Flashpoint [ CIS Dominion of Mikko ]

[Akabane Jarvik]

Location: Moving towards the Capital
Objective: 2 - Free the Capital
Allies: CIS, [member="BX-72967"] | [member="Arabella Darkhold"] | [member="Mara Rockwell"] | [member="Katria Vekarr"] | [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Samantha Jade"]
Post: 2

The order had been given. Akabane jumped off of the roof and landed softly, walking towards the coordinates. Yes, walking. There was no reason to rush, not in his mind at least. The CIS's infantry would arrive in a few minutes anyways. And he wasn't charging in there alone, not with a force prepared for him. He had a good amount of combat experience, knowing he would die going solo. This battle was one of his firsts since joining the CIS, as a warrior he wanted to aid the ground forces. Akabane was excited, getting closer and closer to the capital's walls. "You'll pay, your highness."

Akabane waited for the ground forces to come, it was a mix between droids and humanoids. He would do as commanded and give the unit assistance. At the same time he will enjoy himself, not by taking pleasure in killing but by displaying his skills in battle. He wouldn't move until the commander said so, the fun was about to start.

 

[BX-72967-RAZOR]

Liberation
Free the City - Disable HVC

"Acknowledged, Yellow 13."

The mechanical voice of the Droid buzzed over the sounds of battle. The Loyalist forces marshaled against the Confederate offense, unleashing hell over the wall the automatons scaled. However, while their offense was commendable, the sheer numbers of the B1 units would not be denied. If Razor were capable of contemplating such, Pride would be raging through his circuitry. However. The Commando was not capable of intimately understanding the concept. What he did know was efficiency. What he did know was that failure was not the optimal outcome.

Turning, he set his photoreceptors onto the slicer, [member="Mara Rockwell"]. For a moment, his mechanical voice was silent, for cold digits pressed upon the side of his cranium. The action released a small chit, one that could be inserted into a datapad with ease. "Link your datapad to this module." he said, pressing the chit into her grasp. "I will interface with the Hypervelocity Cannons directly. Once connected, remote slice through me - we will turn the enemy weapons against themselves."

Razor then recalled a duo of B1s who had not yet scaled the walls, pausing only to witness the flak guns shredding apart a fresh wave of pods.

"Protect this one." he ordered, before bounding off at a breakneck pace. His disruptor rifle rose and fired off against the wall's defenders, ceasing only to fire a grapple up towards the battlements.

"Attention approximate support teams, this unit inbound to local HVC. Rally Point, Alpha, Set."​

[member="Mara Rockwell"], [member="Akabane Jarvik"], [member="Katria Vekarr"], [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"], [member="Arabella Darkhold"], [member="Samantha Jade"]

 

[Grace Darkson]

Location: Capitol City
Objective: Contact the Spirits
Allies: CIS
Enemies: Upstart's Forces
Relevant Tags: [member="Akabane Jarvik"] | [member="Katria Vekarr"] | [member="Arabella Darkhold"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Mara Rockwell"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member=Katrine Van-Derveld"]
Post: 2

When her eyes opened again, she stood on a plane of mist and shadow. Dark tides seemed to pulse around her, threatening to swallow the Vahla whole. Thin, pale hands carved a pair of runes in the air before her, and there was only a moment's peace before the wrathful tides tried to consume her once more. Brow furrowing, the woman opened her lips, forcing out a spell, only to find that no words came. It clung to her throat like mucus. She tried to force it out, but it only seemed to grow heavier. The more she tried, the harder it became to push. And to breathe.

The Spirit Realm is not meant for the Living.

Why can't I speak? Panic was beginning to set in. She had to break it, had to breathe...

He approached her, massive wings encircling her. You've been here before, my child. The woman paused. Without my protection. He sounded disappointed in her, almost like she shouldn't have gone without him. You are bound here, even in life.

As the Jart's wings closed around her, a small smile crossed her face. So this is the Netherworld.

NO. The word boomed out like thunder as if He spoke in disgust. But you are still bound to it. Confusion swept through her, but before her question could be answered, He spoke again. Cast your spell. They have arrived.

