[First Order] Raid at Virgilia

[Progflaw99]

Virgilia, Equatorial Ridge
[Theme]​

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[img source: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Y4lGb]​

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Location: Base of the Edenbowe Range, Near the Equator​

Time: Afternoon​

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The scene was one of natural serenity, lush jungle and thundering waterfall adding to the ambient noise as a light breeze cut through the warm air. Virgilia was a warm planet by nature, its jungles teeming with life both innocent and devious. Among the forests were patches of several immigrated species to include Vonrskr and Ysalamiri. Dangerous if one weren't careful. The small stealth vessel had been investigating the planet for a full day before finally deciding to enter its atmosphere, dipping low as fast as its engines could carry it. Slipping in between a pair of mountain peaks, the odd shaped ship descended further, coming to rest in a small clearing at the base of one of the mountains. It's hull was rounded, the bridge of the craft just above the nose. Below, near the bottom of the ship, a boarding ramp. It was a strange design, likely unrecognizable to anyone who might have managed to get a visual.

The craft's main drive array decrescendo'd to a low hum before going fully offline. With a hydraulic hiss and a loud clunk the boarding ramp lowered, the dim lighting inside the craft obscuring any view of the interior. A series of guttural noises could be heard from inside and then movement. Heavy footsteps plodded on the presumably durasteel boarding ramp, the occupant's form now in full view. Hesitantly at first, it sniffed the air, two tendril-like, forked tongues emerging from its nostrils. The tendrils seemed to float in the air, tepidly tasting and smelling the new environment, then just as suddenly they retracted, disappearing within the creature's elongated snout. The saurian's reptilian flesh shimmered a dull gold color in the sunlight beating down on the small clearing. Behind the first of the saurians, several more appeared, all varying shades of gold. These were the priests of the Ssi-Ruuk, devoted to their religious text, the G'nnoch.

All standing at minimum around 1.85 meters tall, the reptilian bipeds made their way from the ship's interior, forming a small circle, their tails outward. Swaying slightly they began to make a series of chittering noises and low howls deep in their throats. Their feet began to stamp the ground, tails swinging and moving in tune with their bodies as the creatures voices began to form together into a dissonant chorus. This.. this was the Consecration Ceremony, a deeply religious undertaking for the Priests. In performing this ritual, the planet would become consecrated ground...

Location: In Orbit of Virgilia, Near the Bastion of Ren​

Time: Dusk, Day after Consecration of Virgilia​

[Theme]​

The ships had materialized out of thin air. High above the planet of Virgilia an assault fleet blinked into existence, first one, then three, then ten; the ships seemed to keep coming. At the center of the now appearing fleet was a particularly large pod shaped vessel, aboard its bridge a collection of creatures but only one commanded the presence of the room. Much like the creatures who had made a foray to the surface the day prior it stood bipedal, large claws and talons on its reptilian hands and feet. Another saurian, but this one held a much darker hue than his priest brethren, a deep blue. Sharp eyes glared from beneath invisible eyelids, the Ssi-Ruu at the center of the bridge opening his jagged toothed maw.

His voice, a series of clicks and shrill whistles, echoed across the bridge.

"Begin."​

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A flurry of movement occurred aboard the ship, other Ssi-Ruuk and their slaves, the smaller P'w'eck, began their descent towards the planet of Virgilia. Breaking off, a large chunk of the fleet descended towards the atmosphere of Virgilia, their target: The Bastion of Ren. Virgilia, according to their scouts, was mostly uninhabited but it had been discovered that an order of Force Users seemed to have set up a base of sorts on the planet. Ssi-Ruuk historians and scientists had long hinted at the possibility of enteching people remotely via force users, this was an excellent opportunity to test those theories, all they needed to do was capture one or more of these 'Ren' they'd heard whispers about. Sisarun, the ambitious leader of these Ssi-Ruuk would not let the opportunity pass him by. Communicating via long range comms he began a transmission, the language likely indecipherable even if it was to be intercepted. A guttural roar followed by harsh shrieks and trilling filled the bridge of the Ssi-Ruuk Battle Cruiser.

:: We have begun our assault. I will report again soon. ::​

​

The transmission was beamed across space towards Skye. Its recipient would be nearly at the same point in their execution of the Keeramak's orders.

Rapidly the ships deployed towards the surface, spreading out along the base of the mountainous terrain near the Bastion of Ren. They would have to ascend its height to reach their prey but they would be doing so under the cover of night when their senses were at their peak. Ssi-Ruuk were exceptional hunters, their superior sense of smell making them a most formidable opponent. Their plan was simple, overwhelm the defenses and capture as many force users as possible, returning them to the manufacturing ships where they would entech them, releasing them to their scientists for experimentation.

As the ships landed several km away from the base of the "Path of Jagged Stones", their full complements began unloading, saurian bodies spilling from the vessels like millions of ants come to defend their colony, or perhaps in this case to take care of a nearby one. Rapidly and gracefully the bipeds slithered their way into the forest, these saurians a dull brown in color, smaller than their Ssi-Ruuk masters. These were the P'w'eck, the Ssi-Ruuk using them as front-line troops, easily thrown at an enemy with no thought for their lives. They would overrun them, the sheer numbers of troops now spreading into the forest incomprehensible.

With the swiftness granted to their species despite their large size, the P'w'eck rushed through the foliage, streaking towards where they knew the force users to be. Sirsarun himself along with a small crack unit of Ssi-Ruuk soldiers of the Warrior Caste began their trek as well. Their red scales and muscular body designating them apart from Sirsarun's blue and the P'w'eck's muddy color.

Thinking to himself briefly, Sirsarun wondered if he should deploy the battle droids yet... perhaps he should have but he could not waste their enteched energy just yet. He would wait to play his cards at the right time. Tonight they would prepare, waiting till the darkest moment of the night before they struck. Then they would make their move.

Ssi-Ruuvi Forces

Spoiler

Ssi-Ruuk Fleet

1 x Shree-class Battle Cruiser
5 x Sh'ner-class Planetary Assault Carrier
3 x Lwhekk-class Manufacturing Ships
6 x Wurrif-class Light Cruisers
20 x Fw'Sen-class Picket Ships
36 x D'kee-class Landing Ships
1700 x Swarm-class Battle Droids

Ssi-Ruuk Ground Forces

300 x Ssi-Ruuk Troops
Equipped with:
Updated Ssi-ruuvi Ion Paddle Beamers
Standard Blaster Rifles

22400 x P'w'eck slaves
Equipped with:
Shock/Control Harnesses
Teeth, Talons, Claws

7,500 x battle droids
Equipment Unknown

 

[Wolf]

Falling. Wolfgang Krieger was falling through the air, body entwined with a Dark Lord of ages past. They twisted and turned through the air, his hands pushing down on her wrists to prevent her lightsabers from cutting into him. He growled as he felt her blades sear into his flesh, his body on fire and burning with pain. He snarled and placed his hand on her chest, to restart her heart and end this once and for all. The Force ran through his hand and into her body, sending a wave through her that was intended to finally kill her, or so the theory went.

His eyes widened in horror as her expressions remained unchanged, and he could only gasp as he felt her blades cut right through him, sawing him in half. Unbearable pain took him as let go of her and fell, watching in horror as the ground beneath him swirled and turned, the durasteel floor morphing into an unending abyss of black and void. He yelled out as the shadows took him, and his body hurtled at faster and faster speeds. Flickers of light flew past him as his vision was encompassed in black. He cried out as he finally saw a metal platform emerge beneath him, a speck at first that grew larger and larger. He shut his eyes tight as his body made collision, his bones cracking and shrieking at the impact.

He opened his eyes to find himself lying immobile in pain on the same metal platform he had jumped from. The Dark Lord was here, again. She was not dead. She looked over him, and he felt as though he could see the faintest of smiles. Wolf looked to his right and left, struggling for breath as he saw corpses strewn around him. His heart sank in horror. His fellow Knights of Ren, Samka Derith, and Thresh Sken, the trooper Kierel, were laying around him, their bodies motionless and their eyes devoid of life. They had failed, and the entire galaxy would pay for it. He watched with dread as the Dark Lord waved her hand, the crystals in the centre of the platform glowing with crimson light. His last few breaths, his last few moments, would be in witness to his utter failure to help anyone. The room was bathed in red as the Omega weapon fired, his body scorched with fire and heat. He felt the burning heat incinerate his entire body, his body encompassed by unspeakable pain.

