Annihilation Head of the Snake: BotM Annihilation of Csilla

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: High Orbit over Csilla
Commanding: Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought
Allies: Aldo Garrick, Talon Kyber, CETCOM , Derix Tirall, Kuric Taumin, Subject 54 Havoc
Foes: Teica Giraan, Captain Herlock, Constantine Oliva, Ryv, Thale, Roudac Gannan , Natasi Fortan , Gallius Orcana , Adhira Chandra, Auteme, Rahmmon Barkai , Olen Halcorr, Charlotte Reed, Korynn Sol-Syna, Liedran Kathause

The enemy was in hot pursuit, and there was still no word from the boarding party that had captured the Chancellor. Tu'teggacha's facial tendrils writhed in frustration; the entire point of the forward push, which had disrupted his defensive screen and opened up the Mercy to enemy fire, had been to cover the assault on the Alliance One, and now they were being forced back without having completed the task. It had been a gamble, and it appeared to be one they were losing. The NIO attack group, seemingly ignoring the heavy fire that the three remaining Crucifix Is were pouring into its capital ships, doggedly pursued the Fatalis, targeting its main guns.

Their intent was clear: to either destroy the Fatalis or force it out of the battle, leaving the Mercy open to attack. Given the firepower already being poured into the station, that was not a risk the Taskmaster could afford to permit; they were close, so close now, to laying utter waste to Csilla, making its ruins their manifesto for all the galaxy to behold. It was their first true step toward the ultimate chaos they intended to bring across known space, and it could not be permitted to fail, no matter the cost. But what could the Ebruchi possibly do against such numbers? He was outmanned and outgunned, and had been from the start. Now it was even worse.

Another Megacaliber cannon exploded, flaring a vibrant red on the damage readout, and Tu'teggacha hissed in rage. It was only the heavy shielding and armor of the Fatalis, grafted on at the expense of speed and maneuverability, that allowed it to hold up under such a terrible barrage. But even those defenses were being strained to the maximum. If he wanted to hold out, to delay the main attack on the Mercy for even a little longer, he would have to find some way to supplement them. Casting around with the sensors, he noticed something: the battle in space had been at least as bloody as that on the ground, but the corpses it left were... different.

Hundreds and hundreds of ships, from star destroyers to corvettes to civilian transports to starfighters, had been ripped apart in the fighting. Their debris now drifted through the warzone, surrounded by the void-frozen bodies of their crews. It was mostly beneath the notice of the various commanders, who could only afford to focus on which ships were still in the fight... but these dead hulks might still have a use, given the proper application of tactics. Tu'teggacha himself did not have the talent for what would be required here, but the many Heathen Priests aboard the Fatalis did. So he reached out, swiftly linking the minds of the dark Force wielders.

"Call upon the Way of the Dark," the Ebruchi commanded, his voice booming inside their skulls. "I will gather the debris; use it to shield us." It was beyond the ability even of so many Force-users to simply pluck entire starships from the void and swing them around, but the Priests could provide steadiness, aim, and guidance. The Fatalis reached out with its tractor beams, rapidly grabbing and pulling the hulks of corvettes blown apart in the Mercy's first firing toward it. It only took a moment for each; their engines were dead, and in the inertialess environment of space, starting them drifting toward the star destroyer meant they'd keep drifting.

The Fatalis gathered more and more debris, pulling it in with weapons it had not yet used in this battle; while its turbolaser batteries and Megacaliber cannons were rapidly being taken down, its tractor beam projectors were still intact, not priority targets since they had been silent up until then. Meanwhile, inside the ship, the Heathen Priests strained to direct the incoming debris, moving it into a shield around the Fatalis. It was like a layer of ablative armor, a second skin to absorb some of the incoming fire. It was far from perfect; guiding scattered wreckage into a perfect shield was far beyond even their collective ability. But it would help the Fatalis survive.