She uttered the incantation with the desperate conviction of a fanatic, and the massive avian drew his wings back. Before her stood a massive white horse, carrying a rider dressed in some archaic armor, shining like the sun and stained with blood, no doubt the garb of ancient Mikko. In his hand was a massive blade of crimson, wreathed in flame. "Why do you summon me, Interloper? I will crown no child while this war rages!"

"But crowning him will let the war end! Mikko can focus outward, rather than spending its time on pointless war!" Her voice seemed quiet compared to the thing's thunderous tones, and for a moment, it seemed as if the Spirit had not heard her. "How long must Mikko spend her sons on inner turmoil? How long must she bleed herself dry? We can end this today! It's not too late!"

A laugh interrupted her, a long, harrowing noise that chilled her bones. "Our world has survived many wars of succession in the past, Interloper. We can survive this one." He looked down at her. "And what do you know about war? You speak like a poet who spends her soft life in a pillowed bed!" She didn't blink, didn't flinch as murderous eyes poured forth a raging storm of wrath from atop the horse.

"I have known war, Anmuxuna." Her words seemed to grow in power, but there was something else to it, too. "I have fought for my life in desperate struggle. I have known the exhilaration of conquest and dominion." Every word, every syllable, poured forth as if from two beings. "We have seen the rise and fall of empires far greater than Mikko has dreamed." Eyes burning with red fire, Lady Psyona met the spirit's gaze. She would not back down, not while He poured fire into her blood. "We have known worlds like you have not imagined, and lain waste to cities taller than Mikko has known. We are conquerors," She stared back into those murderous eyes. "Perhaps not as much as our brothers of the Doashem, but do not doubt out prowess, Spirit. We are no less the warrior for our mind's capacity."

 

[Arabella Darkhold]

Objective: Take over communications in the Capitol
Allies: CIS -

All eyes were on her she stood there trying not to read their minds it would be so easy to push their minds to accept what she said. But she was trying not to be that person. She wanted the intrigue and the ability to convince without crushing them to her will. She smiled though it felt more and more like a grimace. Hoping to entice them she took a few more steps.

"You wouldn't want to see me get in trouble on my first day, would you?" It was easy to lie easy to tell a story. She loved stories her father had told her many over the years for a moment she could see her father's face [member="Garith Darkhold"] as she wondered what did he think of her journey? His own having been so consumed by anger and hate. She had let go of much of it except for where her mother was concerned.

She had this far away look as one of the troopers approached, "first day you say?"

She nodded a bit too much, "Yeah. I was thinking about what my father will say if I lose the job" That was only half a lie.

"Hard man?"

Bella shook her head no, "he just has expectations I don't like letting him down" That was the absolute truth.

"If you can wait a few minutes we'll get you a ride there." Was that it! Really, she looked like a kid who just one the bag of chocolate, "OHHH that's great!!!" yes she was excited. Course now getting to the building was only one problem, getting inside, and taking over...two different things.

 

[Malok]

Objective III
Mikko - Courtyard

[member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Lady Psyona"] | [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]

His boots crunched upon the scorched earth.

Battle raged all around. The heavens burned with the fire of two navies. The earth was plagued by the cries of battle and the explosions of ordnance. Yet, despite the literal Hellscape the Sith entered, he knew no fear. Here, among the slaughter of men did Darth Metus know comfort. Here, upon the battlefield, did his heritage come alive. Decades of the same had molded him for this - Conquest. Victory. - and now Mikko would become the latest in a lifetime of battles.

But this time, there was one difference. He had someone to protect. This day, Darth Metus was slashed in his combat regulars: a blast vest, utility belt, etc. Upon his back was slung an Allfate Disruptor Rifle. Within his grasp waited his lightsaber. Before him, ahead only a few paces, was the silver-haired woman [member="Srina Talon"]. Her words were brief, assessing what laid before them on this battlefield.

"Well said." he said simply.

Snap. Hiss.

A crimson blade shot into being.

"Our goal is the Square. If we can muster the support of the spirits there and broadcast their words, the day will be won. I'm certain the Mandragora are already at work on this tas-" he broke off, suddenly being drowned out by the explosive collision of a Hypervelocity shell and a Confederate warship. "Move. Now!" His words were colored with urgency as instinct flowed through his bones. He took off in a mighty sprint, looking back only to ensure that his apprentice was a pace or so behind.

