere doorway before, but had opened the floodgates since.

As his power grew, so too did his ambition. Korriban and Dromund Kaas were his destiny, but he wasted himself doing nothing to establish a powerbase in the meanwhile. Though, he had to admit, it was almost poetic; he had come with Sullene to Exegol as an ally, and would his corpse. The Dark Lord was an arrogant fool and a honourless warrior, it had taken Rayden little effort to persuade the lord to join him in hunting a legendary Mawite warrior- though, perhaps the Mawite warrior was closed to myth, since he was nothing more than a few meaningless words.

It was almost poetic. Poems exaggerated the climax, commanded the assassin to declare his intent right before his blade struck true- Rayden suffered no such compulsion. Drawing his lightsaber, he fixed his eyes on Sullene's back; he did not see his amethyst blade till it had burnt a hole through the fool's chest, a smouldering absence where his heart ought to be.

Rayden's hand clutched the dead man by the shoulders, his hand alone holding him up, as he pulled the body in. "Give my regards to your predecessor, fool." he said, releasing his grip on the dark lord's shoulders and flicking his blade clear. He let the body fall limp onto the cold ground, the bare insult the only truly poetic aspect of the Dark Lord's demise.

The Sith Lord stepped away from the body, holding out his hand as he compelled the sand and dirt beneath his feet to shift. Within seconds, the body was pulled into the ground, a crude burial. Rayden hadn't the time to relish his effortless victory, to savour the taste of the ancient, dark planet on his tongue before he was interrupted.

A transport shuttle flew overhead, a thing of little concern judging by the markings on it. He was no soldier, but even he could recognise the markings of the Galactic Alliance; the glaring pulse of the Light Side nagged at him, following the shuttle as it made to set down not unreasonably far from him.

Perhaps he would find a worthy opponent, yet.
​

​

 

[Tegan Starfall]

You Will Witness My Destruction!​

Post: 2
Location: Abandoned Carnival, Forbidden District Outskirts
Objective: Soldiers
Equipment: x2 Lightsabers | x2 Frag Grenades | Utility Belt | A-180 blaster | Defender (on Nails)
Enemies: Everyone
Allies: No One
Tags: Jand Talo | Corazona von Ascania | Val Drutin | Darth Malum of House Marr | Dominik Borra

---

Tegan stopped in her tracks her eyes where on the mad one Val Drutin who was seemingly talking to himself questioning and yelling no at nothing. At least she talked to inanimate objects when in the throes of madness, he was just plain crazy. However it wasn't his madness that stopped her in her tracks it was a voice that stopped her stalking the mentally ill man. A voice off to the side of her and with a quick motion and slight craning of her neck she swooped around to face. A man with crap translator that was speaking very guttural Dathomiri at best. Though it didn't matter what it was saying she very much could understand the basic from the boy sith Darth Malum of House Marr . Though she said nothing letting the silence linger as she stared at him with her sulfuric orange glowing eyes. Her head turned side to side just watching him as she didn't say word but let out a little giggle. "Hehehe" as he mentioned an Emperor.

She had to wonder which one this one was, she had seen so many in her days. She even remembered the days of everyone and even their mothers claiming to be the Dark Lord and Emperor. A meaningless title just as useless as the title of Mand'alor. Words that had lost there meaning and weight because anyone could claim it if they wanted to. "Tu'iea kal uud nie midwan prie nun. Tu'iea kal uud nie midwan stai." She spoke to him in the ancient tongue of the sith telling him his Emperor had no power over her or over this place. "Tu'iea aeuso kash dust." She continued to tell him his Empire was dust her tone oddly soft and sweet sounding, not something one would expect to come from the wild little monster that seemingly stood before him. Her sith was impeccable and nearly flawless even though she didn't speak it much these days that was because it was her first language.

"I also do not service the Maw for it is dust as well." She finally spoke in basic though there was of her sith accent. "Who is your Emperor these days Darth Carnifex or one of his pathetic offspring? I knew Carnifex's master when he was a wee lil sith whelpling. It was his master's master that branded me a traitor and exiled me from the sith." Tegan began start to move like she was going to start circling the young sith. "Or maybe it's Darth Maliphant or what ever title they gave themselves this week. The one who refused Kaggath with Darth Solipsis proving he was weak. Then again I could name hundred more who claimed the title with no weight behind the words." She continued to move around the man watching him see him he would fallow her with his eyes. Her movements slithery like a snake and her teeth just as venomous. She wanted to see if he would get enraged as she insulted that which he represented.