It would take a toll, however. All across the super star destroyer, priests wobbled on their feet, sweat dripping down their faces and blood running from their noses as they focused their entire energy and will on guiding the debris. They had to hold it in place when enemy fire struck it, or it would be thrown back into the Fatalis by the momentum of the incoming fire and strike the ship it was meant to defend. The weaker priests, initiates and those without iron wills, soon passed out from the strain, the hulks they had wielded slowly drifting out of position. Even the strongest were being taxed to the uttermost. But it might buy them time, just a little more time.

That was what this would all come down to. Minutes, seconds even, until victory.

Meanwhile, the three remaining Crucifix Is continued to open fire on the Revanchist and the Conqueror, trying to thin the enemy attack group firing on the Fatalis in order to allow it to survive a little longer. With the enemy vessels' shields down, they opened up with their concussion missiles and ion cannons, targeting their foes' engines in an effort to keep them from pursuing the retreating Brotherhood ships. They didn't have to destroy these two enemy ships in order to score a win here, only cause them to fall behind and end up out of range of the Fatalis. Since the enemy wasn't firing on them, they could pour fire into their targets unopposed.

It remained to be seen if such tactics could stop Gallius Orcana ...

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Retreating, armored with debris
Poisoned Veins, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Destroyed
Crimson Offering, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Retreating, firing on the NIV Revanchist
Severing Blade, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Retreating, firing on the NIV Revanchist
Sanguine Cruor, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Retreating, firing on the NIV Conqueror

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Whereas serenity embodied the young Jedi in front of him, chaos embodied the former Dark Lord of the Sith. The energy that crackled around Elle Mors was delicate and gentle, smooth natural contours smelling faintly of lavender and chamomile. The Butcher King's energy was harsh and jagged, sharp angular breaks which reeked of blood and decay. Every fiber of his being, from the follicles on his head down to the soles of his feet, was energized with overwhelming desires of destruction and hate.​

​

He was the hurricane that laid low entire communities, tearing apart the foundations of peace and hope. She was the rock which stood in defiance of his hateful maelstrom, resolute in her conviction with feet planted firmly on the ground. She would not bend to his anger, nor would she crumbled before his fury. Yet, the storm continued to rage and rage around her, ripping apart everything that failed to withstand his destructive power. In the end, it was just the two of them standing in the eye of the storm, blades crossed as intense energy spiraled out from their conflict and into the station around them.​

​

"The greater your shadow, the brighter I will shine." The Light shone brightly from Elle at that moment, a beacon of hope and the promise of justice to right the galaxy's many wrongs. The Darkness seethed within Carnifex, a great stain upon the tapestry of the Force. Conversely, Carnifex embodied all of the systematic evils in the galaxy; the oppression enshrined in law, the discrimination against those who were other, those institutions which ground down the people of the galaxy and elevated those who tightly held the reins of power.​

​

He was the physical manifestation of every injustice known to the wider galaxy, the avatar of oppression, just as Elle Mors stood strong as his inverse; the steward of righteousness. ​

​

Blow after blow was traded, emerald against scarlet, good versus evil. Some would declare that the galaxy was not so black and white, that there were none who were truly good nor truly evil. Carnifex threw a wrench into that belief, for he was a being comprised entirely of the Dark Side, his only intention to suppress and enslave the galaxy. He did not care for the other people of the galaxy, he cared only for himself and his own power, and he was more than eager to destroy anything or anyone who stood in his path.​

​

And Elle stood strong against this dark force without flinching, the spirit of a true Jedi burning bright in her heart.​

​

Their battle raged through the hall where they had met, long molten gashes left in the walls and floor where their blades had passed. Carnifex's style was growing increasingly more aggressive as time wore on, his attacks fueled by the Dark Side of the Force and his own incredible strength. Yet he never seemed to press further to land any killing blows, always pulling back if or when the opportunity presented itself. Nor did he speak much during their duel, what little of his face that shone through the skull-faced mask he wore showing only grim determination as hard as stone.​

​

But then, without warning, he finally spoke.​

​

"You will fail them."​

​

Elle Mors ​

 

[Hakon Fett]

BYOO | NIO | SUPERWEAPON
C O M P N O R
what do you see in the dark when the demons come for you

"Try not to leave behind survivors, Mr Abaddon; these are just pests who are long overdue for a culling."​

"Truly, Lady Silence, truly."