Together, they would take full advantage of the path and head for the courtyard.

Thankfully, the voyage would be relatively uneventful - thanks to the planning of the naval forces. The majority of attention was placed upon a fresh wave of drop pods and the horde of droids pouring over the palace walls. Chaos was gripping the anti-aircraft sites as the Imperial defenders put their all in denying the Confederate legions. This clash provided a worthy opening for the Vicelord and his charge, making it so entering the courtyard only required dealing with a handful of defenders.

"Halt!"

A cadre of guardsmen, native to Mikko, flanked a fireteam of Stormtroopers. Martial law seemed to be the play of the evening. Darth Metus flourished his blade and did not oblige, sprinting ahead of [member="Srina Talon"] as to draw the majority of their attention. Crimson danced about him as his saber whirled, batting away a storm of bolts.

And Srina would know exactly where to be. Their training sessions had revealed a trend between the pair. Where Darth Metus was hyper-aggressive, she was a guardian angel. Where the Sith charged blindly into the enemy line, Srina was always there to make sure the enemy didn't stab him in the back. This is what Darth Metus expected as his saber bit into the flesh of a Stormtrooper, burning through his plastoid like a hot knife through butter.

Together, no obstacle was too great.

 

[Dalton Kenway]

Through a pair of electro-binoculars, Dalton stood with a congregation of officers and soldiers outside the city, surveying the advance.

”Seems this Confederacy is a more mighty operation than I thought. The Imperials don't stand a....” he stopped, seeing a large explosion, "...chance."

Lowering the binocs, Dalton handed them to the officer beside and turned to face him.

”While I'm new to this, I've seen enough of the battlefront to know when tides start to turn. How is the air support? We need to get the wounded out.” He pointed a green gloved hand to the west of the city. ”Can we mobilise a droid unit to give ground support if the Imperials push back? We need to buy the ones on the ground precious time too.”

While he would rather be in there leading and helping others, this was a time to observe the Confederacy and see how they worked; to see how they acted under pressure and what a power they were in the shaping of the galaxy.

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Objective: Close air support for ground/Clear the skies
Location: Drop pod LZ and surrounding airspace
Post: 5

His shields were dangerously low, even with a majority of the AAA that was much of a threat to his craft eliminated, it was still less than ideal as there were emplacements on the base of the HVC as well. Infantry level repeaters, but still dangerous given their high rate of fire and the fact that there were multiple facing his direction right now. Taking that into account he dropped low to the ground and made a quick pass, targeting the automated guns specifically. Even with the jammer active a few stray bolts found their target. Shields were down to 15% now. Pushing his luck and skill to the limit he buzzed the rotating mounting on the HVC. Even with a good few hundred or more feet separation it was a thrill to know that the targeting computers would be scrambled long enough for him to get rid of those final annoyances. Pulling up and over the top, he strafed the HVC, doing little damage to the cannon itself, but managing to knock out a couple of the offending repeating blasters. A couple passes later and the AAA was silenced in the area. Switching to the warhead launchers he fired a pair of torpedoes at the HVC's mount, if not destroying it outright, then at least managing to put it out of commission for the rest of the battle.

:Yellow 13 to CIS forces, HVC nearest LZ is neutralized, may be repairable when we are done here.:

Pulling back up to a higher altitude he caught sight of reinforcements on the horizon, as well as enemy fighters who had come to provide a distraction from the ground targets. He was more than fine with another furball. Anytime they were ready he would be, switching back to his guns, he flew a racetrack pattern, simply waiting for the first of the enemy to get anxious and engage the CIS forces that were closing on the capital city now.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Some say battle was glorious, an intricate ballet interpreted by lasers and explosions. They were probably dreamers anyway. Battle far from the neat scribblings of those who never knews its horrors first hand. For the common grunt, it was dirty, filled with pain and instant death, it was comrades blown to bits by rocket attack, the sheer maddening terror of looking death in the face and coming to face with your mortality.
Screams mix with cries of injured and dying on both sides. For a second it was too much for the young captain as he stared at the remains of his team.

Then the world spun as he got tackled from behind, a snipers blaster shot pinging the wall, narrowly missing his head.