The Knight of Ren woke up in pain and horror as his vision was shrouded in black, and felt his body covered by sickly crawling creatures, which bit and tore into his flesh. He had fallen asleep, staying up into the late hours reading an old Imperial tome. And for a man who wore orbalisks, that was a potentially fatal mistake. One would require a helmet and gloves whenever they slept, to prevent the sickening creatures from covering the entire body and suffocating their host. Wolf yelled out in muffled cries as the orbalisks covered him from head to toe, with a large one clutching his face.

The Knight was a frightful figure now on his bed as he rolled off onto the floor in terror, his orbalisk-encrusted body writhing in pain. He could not breathe as the orbalisk clutched to his face tightly, and his hands came up to his face in frantic desperation to try and prise the creature off. He found that he could not grab anything with his hands, however, as they too were covered by the hard shells of orbalisks, his fingers contorted and forced together by the creatures. The Dark Side raged and swirled around him, his body pumped with adrenalin and enzymes by the creatures as he writhed in pain, his dark presence growing larger as he struggled. His anger and frustration only rose, and his power with it as he banged his shell-encrusted fist to the ground in rage.

His mind pleaded with him to remain calm, and to start thinking straight. In his panic he initially could not comprehend what was happening, but he had to remember where he was and the sacrifice he had made to regain his ability to walk. The alchemised orbalisks would co-operate with him, if only he could regain his composure. The Knight's body grew still, his mind struggling to achieve calm as his body was taken by pain and his lungs quickly ran out of oxygen. His eyes closed as he calmed himself down, his mind reaching out to the Force to ease him. He then reached out to the orbalisks, directing them to move back down his body. Nothing seemed to happen for a few moments, but then they reluctantly began to recede. These orbalisks were not his servants, but their symbiotic relationship meant one required the other to live, and the alchemisation that had been carried out on them made them more amenable to Wolf's will.

Wolf gasped for breath as the crustacean on his face moved back down his body, his chest heaving as air filled his lungs once more. The orbalisks along him all began to recede back to his centre, their shapes contorting and becoming thinner. He struggled to his feet, his mind disoriented as he stumbled across the room. His body throbbed with pain, the orbalisks still feeding on him, but to a great degree less than previously. It was a high price to pay to regain his ability to walk, but the benefits they provided were great and varied. He sat on his bed, panting in sweat as he regained his composure. How could he have been so careless?

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt a flicker in the Force. A disturbance. He soon forgot about what had just happened as his mind reached out to sense his surroundings. Was there something approaching the perimeter of the Bastion? He got to his feet to put on his robes and boots, before leaving his living quarters, the lightsaber of Kylo Ren resting reassuringly at his belt. His orbalisks were concealed from view, not that visual concealment would prevent Force sensitives from naturally feeling the sickly dark presence that clung onto Wolf's body wherever he went. Wolf paced through the corridors and towards the front of the Bastion, if there was something coming then he trusted that those on watch duty would have sensed them before he did. The Knight of Ren stepped out of the entrance of the Bastion and into the night breeze, standing atop the grand stairs that led into the fortress. He looked out over the surroundings of the mountain, his mind troubled.

"Invaders! Invaders, Wolf!" A young Disciple was running up the stairs, his face pale as he sprinted. "Ships were spotted landing not far from here near, and they are making their way up the mountain towards the Bastion as we speak." Wolf's face was expressionless, looking down at the young man.

"Alert the others. Let us show our visitors they have made a grave mistake."

 

[Progflaw99]

Turning another page...

He thought about that for a moment. Most records had been transcribed into electronic format hundreds of years ago and yet, some handwritten texts remained. It was a lost art, or at the very least an unpracticed one. Castor had done his fair share of reading, both of handwritten text as well as electronic reading via datapad. Truthfully, he preferred the handwriting. Something about the subtle curves of the letters, the way the sentences flowed and you could feel the energy with which the writer was pulling from. When they were on the cusp of something profound, the letters would get slightly smaller and closer together. A wry smile crossed the Disciples features.

He had always preferred to do his reading at night, when the noise and general hubbub at the Bastion had died down for the evening. Even now a small candle flickered on the small desk in his sparse quarters. The Bastion of Ren had been build not only into the side of a mountain but had become the mountain itself. Castor had been there for some time, his journey as a disciple longer than most however it also meant he had more time to see the rise and fall of many of his peers. A frown tugging at the corners of his lips brought him back to the present. His eyes narrowed, he could have sworn he had heard a disturbance in the halls. Castor set the small leather tome on the desk, putting the small leather tassel across the page he was reading before closing it. The solitary candle flickered as a small draft passed through the room. It was one downside to building a fortress inside a mountain, especially one as deep as the Bastion, there was always a draft as the ventilation system forced oxygen through its interior.

The dark wooden chair Castor had been sitting in squeaked softly as he rose. Dark robes were brushed aside as he stood his full height, stretching the muscles in his lower back. He'd lost track of the time, how long he'd been sitting there simply reading he couldn't recall. Taking a few steps towards the small door to his quarters now he definitely heard something. Reaching to the door panel and activating it, he poked his head out. Along either side of the hallway were other doorways, each an exact copy of his own quarters in design. Each Disciple awarded quarters here at the Bastion of Ren was given the liberty to decorate as they saw fit. From down the long corridor he could hear a whisper. The hint of an echo from deeper within the Bastion itself but it was nothing good.

Invaders. Not good.

Swiftly ducking back into his small room Castor reached towards the rack bolted to the wall next to his bed, retrieving a heavy durasteel longsword. Throwing the leather strap of the scabbard over his shoulder, he retrieved a thick leather belt with several pouches and an ornate dagger attached to it. He had yet to embark on the journey that was the creation of a personal lightsaber. Perhaps that was one thing the Ren took from the Sith, though where the Sith seemed to prefer the saber alone, the Knights of Ren had made it clear that to rely on one weapon alone was folly. Versatility was a key teaching point and Castor had begun to learn it well. He would learn a tecnique one week, only to be defeated while using that technique in the following week by something new. They were teaching them to improvise, to push hard and not let up, to resist complacency. Silently as he exited his quarters, blade over his shoulder, he mused.

He hadn't thought much about it till now but his body was in a constant state of bruised, tired, achy, or subject to some other form of malady. He could feel a twinge of fatigue in his legs from the grueling climb they'd made up one of the nearby mountains as part of their rigid physical training regimen. As he passed the darkened entryways to others' quarters he wondered if any of the others had heard the calls or felt that something was amiss. The voice that had called out at first was now silent, Castor ceasing to hear any hint as to what exactly was going on. Reaching one of the many stairways inside the Bastion he began to make his way upwards, still listening. Step after step he began to collect himself, gather in the Force in close to him, attempting to then spread out feelers, perhaps he could discern something through the movement of the Force around him.

[member="Wolf"]​

 

[Darth Veles]

Still completely enthralled by the First Order’s Force sensitive sect and hungry for even more secrets guarded by this new, secretive group, Darth Veles had found himself in their remote outpost once more, always close to what he studied – people and books, an endless feast upon the Order of Ren. They were simply a completely new, undocumented player among the more traditional, ancient ranks, and thus the Sith Lord’s natural curiosity and thirst for knowledge left him with little more interests to pursue than observing his current allies and their ways. In the end, they were still dark side practitioners hunting after Sith artifacts and lore, often deployed on dangerous missions or battling Sithspawn, meaning the amphibious Sith has not been robbed of his usual activities.

With a faded history book in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in another, Veles read through yet another interpretation of historical accounts detailing the First Galactic Empire’s fall. Hardly surprising – with so many colourful cultures and even more viewpoints, not even the major events that had shaped the galaxy were spared inaccuracies and blatant lies in propagandistic shades. History was unfortunately written by the victors – and as such, many continued to believe in Alderaan’s destruction and Ewok victory on Endor.

But that was just ridiculous.

Veles’ webbed hands flipped through an autobiography of a certain general who had detailed the last days of Palpatine’s reign. Just as his claw prepared to turn another page, see what the man had to say about Hoth, sharp needles of danger assaulted his instincts alongside several alarmed shouts to reach his ears, resonating throughout the hallways in echoes. Did someone dare to attack the safest place on Virgillia? Disturbed from his studies, the assassin frowned, setting both objects in his hands aside. A short moment of stillness, listening to his surroundings, and he stood up, completely wrapped in a heavy, long robe that refused to reveal what weapons hid underneath. Only a fool would strike at the Ren and challenge the First Order – a fool or someone with enough backing to know success was warranted. The latter option put him on edge, fearing the Galactic Alliance’s invasion. Veles did not doubt the Bastion to be the main target – admittedly, Virgillia had little more to offer than its current kings, ruling from atop the Path of Jagged Stones.