And off they went leaving behind in their wake a pile of blood and bones. Marauders slaughtered by the dozen without a second thought. The greater the waves of reavers that came their way, the longer the trail of bodies. There was a long period when their bloodied route was engulfed in silence with only the white noise of the battle outside cracking through the durasteel walls of the station.

That was until his enhanced hearing senses caught words, a conversation but their source was...invisible?! The hesitance disappeared in the flash of a second at the sight of wiring and panels levitating next to a pair of sealed bulkhead doors. Without a word and in a fraction of a moment, Abaddon was atop the phantom menace landing from a powerful leap with his blade drawing a whirlwind of slashes at where the average-sized human's throat would be.

"Pitiful circus tricks won't save you."

ALLIES: COMPNOR | Rika Hiro | Joren Loft
ENEMIES: EVERYONE | TASK FORCE XESH | Maijan Paisea | Kingsley | Viribus

 

[Darth Solipsis]

Location: Chamber of War | Throne
Tags: Cedric Grayson | Ryv [SOON TM] | Mar'Sika​

The Elder basked in the Exile’s pain, he found great pleasure in the fierce duel that they shared. It had been a reunion long in the making, a moment to be remembered. He couldn’t help but cackle into a sinister fit of laughter as he approached, watching as his rage-induced telekinetic assault struck true. He had lost his cool for a moment, allowed his better judgment to falter when his plan to convert the Lord of Ession turned flat on it’s face.

The quick reaction timing and strategic use of the Force in erection of the barrier was applauded by the Sith Master. He had been most impressed with the ingenuity and raw talent held by the son of Cyril Grayson. If only this reunion had come decades earlier, he would of been so much more malleable. The perfect successor to take up the mantle, the perfect enforcer to strike down his enemies. A shame it came to this.

Solipsis could feel the immense strain on his body as his heightened senses became to slightly dull, the Force sustained him, it put his body into motion and enhanced his movements in unnatural ways his failing body would never be capable of doing on it’s own. The Dark Voice sneered, feeling the weight of it all slowly set in.

His terrible glare fell onto the Exile with dark grimace and foreboding shadow, “You still cling to hope. What a terrible illusion, a fool’s gambit. There is no hope..”

“.. only me.”

"I might very well be a fool Kaigann," Cedric's words dripped with venomous sarcasm as he offered his kin a sardonic grin. His gaze never left the Voice's, but his attentions were on the mounds of shrapnel scattered around the room. "Unfortunately for you, the fool's greatest virtue is his inability to recognize when he's lost."

His eyes widened as he reignited his saber with a sharp hiss, deflecting piece by piece of shrapnel as it came to him but even his own skill with a blade and preternatural senses could do little to stop every piece from hitting him. Sharp immense pain coursed through him as one such metal fragment rammed into his shoulder. Another grazed across his hip, tearing at his robe. He used the pain, centered it within him and let it fuel his anger, his passion that called deeply on the Dark Side of the Force.

Removing the large fragment from his shoulder with a squirt of crimson liquid that followed he gazed upon the Exile with a fury few had ever seen as the glass shattered behind him. His sulfuric eyes snapping immediately toward the viewport behind where the nonexistent throne once sat. A impossible gale of compressed air and debris rushed out to kiss the void as everything in it’s grasp was sucked out into the empty black expanse beyond.

The Elder soared back toward the broken view, his hand stretched out in attempts to call upon the infinite power of the Force. The floor peeled up and met him just before being thrown out to his doom. In a frantic moment of desperation, the Sith Master pressed down with the Force and suspended himself in a jittering, gaze as he was locked into Force Stasis with a loud overarching hum.