“Get a grip man. We need to keep moving forward. Time enough for daydreams when the battle is won.” His rescuer chided him as they scrambled to duck for cover.

“Thank you. For a moment I had lost my head, had you not pulled me out of the way I probably would have.”

The other man handed him a silver flask with a Red Raven icon on its side, “Happens to the best of us. Just remember that there are still men relying on you to lead them. Here take a shot of this it will calm your nerves.”

Strong Corellian scotch, caused him to cough as it went down but true enough it did calm him down, enough to realize that their advance had stalled. Handing it back to the man would saved him he was surprised to see him take off his helmet and a familiar face greeted him.

“Sir.”

“Damn it man don’t salute me here. You want to give the sniper an idea that a high value target is under his scope?” The look on Daxton’s fac clearly said he was teasing the young officer as he continued. “Keep the flask, you never know when it will come handy. Now gentlemen, lets lock amd load we have a planet to secure.”

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Location: Inside the Capital, Abandoned building
Objective: 3
Post: 2
Allies: CIS, allies of the older son
Enemies: Allies of the younger son

Beyond her body, yet her spirit felt strong even the beyond, Katrine felt herself still kneeling in the darkness as she felt eyes on her. Her own opened, spotting the damaged circle beneath her feet. Head rising, she took in the sight of the half-dark room. It looked as though the same room she was in with her body was in ruins. Who are you? The same voice boomed through the room sounding of drums and power.

I am a Ceta, a Mandragora, a caster, Katrine announced. Her mouth didn't open, she realized but the voice still came through loud and clear. I am here to end the suffrage this planet does not deserve, she continued in the same way, not moving from the circle she was in. Silence followed in response. The brothers fight over a simple throne, siblings should never fight over the good of the people. Katrine Van-Derveld bore the blood of a Clan Ma'tra, she learned from her every day of her childhood. And the Clan Ma'tra had willingly stepped down from her place of power when she had believed it good for her people. Satara was wise and old, she'd raised all her children with the knowledge that one day, they could one day wield the power she had and guide their people when she could no longer not. You speak wisely, the voice suddenly boomed over her. We know of the war, we are aware of what has caused this. What do you propose?

She fell quiet for a moment, the question sounded so loud and important. She was told to have spoken wisely but Katrine had thought it logical. Mother never allowed for fighting of siblings unless in good fun. Lupines were once known to rise to power by striking their elders but Father had abolished this from Figaro Favoura VI, just had he had abolished the old rule of male rulers only. Siblings were never meant to fight. Your power over Mikko is strong, so strong, spirit. You hold that power to end the people's pain. Choose the next ruler of Mikko and force the sibling fighting and death to cease. People were bleeding and dying over two brothers. That wasn't what Mikko needed. Katrine believed in the power of spirits when not everyone should.

You want us to choose the older over the younger. But is he fit to be king? The voice continued. Is he not? He is elder to his brother, he fights to restore peace in the capital. The brother second to him had thrown him out without a chance to resolve the issue between them, he rather invokes the deaths of their soldiers than to resolve this as it should be resolved, between them. Katrine hadn't seen too much but she understood as much. The younger had banished the older and surrounded himself with faithful soldiers keeping him safe and guiding what he thought was the true war should have been between them. The spirit fell silent and Katrine realized wherein lay the unanswered question. What makes one or the other a fit king?

The darkness of the room began to substitute for light, the damaged stone repairing itself. Within moments, the room became beautiful and filled with the sun. Ahead of her, the darkest area of the room formed into a vacant through, with light breaking against something. The spirit sat there, she believed then but there were other chairs surrounding it, three more though they were vacant now, Katrine new. War, Wisdom, Justice and Compassion, the voice boomed now, stronger than before. She understood now the question better. You are wisdom. The thought had come to her easy, recalling his questions and words. It made every bit of sense that she would be speaking to the spirit of wisdom them. Silence gave way for an answer, light shifting against the occupied seat.