Subtle footsteps, little more than barely audible taps on stone, indicated Veles’ brisk march through the outpost. Fortunately enough, he was a well-known figure by now, enough to not allow for mistaking the amphibious man for an enemy. The first knight of Ren to come across him received a stop from the Sith Lord’s hand that suddenly emerged from under his cloak, grabbing the human by his forearm.

“Knight. Get a group of men and search the Bastion’s premises for intruders, stealthed or not. We need to ensure the enemy isn’t already among us.”

Sporting hidden blades and living in accordance with ancient assassin ways, Veles knew the importance of sabotage all too well. Ruling out this possibility meant more resources could be devoted to defence later, without fearing nasty presents hidden among the seemingly impenetrable walls and security systems.


[member="Castor Ren"] [member="Wolf"]

 

[Isla Ashen]

Ashen Ren sat on the edge of her bed, enjoying a moment of solitude. Pale fingers reached out and gently touched the soil that sat inside a clay pot – the only adornment in her sparsely decorated room. Emerald eyes came level with the rim, she had been watering the tiny seed diligently, but there were still no signs of life. Perhaps the conditions were not quite suitable. It was true that the artificial light was not as good as that from the sun, the soil here on Virgilia differed from that of the seed’s place of origin, and just maybe she had been unknowingly drowning it in water. A slow sigh escaped her, she had lost her touch. After all, farm life was far behind her now.

She unclasped her dark cloak and shrugged it off her shoulders, revealing a tangled mess of flame-hued hair. Boots were the next layer to be removed; she inspected them for a moment. How the leather was worn, and the soles were growing thin, for they have traveled many worlds now. These simple boots had seen rain, snow, rough terrain, and they had seen blood. A faint smile appeared on her lips, and she placed her trusty companions on the ground, side by side. Her tall form reclined on the bed, relaxing just enough to let her eyes close. Isla drew in a deep breath, her hands folded across her stomach.

The sound of rushed footsteps broke the silence.

Green eyes snapped open immediately, there was a voice calling out, a warning of invaders. A wave of anxiety washed over her, making her muscles grow taught and her senses sharp. She jumped into her boots again, reached for her belt and fastened it around her waist. The saber clipped to her hip was her weapon choice, but there was a blaster for emergencies, and a hunting knife... for good luck. With her cloak secured around her shoulders once more, she pulled her door open and peeked out. The source of the voice was gone now, leaving behind only an echo of words and steps. Her shadowy figure slipped into the hallway, moving swiftly towards the exit. As she made her way, she had to wonder... who would dare to disturb the Ren?

It was time to find out. Isla could sense the presence of her brothers and sisters, and she could feel a growing presence in the distance. Long strides brought her to the edge of the cliff, not far from the Path of Jagged Stones. From beneath the fabric of her hood, her eyes narrowed slightly. There was a sinking feeling within; she could already tell that this was going to be a very long night. Her eyes pressed closed for a moment, steeling her nerves for what was to come. Tonight, the Ren would be tested. They would stand together and defend the Bastion, failure was not an option.

Spoiler

[member="Darth Veles"], [member="Castor Ren"], [member="Wolf"]

 

[Samka Derith]

All-Terran Flame-Transport, a vehicle based on the old AT-ST but equipped with flame based weaponry instead of blaster canons. Perfect for a battle beneath the forest canopy of Kashyyyk, Sam reflected as the trees burned and crumbled bringing the Wookie village above down with it.

"Wookie guerrilla fighters with demolitions counter your AT-FTs, they move unseen through the undergrowth to lay charges on your vehicles," her droid opponent said.

"No," Sam shook her head at the droid's logic. "There is no undergrowth remaining to cover their approach. I have burned everything. They are either on fire or exposed to my Stormtrooper infantry support who have deployed their FWMB-10 blasters on the ground to protect the AT-FTs from such attacks. Either way the hairy brutes are dead."

"M-Mistress, I must object!" The droid broke her immersion, pulling the Knight of Ren out of the simulated battle before her. "The goal of this exercise was to capture the Wookie village, not destroy it!"

Samka shut down the hologram coming from the desk between herself and the droid, leaving the room which had glowed with light now dark and barren. Her face now covered in shadow, she frowned at the mechanical being in front of her, "Direct capture would have resulted in mass casualties for First Order personal. The lifts and winding staircases are the only access points from the Shadowlands to the main village. They're too easy for the Wookies to defend and very likely to be trapped, as proven by the problems my scouts had with proximity bombs. The entire village is made of wood and surrounded by other flammable material. It stands to reason that the Wookies would surrender rather than have their children burn. I have captured the village. It is only partially intact but I have captured it with minimal casualties to make up for that. I think that's a worthy pay off. If they didn't surrender then I have made an example of them. I release the prisoners taken from the battle, let them spread the word and the next village we encounter will surrender."

The tactical droid stared back her with a blank, mechanical face. "I... am not programmed to take such logic into the equation. The goal of this simulation was for you to capture this village, Mistress."

Sighing, Sam got to her feet, feeling as though she had taken all that she could from this for today. She couldn't work out if she had outwitted the droid or failed utterly. "Then it seems your programming requires updating."

Pulling her cloak off a nearby hook, Samka suddenly paused. She'd been so engrossed in that mock battle that she hadn't sensed the danger suddenly screaming at her. Enemies. A lot of them. Hastily throwing the cloak over herself, Sam dashed from the room, leaving the droid sitting motionlessly alone in the dark.

Running through the Baston's corridors, she passed several disciples. Most seemed completely oblivious anything was happening, some looked confused, others worried and a few even excited. Those last ones would be the ones who died, Sam thought to herself. She kept silently going until she reached the highest point of the Baston.

The cool night air hit her immediately and the echoes of the inner sanctum vanished so only the sound of boots on the stone floor could be heard. [member="Wolf"] was already here but she looked past him into the jungle below. Scanning the horizon, it was difficult to spot anything. Not only was it dark but the jungles covered everything. She should have returned to her room first for her holobinoculars but there'd been no time.

The cry of a Drexl above caught her attention, she could see several of the predators circling the jungle in an unusual fashion. The only evidence asides from the calls from the Force that something was amiss. "The beasts are disturbed," she told Wolf. "Let's hope they kill a few of whatever is out there." They didn't need to greet each other properly, they'd known one another long enough and there was more pressing matters to attend to.

Turning to face her companion properly for the first time, Sam's expression twisted a little. "Well don't you look like something out of my seven year old self's nightmares?" Sam rested her hands on her hips as she spoke with a more serious tone, "We need to know what's down there. I'm willing to scout but..." the risk went without saying.

 

[Zef Halo]

Bastion of Ren
Minutes before Jurassic Park

Jude found himself remembering fond and cold memories of his times as a Ren disciple in his teenage years. There were many factors that led to him being shown the door and labelled as inept. The primary one was the ineptitude of Jude to learn Force powers other than what many deemed useless - the art of mentalism and tutaminis. The latter he developed out of sheer will and hard work during his career as a tech specialist in the Army. The other reason was his rebellious nature and lack of submission, it painted him as unreliable and not loyal enough to the Supreme Leader. Both reasons were factual.

Nonetheless, he grew and did not abandon his powers in the Force. Quite the opposite, Jude developed them. His weakness of not being able to delve into no more than two schools of the Force was turned into a strength as his focus and work could only be concentrated on a specific aspect. The teachers he had during his time as a disciple had not foreseen that due to their arrogance and close minded way of teaching. Yet, Jude did not remain with such opinions of the Ren, he was not a man that would generalized. He just believed it was not his fate to become a Ren. Hence, the bad teachers.

Now he was here for completely different reasons. Two, actually. Set up listening devices and deliver a cargo of charric pistols to the Order. The agent's presence within the Bastion was mostly welcomed neutrally while others seemed to see him as an uninvited guest. The Force Disperser talisman beneath his clothes concealed his presence while he had sealed his mind to the outside.

All changed when sirens blared in the corridor.

What the kark..?