"The Maw will die today but the Galaxy will never forget when the Maw destroyed your weak precious Empire. It may have returned but it's still lead by the same weak leadership destined to become ash again. It did not learn and it will never learn until the rot is removed. Then again that is the folly of all great sith Empires." As she moved around him, she raised her arms in the air in jest at the Sith's false greatness, lifting in the air mockingly praising them to the sky above. "They are constantly led by the same idiots that drive them into the ground. You are just one of their sheep, Bah, Bah! Blindly following them over the edge of the inevitable cliff." She continued to circle though the mad one Val Drutin was very close by, no doubt able to hear what they were saying to each other. "I was branded a traitor by the sith a long time ago, I would not kneel and bend to their will, I stabbed them in the back like a real sith would. I was a leader in the Maw and I watched the sith's great empires fall at the Maw's hand. I doubt the sith order…" She spit on the ground at the name. "…Would ever be glad to see me because I am a force they can not control. I am the Psycho Witch'ari and Sith'ari before that, Darth Sokar the God of Destruction. How about instead you renounce the sith and join me child we can build a new Empire?" She was half joking about building an Empire as she already had a plan in place that wouldn't allow that to happen but sometimes fate intervened and changed plans.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

LIGHTPOINT STATION
Asmundr Varobalder Darth Empyrean

“Promise me,” His voice dipped quieter than its usual baritone, “that you will not allow fear to win over you today.”

"You told me this station amplifies what's in my heart," Zark leaned closer, "With Lightforge in the heavens above, how could I?"

He allowed Asmundr to pull him into a last embrace. Strong arms enveloped him even adorned as Master San Tekka was in the Jedi warrior's ancestral cuirass. It had been ever thus between them since Korriban. Losing so many to this long and bitter war made connection difficult but theirs was effortless just as if they'd always known each other.

"Even the wisest cannot see all ends. Perhaps our destiny is yet to be written."

Zark wanted to believe that was true, yet Master Varobalder's admission troubled him. Of all the oracles he'd ever known no one's gift was stronger. Cosmic forces were not meant to be trifled with lightly. Supernatural catastrophes on other worlds had reduced their gifts in many ways to just another weapon in each side's arsenal. A great disturbance warned him these final shared moments together were about to run out.

"Look to the Force," he murmured in Asmundr's ear, "And you will always find me."

 

[Xiveros]

​

Location: Exegol | Forbidden District
Target: Kinoan

War
​

Their stink tainted this planet, things walking about that ought to crawl. Imperfect, unloved, misshapen; Xiveros despised those that called themselves Maw, Their spawn were something like broken kin to the plate-clad enforcer, all their incessant snarling and frothing at the mouth only further proving the necessity of their extermination. One by one, Xiveros crushed their twisted bones and putrid flesh, his shield being used as a secondary weapon rather than a means of protection as he worked through a staggering number of beasts and loyalists alike.

For all he could cause in the name of destruction, Xiveros found himself taking somewhat of a beating during the midst of such brutality. Glancing blows from lightsabers, the very claws of abominations piercing his armor as they chanced upon their better. During this bloodshed he'd almost forgotten about the very thing that has been consuming his mind in recent times, his very existence and the question of his memories - dreams and thoughts still so unfamiliar, yet they reside in his subconscious somewhere deep down. Only made known to him as glints in the dark.

Only through the shock of his mace connecting with tissue and teeth could he remain lucid and steadfast, he would use this frustration as a fuel to aid him in carrying out the Sith's whims and dirty work. There were no number of corpses that could ever satiate the endless hunger of the Sith and their campaign for an end; their craft was one of deception and might, twisting threads to tangle and knot, weaving their own realities from the misery and blood of all in their wake.

And for all their meddling around, they had birthed a bringer of judgement and balance. Unbiased, unburdened.

There was only the Force.

As Xiveros found himself clear of an immediate threat, his gaze would fall upon Kinoan

His stance calmed and steadied, mace pointed in the man's direction. "You will do."