No child will be crowned until War rages on Mikko, the voice warned her. But there are four of you. All four must cast their support on one, Katrine reasoned. Yes. The spirit responded, the boom of his voice sounding lighter than before. The older brother had asked support from a neutral faction who neither seeks to control or destroy Mikko. Was this not wise? The spirit did not respond. The younger brother banished the older, choosing to waste the lives of their people rather than to confront his brother. Was this not unwise? Katrine continued, even when silence continued. Was this not will of the deceased King? Neutrality? Silence again. Katrine now rose to her feet, her arms crossing over her chest but one moving ahead as she put it together. And is the capital un-free under the unsupported rule of the younger? This is not the doings of a wise leader. Nor a just one. Silence again.

She moved through the room, putting it together without interruption from the spirit. It quickly became obvious to her the spirit was waiting for her to deliver now. And if the younger had pleaded the Empire's help, was it not wise for the oldest to seek allies of his own to help him wage this war? Silence once more. War will have its fill, spirit. We seek to liberate the capital and its people from its captivity. Her words were laced with determination. Katrine had faith in both the Confederacy and the forces of the eldest brother. But will he be just and compassionate? The spirit finally spread his voice through though room, making her stop in her movements and turn towards the chair. Is this not for Justice and Compassion to determine? The voice fell quiet again. Justice comes from experience and wisdom, does it not? Katrine now asked. He has shown he has wisdom enough to do right. Silence again.

Then it occurred to her that her answer should have been in the first thing she had said. Siblings should not fight when the lives of their people hang in the balance, she began slowly, her head slowly nodded as she spoke, but because the younger that banished him and seeks to claim the throne for himself, risking the lives of those very people, then it would it not be just and wise for the two brothers to face each other? Not just that, she had realized then. It is the compassion this people need now. For their blood to stop spilling and for the two to solve their own problems. Seemed so simple but was it the answer? The spirit remained quiet.

[member="Lady Psyona"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Katria Vekarr]

Objective 2
Location: Outskirts of the Capital of Mikko
Allies: CIS
Enemies: Young Heir's Forces

An explosion, a flurry of activity within the walls of the capital, and it was quickly apparent that the tide seemed to turn. Even then, she knew her job was to stay put. It wasn't as if she couldn't pick up shop and make her way into the capital with a fresh cartridge in her Disruptor Rifle, an option she was tempted by, rather she was confident that if she left her position it wouldn't end well. And so, she was content to hunker down and take aim at the targets she could see.

And it was among those targets that she settled on eliminating the opposition on the walls of the capital. It didn't matter to her that she'd had the chance to eliminate them previously, nor that they would continue to pose a threat even after she began picking them off, she would deal with the problem no. With a shift of her rifle, an adjustment to her weight, she peered through the makeshift scope and out onto the various men and women scattered on the wall.

They were different now, in a way she could compensate for, as the activity in the city had tipped them to complications inside and out.

With a squeeze of the trigger she let a shot loose, then another and another until the clip was empty. It wasn't, however, that simple. Between each shot pair she rolled and shifted to a new point, creating distance and eliminating a singular return focal point. And like fried mynocks they fell in pairs in mists of red atop the wall they were so crudely assigned to guard. While she wasn't about to discredit the young heir, thus far he proved inept.

With one final motion to shift herself to a new location on the same ridge she'd poised herself on, she set down her weapon once more and continued her vicious spree.

While she hadn't thought heavily on it, there was a grace in her ability to calculate who was the enemy and who wasn't.

 

[Arlox]

Arlox's strategy had worked, the bombers proton torpedoes had started to launch upon the Star Destroyer wedge which shields were down, resulting in the destruction of the Star Destroyer wedge. It seems that whoever was commanding the Star Destroyers has left, as they're just sitting ducks for Arlox's fleet to take out. A few of his starfighters had been destroyed keeping the attention of the rest of the Star Destroyers but a good number of them still remained. The Recusant and Heavy Cruisers continued their long-range fire at whenever the Star Destroyers shields were down, which the Sikune-Class Battleships had already shot down the shields of another Star Destroyer wedge with another long-range heavy ion cannon barrage.

The strategy at this point could be repeated and be very well effective to take out the rest of the star destroyer fleet orbiting the planet, since they were focusing fire on the Starfighters which are doing evasive maneuvers, as long as there's no interference or interruption from enemy reinforcements, Arlox could continue to take out the shields of the Star Destroyers while the starfighters distracted them just for the Star Destroyers to be bombed by the Hunter Bombers, soon enough the enemy fleet will be cleared and the CIS will have control of Mikko's airspace.