[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Isla Ashen"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Wolf"]

 

[Aran Piett]

Aran was touring his new vessel he was assigned to, when an alert came over the ship wide comms. "Attention all crew, we have a code zero at Virgilia. Repeat code zero at Virgilia, 'Captain' to the bridge." With that call Aran made quick time to the bridge to take command of his vessel and lead it to Virgilia to assist any First Order forces that already where there. His "fleet" wasn't much just his Victory Class cruiser the FIV Subjugation, but his crew was well trained and in his eyes the best of the best. Upon getting to the bridge, Aran started to prep the crew for battle.​

​

"Attention all crew battlestations, repeat battlestations. I want fighters prepped and ready for launch the minute we get out of hyperspace, gun crews stand ready. Stormtroopers, you won't be heading to the planet patrol the corridors and prepare for boarders. We don't know what we are going up against so prepare for the worst."​

​

He didn't need to tell them that what they were doing was dangerous, but he also couldn't help feel a slight twinge of fear himself, not knowing anything about the enemy, how many there were, what there forces where, etc. This left the young Commander in a state of unease. It also reminded him of the stories his father would tell him about his ancestor Firmus, but Aran knew his duty and would never allow any of his men to see him in this way. ​

​

"Commander we are picking up three Inflictor Class Cruisers, and four Fortan Class Corvettes moving in to join our position, seems they were sent by Admiral Graf to assist us." ​

​

"Thank you comm officer Burke."​

​

Aran took a breath of ease a little, he was in command of multiple ships and he just got commander, but this was an extreme situation as well, so he didn't argue. Also Aran felt this was his time to show his worth and prove to the fleet and his father he could live up to the family legacy.​

​

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Spoiler

Aran Piett's Forces

1x Victory-X Class FIV Subjugator
3x Inflictor Class Heavy Cruisers
4x Fortan Heavy Corvettes

 

[Progflaw99]

His heavy footsteps had taken him from the quarters where the majority of the Disciples had been assigned through several back corridors and winding paths through the Bastion of Ren. Castor had been a disciple longer than most, for some reason he always seemed to be overlooked when it came to assignments, never truly being assigned to a Knight of Ren as was the usual. Sure they would hold group classes with instructors but he had an inkling it had to do with his age. Castor was easily around ten years older than most of the disciples, some even as many as fifteen. He wore it as a badge of honor however. In truth it gave him an edge, some experience with a blade that others had yet to learn, life lessons learned the hard way rather than being taught from the beginning, at least mostly.

He'd had a Sith Master long ago but one could hardly call the man a monster or a true Sith. Through study and indoctrination both Castor had come to identify Sith by their complete lack of loyalty except to the self. There were exceptions, but always it seemed they were more concerned with the self over the good of the majority. The Ren did not have this selfish motivation, instead replacing it with a fervor unmatched by any other organization, bound to the Supreme Leader.

Activity had begun to pick up, he noticed more knights appearing as they were roused by the sounds of alarm now that the call had been made. He could hear through the din a few knights trying to rouse several of the Disciples who hadn't yet risen. With a sneer of disgust he continued upward through the Bastion, passing several other like minded Disciples who had gathered their weapons but hadn't any idea where to go. The corner of his mouth twitching, he bid them follow him. It was a wordless gesture, a simple hand motion but two other similarly armed disciples followed him as he turned back to the winding stair. Castor recognized them, both able fighters. One of them favored a pair of hand axes, vibroblades. The other held a short leaf shaped blade. Carrying onward, he caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar face, surely the man was no Ren, perhaps he belonged to the FOSB, it was not unheard of for the Ren to work hand in hand with the security bureau. Raising an eyebrow he wondered at the man's presence but continued on his way.

Castor hadn't been able to feel much other than an overwhelming sense of foreboding when he'd reached out with the Force and even that was questionable but by now everyone knew something was happening. Avoiding choke points inside the Bastion the trio of Disciples made their way towards one of the many upper exits, perhaps they would be able to see what was going on from nearer the top of the Bastion itself. As they approached the final staircase he became aware of several stronger force signatures, these not even the most novice of Disciples would miss. Above stood Knights of Ren. As his feet began to bring him closer he could almost taste the sickeningly sweet darkness coming from above, only one Knight of Ren had that particular aura surrounding him. He'd only seen the Knight a few times and only in passing but he knew from his studies what the dark orb-like shells he walked around with were. Orbalisks.

As he ascended the last step he could see two figures, both as he had suspected Knights of Ren. Their names he did not know, but he knew of them. Sliding the longsword from his shoulder and grasping the scabbard in both hands he bowed respectfully to the pair of Knights, the other two disciples followed suit. Castor's voice was deep and low, a respectful greeting as he bowed.

"Masters."

Rising back to his full height Castor Ren could still feel the sickly sweet traces of the Force emanating from the man, he could feel the power there. These were Knights of Ren whom he was glad to have nearby, the sense of unease had been growing the closer to the surface he had gotten, no doubt the two Ren felt it too. Resting his scabbard's tip on the ground he rested his hands on its hilt. Looking to the sky he heard the uneasy calls of the Drexyl high above, even they had been disturbed. Turning his attention back to the two Knights he spoke once more, a question.

"I am at your disposal."

He knew the two likely were not interested in who he was and if they were he was sure they would ask. Castor bowed, his eyes meeting briefly with each of the Knights. He hoped he could be of use, too long had he felt that he was stuck, condemned to watch those around him progress while he was trapped guiding the new joins as a senior Disciple. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to prove his worth and finally be assigned to a Knight of Ren as an apprentice.

[member="Wolf"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Isla Ashen"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"]​

 

[Ria Misrani]

Bastion of Ren
Jurassic Something Something World

He hadn't an idea as to why he had tagged along with [member="Jude Falkrowe"], well to be honest it kept him from going home. And listening to the holomails from his wife. Orentho had seen to assist Mr. Falkrowe with the installation of listening devices. And had been within the vicinity of Mr. Falkrowe when he had heard the alarms, a quirked brow from the Chiss as he rapidly approached his comrade. "Shall we?"

Mr. Orentho was always lightly armed but sirens always indicated that he would regret his decision to not bring some sort of slugthrower or more proper blaster. Tut-tut, things he decided to leave to better men, such as the Army. As he ran down the corridors, the Agent looked to his comrade and then back down the corridor. "Would this be a terrible time to suggest that we should have brought a little more armor?" He gestures to his suit and tie, "by the Ascendancy..." He mouths as the sirens continue to blare, "do they have to be so bloody loud?" Orentho complained.

Spoiler

Jay made a friend

 

[Progflaw99]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05XBQv0dUkA​

--- --- ---​

Location: Surface of Virgilia, The Bastion of Ren​

Time: Evening, Day 1​

​

Affected: ​

[member="Orentho"] | [member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Aran Piett"] ​

[member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Isla Ashen"] ​

[member="Darth Veles"] | @Wolf ​

--- --- ---​

​

The Ssi-Ruuvi forces had made their way quickly through the jungle, weaving nimbly between the trunks of the trees and beneath the dense underbrush of Virgilia. It was much like their homeworld, almost like a second home to them but this world was strange, devious creatures filling the darkness of the night. Thousands upon thousands of P'W'eck slave soldiers had been spilled out onto the surface of the jungle planet, each Ssi-Ruuk soldier placed in charge of close to 74 P'W'eck. Outfitted with a control module, these Ssi-Ruuk soldiers were well equipped to deal with insurrection if the need arose, shock control harnesses wired to each P'W'eck under their command. Belonging to the warrior caste these were the elite warriors of the Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium, larger and more muscular than those in other castes they also boasted a much more natural hunter instinct and mind for strategy. Ahead of these soldiers and their wards over thirty D'kee-class landing ships had held altitude at nearly 3000 meters above the jungle floor. As they pushed closer towards the Bastion of Ren they released paralysis canisters along the paths of approach, hoping to paralyze any advance forces or other creatures that might have caused them trouble en route to their objective. Pulling up before they would be within range of the Bastion the ships hovered just outside visual range, looping behind a large peak. From there they would lie in wait.

The ground forces had spread quickly, scattering throughout the jungle as they made their way towards the Bastion of Ren. They could see it now, just barely, through the canopy above. Even now Sirsarun could see that his soldiers were approaching the point at which they would be ready to make their move. Shifting on the bridge of the Shree-class Battle Cruiser the saurian voiced a series of clicks towards a yellow scaled Ssi-Ruu. A hiss and a quick manipulation of controls later the Ssi-Ruu looked back to Sirsarun. Now it was time. Broadcasting on an open channel over the planet the message first sounded in an intimidating array of shrieks, calls, and clicks followed by an automated translation in Galactic Basic.

:: Be glad! The joy that we bring goes beyond mere sensory happiness. Yours is the privilege of assisting the Ssi-ruuk in liberating the other worlds of the galaxy." :: ​

​

Sirsarun watched in pleasure as the holodisplay indicated his troops had been deployed. So far the offensive had gone off without a hitch, not even a single ship sighting as of yet. With a sharp trill he instructed the staff aboard the Battle Cruiser to stay alert, no doubt they had been detected by the force users below and would likely call for aid. Their droid starfighters would be prepared to meet the enemy when they decided to show their faces, for now however they were safe.

​

​

On the ground the situation was panning out nicely. Almost casually the red-scalled Ssi-Ruu jumped over an overturned tree, his large mass moving elegantly for his size. He had been given direct control of the ground forces due to his tenacity in battle, this raid would be no different. Already his soldiers were reporting they were traversing up the path which lead to the mountain fortress with no resistance. A chirp from the communications device affixed to his head notified him his other group was in position. Barring his teeth as he moved forward, he responded in a low growl. The true assault would begin now. In addition to the many forces directed up the main path he had read the readings their stealth ship, deciding to send a heavy force to the base of the mountain where the fortress laid to scale its walls. Equipped with harnesses and grappling hooks in addition to their weaponry.

As he moved swiftly towards the forward operation center they had set up at the base of the path leading towards the Bastion he snarled into the comm.

:: Commence. ::​

​

It started out as a low growl, slowly gaining strength and volume as it erupted into a roar, shattering the quiet of the night. In unison the forces of the Ssi-Ruuk raised their voices in a terrifying bellow, echoing through the jungle and high into the mountains. An overwhelming force, tens of thousands of Ssi-Ruuk and P'W'eck stormed up the path towards the Bastion, their clawed feet digging into the dirt as they propelled themselves swiftly forward, the ground thundering beneath their feet. If their presence had been a mystery before it surely wasn't now. Soon the forces blitzing their way up the path would arrive at the last turn before facing the main entrance to the Bastion. Likewise the soldiers who had been sent to scale the mountain were now busy doing so, their hooked claws and talons scraping on the rock that made the mountain, their bodies moving swiftly upwards towards the peak on all sides.

They were scattered in height, some of the Ssi-Ruuk and P'W'eck searching for hidden entrances to the Bastion. This was an egg they'd been tasked with cracking, and for their own sake as much as the Ssi Ruuk, they would not fail.


Ssi-Ruuvi Forces

Spoiler

Ssi-Ruuk Fleet

1 x Shree-class Battle Cruiser
5 x Sh'ner-class Planetary Assault Carrier
3 x Lwhekk-class Manufacturing Ships
6 x Wurrif-class Light Cruisers
20 x Fw'Sen-class Picket Ships
36 x D'kee-class Landing Ships
1700 x Swarm-class Battle Droids

Ssi-Ruuk Ground Forces

300 x Ssi-Ruuk Troops
Equipped with:
Updated Ssi-ruuvi Ion Paddle Beamers
Standard Blaster Rifles

22400 x P'w'eck slaves
Equipped with:
Shock/Control Harnesses
Teeth, Talons, Claws

7,500 x battle droids
Equipment Unknown

 

[Aran Piett]

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

​

​

Aran's line lurches out of hyperspace in the Virgilia system. He could see the hostile ships around the planet, and he thought was he too late to assist. Snapping out of it, he broadcasted over his closed channel to all his ships. ​

​

"Corvettes form a picket, and protect the cruisers. Cruisers target their capital ships aim for the shield then the bridges, take them out quickly. I want focus fire. This is it."​

​

After closing the channel to his ships he opened a channel to the fleet he was assigned to.​

​

"Commodore Rausgeber, this is Commander Piett. Enemy forces over Virgilia are extensive my line cannot handle them on my own, request assistance."​

​

At this point Aran could only hope the rest of the fleet could get there in time before his forces were destroyed. His line slowly moved forward to engage with the enemy fleet when the open channel spoke out with the clicks and hisses of the enemy followed by the translation. Aran the could sense the fear of some of his bridge crew. So he made sure the set them in their place and prepare for the fight of their lives. ​

​

"Ships try to target their dropships as they leave their fleet, we don't have fighters so we need to be careful, Corvettes target their fighters keep them off our cruisers. All ships commence firing once in range."​

​

The line moved closer and closer getting in range of a few of their Picket ships, and started to open fire with all batteries, while the corvettes formed a defense around the cruisers to protect them from the fighters.​

​

"Aran to gunnery station 12B fire on that picket ship near by I want it scrap ASAP."​

​

"Aye sir, targeting near by picket ship."​

​

The Subjugator rattled as her turbolaser battery opened up into the near by picket ship.​

​

​

[member="Sirsarun"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]​

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

Awaken.

The word radiated throughout his mind, it felt urgent but calm at the same time. Obediently, the red-skinned zabrak opened his eyes suddenly, covered from head to toe in a cold sweat. One of his arms burned, irritated by the mechanical monstrosity that replaced his once living hand. It was this feeling that reminded him daily of his wound suffered during the subjugation of Lanteeb, one of his entire forearms was blasted off, replaced with a sleek cybernetic hand. Only one other Knight had shared his pain, [member="Wolf']gang Krieger as he knew him, the other man had had both of his legs broken during the Omega War, which sadly Anor participated minimally in. But they both got over their sudden crippling injuries, Wolf with his orbalisk armor and Anor with his cybernetic extremity.[/FONT][/SIZE]

[SIZE=14px][FONT=verdana]The Knight's thoughts were interrupted when a disciple came barreling into his quarters, obviously looking rather harried. "[COLOR=#ff8c00]What is it.[/COLOR]" Anor's deep voice rang out, "[COLOR=#40e0d0]The Bastion is being invaded![/COLOR]" The disciple responded. The Ren sat up quickly and quickly dressed in his midnight robes, black leather boots, and utility belt, leaving his signature cloak. "[COLOR=#ff8c00]I assume you have alerted the other Knights?[/COLOR]" He queried, "[COLOR=#40e0d0]Yes[/COLOR]" was the answer. "[COLOR=#ff8c00]Good.[/COLOR]" was all Anor gave as he grabbed both of his lightsabers and made his way out of the room.[/FONT][/SIZE]

[SIZE=14px][FONT=verdana]Heavy steps filled the hallway as Anor strode towards the Bastion's exit, nothing else on his mind other than a question, Who in their right mind would attack the Bastion of Ren? Was it an attack by rebels? A surprise ambush by the uneasy Galactic Alliance? Or something more sinister at play? It would have to remain unanswered as the knight exited out into the cool and humid air of the mountains. The first thing that attracted his attention were the circular ships in the distance, slowly propelling towards the Bastion, and from what he could tell, dropping some sort of bomb (or so he though) down into the area below.[/FONT][/SIZE]

[SIZE=14px][FONT=verdana]He was again jostled out of his thinking when loud, thunderous, roars filled the night. '[I]That is no vornskr[/I]' Anor thought, whatever it was, he could take them, all of his brothers and sisters could take them. The Knights of Ren were no pathetic order of pacifistic force users, no, they were an order of some of the most [I]powerful[/I] force users in this side of the galaxy alone, the Knights could definitely give whatever foreign threat this was a run for their credits, and when the First Order military arrived, and Anor knew they would, nothing would stand in their way on the path to victory.[/FONT][/SIZE]

[SIZE=14px][FONT=verdana][member="Isla Ashen"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Aran Piett"] | [member="Orentho"] | [member="Sirsarun"]

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Thomas had only been at the Bastion for a few days. After his actions as a TIE Pilot who was shown with potential as a force user,and so was brought to the place. Within time he had heard all about the force from the Knights who were transporting him. The force was a mystical energy field that binded the galaxy together,and the select few such as himself who could here it's whisper could wield it,and the possibilities with the force were limitless,However he had learned because of his body he could not achieve such a potential within himself. He was like that of Darth Vader a man who's condition was so similar to Kyrel's but he was one of the most feared figures throughout the galaxy in his time and was still feared to this day. Kyrel like him may not have the potential to wield powers such as Force Lightning but he could make a name for himself and unlock the true potential he did carry,and that was to undergo the path that was destined for him and it was sure to bring a life of significance and meaning and way more than that of a average TIE Pilot.