 

[Grace Darkson]

Location: Capitol City
Objective: Contact the Spirits
Allies: CIS
Enemies: Upstart's Forces
Relevant Tags: [member="Akabane Jarvik"] | [member="Katria Vekarr"] | [member="Arabella Darkhold"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Mara Rockwell"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member=Katrine Van-Derveld"]
Post: 3

"Prove it." The words thundered aloud, shattering the world around her and sending the Vahla back to the material realm. The once empty street was filled with stormtroopers, white-clad, faceless men who served some far-off master. They raised weapons at her, and a small smile crossed her face. She would show them the error of attacking a Mandragora.

Cold, pale hands withdrew her saber with a snap-hiss, watching the group. Fear. She could smell it, taste it. They would know fear by the end of the day. But she wasn't planning to kill them with her saber. No, this would be special. She flicked her hand, carving some arcane rune in the air as her lips whispered old words of power. The commander screamed, grasping at his helmet, trying to claw at his mind. And then they started firing.

Her defenses weren't stellar, not by a long shot, but they would hold for the seconds she needed. One of them was hers now. His rifle aimed and fired at his comrade. "I'm sorry!" He tried to scream. She forced the words to die in his throat. He was nothing.

Three of them were caught by their squadmate's fire before they cut him down. The dagger flying from her hand struck a fourth, the blade lodging into his neck. A twisted smile crossed her face as she looked at the remaining few. "Poor pawns. This piece isn't going to be taken so easily." But they held their resolve. She was tired, the energy to drive a man to madness and possess another enough to drain her after spending time in a realm beyond. Heavy shoulders heaved. Two more. She had to kill them the hard way. Had to save her strength...

Slow steps carried her forward. One shot made it past her guard, burning into her left shoulder. A scream escaped her, and she charged in blind rage. The man vas vivisected before he could blink. The last man's head followed him to the ground before his body.

"Spirit, you will support Prince Solomon. End this war before we end it for you." She could see, vaguely, the form of War, looking down from the pale horse. He simply nodded, riding towards the city gate.

And she knew no more as darkness took her thoughts.

 

[Srina Talon]

Srina breathed in the smoke and ash as she tried to ignore the less than subtle disgust that welled inside of her. This warzone had once been a peaceful place where citizens could thrive and live their lives without fear. Now, due to some inane power struggle, the very essence of the city was dying. The heart of it, its people, were suffering. The little Echani intended to help the Confederacy end this madness one way or another. She lived and breathed combat—but she did not weigh her delight in battle over the lives of innocent people.

She heard her Master agree with her sentiments but she didn’t turn around to acknowledge it. The battlefield was forward. Not back. There was the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber activating and the pale-skinned woman knew that it was time. Darth Metus began to outline their plans only to be interrupted by the gut-wrenching noise borne of the sky-battles above. Her Master ordered that she move and self-preservation already beckoned her to shadow his every step.

They kept moving despite the explosions at their back until they encountered resistance. Silver eyes narrowed as she remained in her Masters orbit, moving as he moved, always watching his back. Darth Metus charged directly into the line of fire and the apprentice followed as the Stormtroopers and guardsmen swarmed them like flies on a carcass. Her blades came alive and she held them expertly, completely accustomed to the vibrations, and she struck out once the guardsmen invaded her space. The Echani deflected blaster bolts with her shield and used her diminutive size to her advantage.

The small woman immediately looked for weaknesses in armor. Even the middle of a fight, her awareness made itself known, and there were several things she managed to pinpoint immediately. The Stormtroopers and the guardsmen were not accustomed to working together. The Imperials could hardly keep firing on herself and her Master without running the risk of hitting their allies. The guardsmen were clad in armor, but even that had its flaws, which could be exploited.

Her energy shield disappeared and she drove her blade upward in a pinpoint strike. It went through the soft part of the soldiers’ neck and continued straight up with the intent of swift execution. When she ripped her blade free in a smooth downward motion the guard fell, lifeblood spraying, before he was quickly replaced by another. The next soldier lunged at her with a broad sword upheld, fearlessly challenging her foreswing and following up with a backswing. Srina dodged the first with a half twirl and met the second with her Echani blade. The make of her weapon was superior and she could see her blade eating through her opponents.