After his arrivel he did not know anyone so he mostly kept to himself not really speaking unless he was spoken too. He had started to learn who the knights of ren were and their history. Most of the rumors he had heard long ago were correct for the most part,that the shadowy order of Force Users were emissaries of the Supreme Leader and carried out his will that for the most part was correct. He had gotten acquainted with a new room,and being put at the rank of being a Disciple of Ren. For the past few days he had been there he had practiced on his force abilities such as Force Push,or Sense and even though he hadn't been a master of such novice skills so far his hate,anger and self loathing was progressing such feats. He had also managed to construct a crude but effective lightsaber as well. After leaving his room he headed out to the courtyard to practice with his new lightsaber,and proceeded to practice on velocities and drills in a Form V stance more in the style of Vader since it was adjusted to his suit.

In the midst of his practice he had sensed something in the force,and had a bad feeling of what it was. He had no idea if it was invaders or not but he was certain that whatever he was sensing it couldn't have been good. He deactivated the crimson blade and with a hiss the crimson blade disappears within the hilt. He hooks it to his belt,and takes the heavy painful strides back into the Bastion going back to the Disciple barracks to await what would come next as it seems his training in Saber Combat would have to wait at least for now.

[member="Anor Ren"] [member="Sirsarun"] [member="Aran Piett"] [member="Orentho"] [member="Castor Ren"] [member="Jude Falkrowe"] [member="Samka Derith"] [member="Isla Ashen"] [member="Darth Veles"] @Wolf

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Battlegroup Imperator was a fleet hanging in orbit of Lipsec. The fleet was in defensive operation, ready for any possible attack from the Galactic Alliance, or space pirates that'd dare to strike so far into the Order. While it seemed out of the ordinary, the fleet had to be prepared for the treachery of those allied with the Jedi. Even if Carlyle thought his resources could be better used. From aboard a newly repaired Vindicator, Carlyle observed the smaller ships of his fleet undergo training manoeuvres in order to combat the monotony of guard duty.

"Sir, sir!" The low baritone of the communication technician called, "We have a situation over Virgillia!" The technician called, "Commander Piett recommends reinforcements sent at once." The whole bridge stopped and starred at the Commodore as he mulled over the information.

"What enemy? How could they have penetrated our defences? We'd have spotted them!" he said, arching an eyebrow and glaring at the technician.

"Dunno Commodore," The technician repeated. "Unidentified, Piett didn't elaborate, all he said was that they were extensive." The technician replied. Carlyle felt the stares and glares of his crew piercing him. He paused.

"Helmsman, how fast can we get the fleet to Virgillia?" he asked.

"Twenty minutes at full speed sir," The Helmsman replied, "Shall I set a course?"

"Yes." he nodded, "But before we leave, Comms!" he called.

"Yes Commodore?" The communications technician asked.

"Order the fleet to follow our coordinates, and give a message to Piett, help is coming." Rausgeber said with a wry smile, "Come on lads, lets give 'em hell!"

"Hurrah!" The crew roared, as the battlegroup prepared to charge their hyperdrives.

[member="Wolf"] | [member="Anor Ren"] | [member="Aran Piett"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Isla Ashen]

Near the Path of Jagged Stones...
([member="Castor Ren"], [member="Samka Derith"], [member="Wolf"], [member="Darth Veles"])

The sharp eyes of Ashen Ren gazed out over the canopy below the cliff side, the jungle had been disturbed. Isla crouched down, her fingertips lightly touching the ledge before her. Even the breeze seemed to bring uneasy tidings. She continued to watch the world below, silently aware that the unknown was coming to greet them.

A strange growl sounded, sending an echo into the darkness.

Isla straightened up immediately, rising to her full height. The night was suddenly alive with sound; the bellowing of the creatures grew louder. The toe of her boot slid slowly forward, until it came flush with the edge of the cliff. It was then that she chanced a downward glance. There were shadows moving up the side of the mountain. Green eyes grew wide, watching as the sinister shapes continued to climb.

She blinked hard. As she continued to look down, she thought she could see the glinting of claws digging into the rocky side of the cliff. There were also small glimpses of teeth, nothing like she had ever seen before. This reptilian species was unknown to her. Isla glanced over her shoulder to see the familiar face of [member="Anor Ren"], a Knight that she held in high regard.

A few steps brought her back, away from the ledge – she did not dare turn her back. The redhead approached the Zabrak, her eyes narrowed slightly and head bowed just so. Her appearance was cool and collected, surely a far cry from the feral woman that Anor had found running through the woods of Skye. Though her time with the Ren had tempered her unpredictable ways and replaced them with a sense of discipline, a wild heart still beat within her.

“They are coming.” She said in a low tone, “Let the hunt begin.”

A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth, she glanced to the side at her fellow Ren. She could see that he was ready too; there was no need to ask.

 

[Samka Derith]

:: Be glad! The joy that we bring goes beyond mere sensory happiness. Yours is the privilege of assisting the Ssi-ruuk in liberating the other worlds of the galaxy." :: ​

An animistic roar broke through the night, one which was rapidly joined by a chorus of identical sounds. Several avian creatures flew from the jungle, screaming in fear. Even the Drexl, the mighty predators that they were, drew back from their circling. On the ground, barely illuminated by the torches on the Path of Jagged Stones, Sam could see dozens, perhaps even hundreds of lizard-like creatures emerging from the jungle and swarming their position. There was no sign of blaster fire coming from the attackers, odd for a species to have mastered space flight but not blasters, perhaps this is just a first wave to test them.

"Seems I don't need to scout after all..." Sam muttered, looking over her shoulder at the scene happening below her.

More footsteps, more disciples had joined them. Sam locked eyes with [member="Castor Ren"] as he spoke, Masters, he had called them. Even at a time like this, the young girl's heart would skip a beat on being referred to so respectfully. It was as she deserved. To most the sight of a girl in her mid-late teens giving orders to a man who looked at least in his thirties would be odd. She knew elements within the First Order's military struggled when placed under her command for that very reason yet here everyone knew their place and knew that everyone within the hierarchy was where they deserved to be. So when Sam gave orders, she had faith that here among the Ren, they would be followed through.

"The enemy outnumber us, we need to stall them until relief arrives." Sam glanced up at the stars, knowing the First Order and their omnipresent fleet, elements of the navy would already be on their way. "The best way to do that is inside the Bastion itself." Expecting an objection from someone in the group, Sam raised her hand up in a gesture of silence before any others could speak. "I understand it may be counter-intuitive but even our most skilled warriors will get torn apart by sheer numbers if we make a stand outside the gates. Inside the thin stone corridors however, one man may funnel one hundred foes to their death. Go, gather what forces you can and join the others attempting to fight outside. Let the enemy think that is our strategy but pull everyone back the moment you can. The invaders shall believe they have the momentum and pursue inside where they shall be slaughtered in countless numbers. Good luck to you all and remember, death before capture." Bowing her head, Sam gestured for them to be gone, the Disciples had their orders. There was nothing more to say to them.

Turning back to [member="Wolf"], Sam continued to discuss tactics. "We should set heavy blasters up here, it's a good position to see the attackers." Shaking her head slightly, Samka thought back to how not ten minutes ago she'd been leading a simulated battle yet here she was, in the middle of something very real. She also wasn't in the role of an absolute commander in this battle, something she had to remind herself. She wasn't the one who needed to supervise setting up blaster canons, those Ren who had trained with such weaponry would know their role and were no doubt already on their way from the armoury.

"They're going to get in whatever happens, even we don't know all the hidden entrances yet," Sam began to walk away from Wolf and back into the Bastion. "I'm going to make sure the archives are secure, do what you wish."

For the Knights of Ren, secrets were everything. The archives held the sum of the knowledge of their Order and while knowledge is indeed power, it only remains that way if the knowledge is yours and yours alone. The idea of these 'Ssi-ruuk' getting their claws on everything the Order of Ren worked so hard to learn made Samka boil with rage. They were her secrets and no lizard would ever know them so long as she lived.

[member="Isla Ashen"] - [member="Darth Veles"] - [member="Anor Ren"] - [member="Thomas Kyrel"] - [member="Jude Falkrowe"] - [member="Aran Piett"] - [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] - [member="Orentho"]​

 

[Wolf]

[member="Isla Ashen"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Anor Ren"] | [member="Thomas Kyrel"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Aran Piett"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] | [member="Orentho"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Castor Ren"]

There was no more need for pretence or concealment as the enemy approached from below. Now was the time for battle, and a small part of Wolf was thrilled that he could test out his orbalisks further in real combat, though perhaps he would have preferred a different location to his very home. He closed his eyes and smirked, removing his robes and outstretching his arms. The orbalisks moved around to cover his entire body, and Wolf grit his teeth and growled in pain as they bit into his flesh and clung onto him. His breathing became heavy and more laboured as he slowly grew used to the increased pain, two holes provided between the orbalisks on his face to see out of. He felt his anger rise as he was covered in pain, his blood pumped with adrenalin and enzymes, and he calmed his mind to control himself. His body now ached for combat, to rain death upon those who would dare challenge their sacred Order.

His monstrous form remained looking out across the canopy below as he felt [member="Samka Derith"] approach beside him. He merely nodded slightly at her words, before smiling at her comment on his appearance. "The Order has been most kind." The smile behind his orbalisk mask faded as he looked out over the canopy again and considered her words. Indeed they needed to know what they were up against. If there were Force sensitives down there, they would know immediately the presence of Wolf from the sickly darkness that emanated from his orbalisks, if he were to go down and scout out where they were. Neither did he feel comfortable with Sam scouting them herself, in their overwhelming numbers it would be difficult even for a Knight of Ren to move among them unnoticed.

His deliberation was cut short as a Disciple emerged from the Bastion behind them, relaying that a message had been broadcast across an open channel, ending their queries as to who their visitors were. "Be glad! The joy that we bring goes beyond mere sensory happiness. Yours is the privilege of assisting the Ssi-ruuk in liberating the other worlds of the galaxy." Ssi-ruuk. The name was familiar, if Wolf could recall correctly they were a saurian species that had made their last major foray into the galaxy centuries ago. That made Wolf uneasy. Why would they be showing up again, and who in the world would know how to combat such ancient foes? Wolf thought he was rather well-versed in Imperial history himself, but he had not gone into such details as to understand who this enemy was, their exploits taking up no more than a single page in any reputable galactic history book, if even that.

Wolf raised an eyebrow as fierce roars from hundreds of unfamiliar beasts filled the air from the base of the mountain below. They were no doubt outnumbered, but these Ssi-Ruuk were foolish to think mere numbers would overcome the Bastion of Ren. He remained silent as Samka gave her instructions to the other Disciple, [member="Castor Ren"], who had placed himself at their disposal. Her tactics were sound, and Wolf's attention remained focussed on the movements among the trees far below. He twirled the lightsaber hilt in his hand as he listened to her words, noting that she would be headed to the Archives to defend the position there. "I will join the Disciples and greet our visitors outside. I will then fall back to your position."

His gaze shifted to the other two Knights who had joined them outside, [member="Anor Ren"] and [member="Isla Ashen"]. He was not well acquainted with them, but felt reassured that the most experienced of their Order were present on the planet and not away on mission. He nodded to them, as he began to walk forwards. Casting a glance to Castor Ren and the Disciples that accompanied him to follow, he began to climb down the grand steps of the Bastion. Ssi-ruuk who chose to climb the stairs would be funnelled and easier to deal with, with some likely falling to their deaths either side of the staircase, with the Knights of Ren having the added advantage of a higher position as they fought down the stairs rather than up.

As he sensed the beasts near their location and turn the final corner to arrive at the base of the stairs far below, his ancient lightsaber hissed to life, the crimson blade spitting and snarling as it awaited its next victim. The Knight of Ren in his orbalisk-encrusted form stood resolutely in the centre of the staircase, his figure statue-like, unmoving save for the ancient lightsaber that was at his side that spat and hissed. Perhaps the other two Knights would accompany him, or go elsewhere.

 

[Darth Veles]

Clearly used to following commands and rigid discipline prevalent among the order, the Ren nodded and scurried away, vanishing from sight as soon as he rounded a corner. Letting the Supreme Leader’s faithful hands secure and reinforce their prized outpost, Veles’ swift pace carried the Sith Lord through more well-lit corridors. Instead of following others in their example and rushing to arm himself, he left the false safety of solid walls and friendly voices behind, eyes gazing upon Virgillia’s emerald solitude surrounding the mountain once he stepped outside. Always armed with a sharp blade and several other tools of his grim trade, he needed nothing else to embark on this task; Veles wanted to eliminate whoever commanded the invading force, whether the being in question charged into battle alongside their men or hid far behind. It mattered not to Veles – he had pulled off all sorts of things during the many campaigns and wars he had participated in.

In a way, this was just another mission. Light and shadow around him started to swirl in a colourful palette, twisting and bending until the Mon Cal’s form vanished from the world, cloaked by a powerful technique. Before repeating the stunt with soundwaves to render his movement inaudible, his ears picked the enemy announcement, a strange language that immediately robbed Veles of any hope his opponents would be strongly humanoid and thus easy to replicate. Vaguely familiar with the lizard-like Ssi-ruuk, the Sith recalled what little he knew about their race before unclipping one curved hilt clinging to his belt, thumb smoothly stroking its ignition button in a loving, almost sexual manner. His gaze briefly fell upon several Ren who have amassed outside as well, waiting for enemy to battle. Most of them he recognized – Isla and Samka were particularly easy to identify, just as Wolfgang in his disgusting armour.

An invisible smirk crossed his expression and for a moment, Veles considered joining their small numbers. But no; he ultimately worked better alone – assassins had to rely on themselves, no support to cover their backs. Everything became his greatest enemy and ally alike, pitting Veles’ Sith training against his enemies’ deadly instincts, both claiming to be the better killer. Even the most subtle of grass movements could give him away, reveal his position, meaning the amphibious assassin had to use extra caution, slowly and methodically work his way behind the enemy lines and take out the brains holding this operation together.

 

[Progflaw99]

--- --- ---​

Location: Space Surrounding Virgilia, Ssi-Ruuvi Fleet​

Time: Evening, Day 1​

Affected:​

[member="Aran Piett"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]​

--- --- ---​

Sharp trills and elongated howls echoed from the comm officer aboard the Ssi-Ruuk Battlecruiser. Contacts had been detected entering the edge of the Virgilia system. Responding with his own series of clicks and growls, Sirsarun barred his jagged maw. The full might of the Ssi-Ruvvi fleet shifted, their gaze now focused on the imposing ships. The drop ships had been deployed and only a handful were yet airborne and even those were already nearly entering the atmosphere. It had been a blitz attack and their prey had been entirely unprepared.

With the fleet turning to engage the new threat, a strange sensor reading would appear, a particularly odd pattern for a cruiser size vessel but the subtle differences wouldn't be perceptible to most scanners. As the cruisers split into two prongs supported by ten picket ships a piece, they moved in a pincer like movement, their goal to surround the incoming ships and bring them into a deadly crossfire between the odd pod shaped Ssi-Ruuvi vessels. As the axis of the two prongs and providing the deadliest fire was the Shree-class Battle Cruiser, its Ssi-Ruuvi heavy turbolaser equivalents opening up as soon as the enemy ships were in range. Following the initial barrage were its ion cannons, same in number. Withering laser fire filled the vacuum of space, flashing reds and greens, even blue lasers dancing in the space between the ships before making their marks.

As the picket ships began to get within range of the enemy fleet their shields were subjected to a barrage of accurate battery fire, their shields taking a heavy beating. Had anyone been able to hear the intership comm links they would be filled with hissing and whirring chortles. Trading battery fire the two prongs were closer to completing their goal, sliding far out to the edges of the enemy fleet in their attempt to surround it.

They may have been close to enveloping the enemy but that did not prevent the Ssi-Ruuvi from losing one of their picket ships to a focused barrage. The ships were durable, over ten times that of their predecessors but even then there was only so much punishment the ships could take on their own. The fact their enemy was generally focusing one ship at a time however had opened them up to another assault entirely. It was an opportunity Sirsarun was not about to pass up.

The erroneous cruiser reading began to break up as it came within standard turbolaser range, almost dissolving into mere debris. Visually it might have looked like smoke, suddenly dispersing. These were one of the Ssi-Ruuvi's strengths. 1700 closely positioned Swarm-class Battle Droids had been masquerading as a cruiser via sensors but now that illusion was broken as they streaked towards the nearest corvette. Even an anti-starfighter rig would have trouble locking on to an individual target amidst such a quickly moving cloud of starfighters.