She drew her second blade suddenly across the guard’s midsection and he howled in pain as he stumbled back. Srina flicked her sword in the man’s direction and she could feel the Force respond, sending the gravely wounded soldier flying backwards, into a group of Stormtroopers. From there Srina continued to move, helping to lay waste to their enemies with her Master. Every movement, every strike, had a pre-determined level of power behind it. The energy she expended on each attack not only carried the blow to its intended depth of penetration, but also, controlled the follow through. The continuation of movement left her with an advantageous position from which to renew her attack or a platform to prepare a defense against counter-attack.

It wasn’t until Darth Metus finished off the last of the Stormtroopers and they reached the town Square that Srina relaxed. No longer was her armor pristine, and flecks of blood marred the perfect paleness of her face. It had been a short-lived but bloody scrimmage. “Are you unharmed, Master?”, Srina questioned, knowing his reckless way of fighting, versus the very precise strikes she made.

In that moment the little Echani’s eyes seemed to grow distant. Reality twisted and bent until she found herself peering at ghostly images that flickered in an out of existence. It wasn’t a vision, not like what she knew, but she felt as if she were suddenly able to see between this realm and the next. She wasn’t sure how it happened, or why, and she immediately reached a hand toward her Master. He was her home, her refuge, and her anchor.

Speech without words followed in her mind and she hoped she wasn’t the only one that heard it. She knew these spirits without being told, and instinctively, knew which was there to speak to her and which was there to share counsel with Darth Metus. Compassion, for some reason, sought her out. On some level it made sense that Justice would seek her Master.

Srina viewed the spirit with confused silver eyes. She hadn’t known this to be part of the plan. It asked of her wishes and she remained silent, trying to ignore the sounds of laser cannons going off in the distance. “My will is to see this end.”, the pale-skinned woman murmured with a certain level of confidence. She had to believe that the son they had lent their support to would be the best choice for Mikko. This chaos, bloodshed, and agony had to come to a close before any more lives were lost. “I do not need to see the youngest Prince executed or punished. He is misled by youth and a notion of grandeur. He may not have been merciful in his treatment of his lands…But if mercy is only dispensed to the merciful, then it is not mercy at all.”

“All we need is your word. Your choice. Support the Prince that is eldest. He has been trained for this calling, he knows the people, he knows well enough when to ask for help. Confer with Justice and the rest of your brethren…You must see it true.”

She could feel her Master conversing with Justice and let blood-soaked fingers wrap around his. After a moment, the spirits left, and time seemed to flow normally. Srina wasn’t sure that the spirits would advocate for their intended ruler but she didn’t really have any negative feelings. Either way, she tried to shake off the feeling of being smothered by another world and kept silver eyes open for any other enemies in the area.

All they could do now was wait.

[member="Lady Psyona"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] |

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Location: Inside the Capital
Objective: 3
Post: 3
Allies: CIS, allies of the older son
Enemies: Allies of the younger son

The spirit stayed quiet for only a moment longer before Katrine heard different murmors coming from the same direction. In a single blink of an eye, she was sure all four spirits were there, the light shifting and giving away hints of form before only one remained again. The spirits agree, the spirit finally spoke, his voice echoed as he spoke as if he spoke for the others and with others at the same time. The brothers will fight each other. The winner will be chosen. A king will crowned. With that, the room began to change back, she could feel herself returning to her own body, still kneeling in the ruined room.

Katrine stood. "So it shall be done," the young woman muttered and turned her back on the darkness behind her, making her way to the exit. This time when she pulled the doors, they came back with an ease that hadn't been there. Outside, the war still raged on. Pulling the hood of her clock over her head again, she continued into the street, careful not to catch the attention of too many soldiers. One of them, holding his heavy riffle in one hand was talking into the small communication device in his hand. Her eyes narrowed as she watched, hidden in the alley. That was what she needed, Kat realized. "Nunchi karis, ziji ki, aji ki. Dtaji ir ki anotia," she began to whisper a chant as her hand waved towards the man, keeping all her focus on him. Her High Sith wasn't great but it was enough with the spells she did know, which was all she needed at this point.

The soldier jerked at the sight of the petite blond illusion in front of him, offering him a smile before rising her index finger inviting him to follow her. He looked left and right, clearly confused before looking back at the illusion. Come, the illusion whispered and turned away, headed towards the alley where Katrine was waiting for him. The soldier looked around again, confused nobody else was noticing the sudden appearance before he began to follow her, saying back to his fellow soldiers he had to check it out, before he vanished at the corner. The illusion vanished almost immediately then. "Didn't your Mother ever teach you not to follow girls who appear out of thin air?" Her voice from the side started him, his weapon rising immediately. Her hand jerked upward as she concentrated on his weapon, forcing it upward with the sheer usage of the Force itself. With enough energy and a mastered telekinesis, Katrine made its movement quick, jerking her hand to the side even more intently. The riffle flew out of his arm and smashed against the wall, the whole thing clearly startling the soldiers.

He drew for a second weapon but by now, she'd expected it, pulling out her slugthrower and shooting him in the neck before she could actually think about it or waste time on any other vulnerable spot. The hit had sent him aback, his body falling. Either bullet had hit the artery and he'd bleed out quickly or the acid would spread through his system quickly. Either way, she'd moved slowly towards him, watching him begin to jerk and shake. "Definitely the acid," Katrine decide from the sight of him. "Don't worry, this war will end today," she promised him before she aimed the slugthrower for his forehead and fired at close range. Now was not to time to watch the acid eat through him.

Katrine kneeled next, taking the device attached to his suit now, inspecting the communication device before she adjusted it to send it to broadcast on all channels. Finding the right one right now would just take too long, the blond decided as she inhaled a deep breath and began to speak: "I speak on behalf of the Conderacy of Independent Systems, Mandragora, the spirits of Mikko and Mikko itself. This war ends today. This fight stops right now. The spirits of Mikko have decreed - the two heirs to the throne will meet and fight each other. The winner of the duel will be the new King of Mikko. This is a challenge that cannot be refused. Prince Solomon, Prince Absalom, meet each other in the altar room. Do this for you people." Finishing off her transmission, she removed her thumb from the transmission button and continued kneeling there over the body, waiting. For a moment she wondered if either would respond. This was a test ultimately. Wisdom saw it as a wise choice, War would be fed by it, Compassion would see the choice in protecting its people and Justice would find justification in the decision. She expected both to want to do it but then, she saw the choice of Prince Absalom, the younger heir, to banish his own brother from the capital and surrounding himself with soldiers and the Empire reinforcements to be an act of a coward, not a coward. They would see now which brother was made of what Everyone would see.

"Prince Solomon accepts the challenge. We will finish this today, brother," a voice came through suddenly, bringing a smile to her face. With that, she stood, taking the device with her, at least for the time being and moved slowly back through the smaller streets, returning to her speeder. From behind her, she could feel a momentary presence from behind her, making her turn. The light broke against something, giving form to a shadow of a spirit, who only nodded before vanishing again. Katrine only smiled. No doubt that was Wisdom, she decided as she continued, finding her Kybuck Speeder bike, making her way out of the city, keeping the device close by as she waited for the second response. From then on, the Mandragora would help the spirits crown the future king once the duel was finished, provided there was a duel at all. All four spirits had to be appeased.

And as her speeder moved, earning surprised and confused looks from the onlooking soldiers due to the curfew and general mayhem of the area, while each and every one of them anticipating the response of the young prince and the duel that would finalize their suffering. "There will be no duel. Destroy their base!" A weaker voice spoke out through the coms the next second. Katrine knew immediately that voice could only belong to Prince Absalom, in the way his soldiers around her responded, some of them throwing their weapons to the ground as she continued.

In that exact moment, aware of all, the spirits had the decided. Prince Solomon truly did embody all the qualities a King required. Wisdom, War, Justice and Compassion would swiftly crown him upon his entrance into the sacred chamber.

The end​

[member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Lady Psyona"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

With the fighting finally drawing to a close, Daxton lowered his rifle and switched on the safety. Mikko was secure and another world part of the Confederacy. While some might say the cost was high, there was no real price on freedom. That is what the Confederacy brought to Mikko this day, all in all a good day in the Sith’s book. Glancing around he hoped to locate a place where he could grab a drink or two and relax after an day at the office.