Swarms-class battle droids were aptly named, their tiny 2m size and their well omni-directional thruster layout allowed them almost instantaneous change of direction, not to mention their blaster cannons positioned at each corner of the base of the ship allowing 360 degrees of fire for each cannon. As they broke up, it could only be described as a cloud of gnats, dispersing as they hunted down the enemy ships. They would swarm, overwhelming the shields of the enemy ship by sheer number of laser cannons and ships. Their goal was not outright destruction but the disabling of the corvettes, those battle droid starfighters would disable the ships so that the light cruisers could tractor them, bringing them into their hangars.

Next came the heavy cruisers of the enemy, the light cruisers of the Ssi-Ruuk sending barrage after barrage of Ion Cannon fire into their shields. Additionally the fast moving picket ships, able to dodge fairly nimbly with their 50m length, also began to tear into the shields of the enemy.

The sheer number of ships descending upon the Imperial fleet was enough to make anyone need a new pair of uniform trousers but the fact that the Ssi-Ruuk didn't seem to be outright destroying the enemy hinted at something even more sinister. The ion heavy weaponry being deployed against the encroaching First Order forces would likely whither their shields, possibly even disrupting ships systems. It was accepted that some losses would occur and Sirsarun merely tapped his claws as he saw the readouts change slightly. They had lost some of their starfighters but with such numbers it bothered him little, even at the loss of two picket ships, he merely snarled. These humans would get what was coming to them.

Ssi-Ruuvi Fleet:

Spoiler

1 x Shree-class Battle Cruiser
6 x Wurrif-class Light Cruisers
18 x Fw'Sen-class Picket Ships
1650 x Swarm-class Battle Droids

DISCLAIMER: While these are linked to wookie articles, these are specs from over 700 years previous. Weapon count may be the same but additional systems and systems upgrades may be present in the Ssi-Ruuvi ships.

--- --- ---​

Location: Surface of Virgilia, The Bastion of Ren​

Time: Evening, Day 1​

Affected:​

[member="Orentho"] | [member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Anor Ren"]​

[member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Isla Ashen"]​

[member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Wolf"] | [member="Thomas Kyrel"]​

--- --- ---​

On the ground, the situation had escalated further, the tens of thousands of P'w'eck slave warriors thundered up the Path of Jagged Stones. It was like a torrential stream, waters thundering as they flowed towards a large fall; these were no waters and there was no fall. The P'w'eck, driven by both their Ssi-Ruuk masters and their primal hunger stormed towards the carved stones of the stairway leading to the main entrance to the Bastion. They let loose a final cry as their powerful legs propelled them towards the foolish group of disciples who'd managed to stay outside of the main entrance. With a bounding leap they were upon them, talons, claws, teeth shredding and grinding as they tore into the small cadre of fools. There was no saving them, their fate had been sealed the moment they let their arrogance and pride drive them to stand at the precipice, the one they now found themselves falling both on and from. As they saw the ignited lightsaber, possibly a few, they continued forth, unphased.

The P'w'eck were more than mere slaves. Had anyone been given the time to examine them, they would see scars on many of their arms and legs, a testament to their skill in battle. Many of them had been raised under the Ssi-Ruuk, accepting their lot in life and fighting out of both self preservation and self interest rather than only out of fear.

If looked down on from above, the entire jungle would appear to be moving, the ground shaking and the trees swaying under the sheer numbers of saurians now assaulting the Bastion. Meanwhile against the several faces of the Bastion itself, the climbing P'w'eck and Ssi-Ruuk had made it the majority of the way to the top, aided by their unnaturally quick use of grappling hooks and the cutting power of the talons on their feet, allowing them to ascend much faster than would have been evident. Even now the first were beginning to claw their way over the edge. A strange fire burned in their reptilian eyes, the desire for flesh.

The P'w'eck may not have been armed with weapons, but they proved a powerful enemy nonetheless. Razor sharp talons and claws glistened in the night. Accompanying their natural weapons were a jagged row of teeth. On their bodies, a type of harness could be seen, though its purpose was unknown. Eyes set on their prey they pushed forward as they scrambled atop the small plateau, their brethren not far behind. The two Ren atop the small plateau would be hard pressed to hold the position for long despite their skill if they were to allow too many of the saurians mount its edge.

This however was not the only plateau, nor the only entrance the Bastion. Saurians swarmed up its sides, mounting the various cliffs and crags upon its surface. Deep within the Bastion, if one were able to listen carefully the sounds of scratching metal and dull ringing might have been heard but the sirens and general rush likely covered discernable noise.

Ssi-Ruuvi Ground Forces:

Spoiler

300 x Ssi-Ruuk Troops
Equipped with:
Updated Ssi-ruuvi Ion Paddle Beamers
Standard Blaster Rifles

22400 x P'w'eck slaves
Equipped with:
Shock/Control Harnesses
Teeth, Talons, Claws

7,500 x battle droids
Equipment Unknown

Summary of Action:

Spoiler

[member="Aran Piett"] & [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]: The Ssi-Ruuvi Fleet has fully engaged the small fleet commanded by Aran Piett, moving in a pincer motion so as to envelop and surround the First Order vessels. Taking minimal losses they have opened up into the First Order's ships with ion heavy weaponry. They have not detected the fleet en-route commanded by Carlyle Rausgeber. It seems as if the Ssi-Ruuk are holding back, not fully committing to the destruction of the First Order vessels but appear to be attempting to disable their ability to fight.

[member="Orentho"] & [member="Jude Falkrowe"]: General alerts throughout the Bastion are sounding, the bodies of Disciples and Knights alike rushing through the corridors as they prepare to shore up the entrances to the Bastion. There are several but the majority of the effort is concentrated towards the main entrance with several smaller Knight led groups heading to auxiliary entrances, though these are hidden from the outside and unlikely to be discovered by the enemy. The armory has been handing out some of the more choice weapons to Knights and Masters, they may also be willing to equip the FOSB agenst within the Bastion.

[member="Anor Ren"] & Isla Ashen: Saurians are beginning to pour over the edge of the plateau, clawing their way towards you. Several have mounted the edge, now proceeding to head your direction. They do not appear to be attacking yet but two have moved forward of the rest. They seem to be stalling you while their kind attempt to push out around the edges and flank you. As well, more saurians appear to be coming over the edge behind the few that are already atop the cliff.

[member="Wolf"] & [member="Castor Ren"]: The saurians have made their move, the thundering pounding of their rush up the stairs and leaping attack with taons and claws tearing into the first rank of disciples and knights at the top of the stair. Their shriek caused several of the disciples to lower their weapons, the massive bodies clearing a path as they dig into the small group clustered at the top. Some disciples were killed outright, a few of the saurians slipping off the sides and falling to their death but the bodies keep pressing forward, the weight of the large P'w'eck forcibly pushing against the defense.

[member="Samka Derith"]: Near the archives you hear a the whisper of a chortle. You can't be sure of where it came from but it sounded as if it was echoing from somewhere. Listening closer, you can hear a series of clicks and trills. You're not sure where they're coming from exactly, but it sounds like danger may have already found its way inside the Bastion.

[member="Thomas Kyrel"]: A knight has accosted you in the hallway, guiding everyone towards the main entry hall, there the chances of survival are highest as it will be a choke point at which you may be able to hold against the onslaught of the saurian menace. Simultaneously another Knight is also recruiting disciples to head towards the hangar, the Ssi-Ruuk have yet to discover it but the Knights know that if they were to be able to breach it, it would allow them to access the Bastion in far greater numbers. The choice is yours.

[member="Darth Veles"]: As you fade into the night, you are able to discern that these rather dull brown saurians are led by larger more brutish saurians, these ones equipped with blaster rifles and strange devices strapped to one of their forearms. They appear to be in communication via a small device mounted to their skulls. It appears that roughly to each one red saurian, there are about 70 of the duller kind. While similar in structure, they appear to be different species entirely. These dull saurians all wear harnesses and appear to have no weaponry save their teeth, claws, and talons though they look quite formidable. If you were to look at the ground, it would be easy to follow the claw markings and disturbed brush from the incredible masses of Ssi-Ruuk about you. As you observe them, you notice a distinct musk. They smell quite bad, but you wouldn't expect much more of a saurian species. It appears one group has begun to migrate in your direction, led by a rather large red Ssi-Ruu. You can see small appendages protrude from his nostrils as he sniffs the air and issues a series of clicks and chortles. As he does so, the P'w'eck nearest you begin to approach, sniffing the air as well.