 

[FN-999]

LOCATION: CSILLA - NIO TRENCHES
ARTILLERY: 30/12
ALLIES: NIO & CO | In relative proximity of Aerarii Tithe | In less-relative proxmity of Enedina Tal / DECEASED Erskine Barran / Jerec Yularen / Major Bennett Hall / Halketh / Tyrell Lockhart / Ziroka
ENEMIES: DA MAW | FN and NPC units directly engaging Maestus | Engaging walkers and NPC units under Lirka Ka / The Mongrel
EQUIPMENT: In Signature + Carbine Rifle

PAX IMPERIUM
N I N E S

As FN-999 approached the crater, he nearly ran into the retreating Vice-Chancellor.
​

Moving to the side as the man ran by, the lieutenant legion commander returned his focus to the crater. Several troopers of the escort squad had already fallen, their blood contaminating the snow around them. The remainder moved in a disorganized rout, attempting to embark for the same rear line of trenches as the Vice-Chancellor had just returned to. Letting out a deep sigh, the lieutenant legion commander assumed his next series of commands, opening his comms radio array.

[Major ST-093, this is Nines. Get one of the smaller evacuation shuttles to land directly above the given coordinates, an unforeseen hostile intrusion has resulted in the return of the Vice-Chancellor to the trenches. I'm personally engaging them, with my experience, I should be able to hold them off with limited support so that they do not engage the evacuation shuttles.]

[Understood, issuing orders now.]

With his orders given, FN-999 turned all his attention to the confrontation up ahead. Several robed figures loomed within the crater, lightsabers glowing. As several retreating troopers joined him, he raised his hand up in a 90 degree angle, indicating a halt. All six remaining troopers and their commanders turned towards the Maw warriors, a uniform set of rifles in their armored hands. Those with depleted magazines swiftly reloaded, inserting new clips into their barrels.

"Target their heads, arms, and legs." muttered FN-999, just loudly enough for his fellow troopers to hear.

"Open fire."

While the lieutenant legion commander and his surviving cohort of six began a renwewed assault on the Maw infiltrators, the evacuation effort was well under way. Responding to the high-priority request for the Vice-Chancellor, an Excusor sloop rapidly descended upon the trenches, landing with a gentle thump just behind the third layer of trenches he had fled to. A fresh squad of stormtroopers rushed out of the sloop to escort the man into the shuttle and hopefully deliver him offworld before calamity struck.

A minute after the Excusor's sloop arrival, a far larger procession entered the lower atmosphere. Five heavy assault dropships filled the sky behind the trenches, casting a shadow that extended partially into the third line. They made contact with the ground in a far rougher fashion, great piles of snow being launched in the air behind the trenches. Their cavernous hangar ramps opened up, each providing an escape route for an entire eight hundred soldier batallion. The current total capacity was three thousand, but more dropships would be inbound in the next few minutes.

"This is... This is Captain Yularen of the TodHusars First speaking. We are not able to retreat without being slaughtered to the last. We will slow down the horde for you, Lieutenant-Legion Commander. The Anaxsi commit their last stand. We will meet again, we will meet again in hell. Over and out."

​

Still within the command bunker, Major ST-093 read the grim message. Yet while their broadcast foreshadowed eventual capitulation, she found a scheme forming in her head, one that had the possibility to save the isolated division.

[Captain Yularen, this is Major ST-093 of the 459th Regiment, represneting the Lieutenant Legion Commander in his temporary abscence. Do you think your TodHusars can hold out for just five more minutes? If so, then I can order a heavy assault dropship to land just behind your position under the cover of an artillery barrage. It would have to be a very quick evacuation, likely one lasting under three minutes. Any longer, and the Maw hordes might destroy the exposed dropship. I might be unable to stop a superweapon from destroying this planet, but I refuse to see any more individual units lost to the planet-bound horde.]

 

[Brec Gannan]

STEALTH TROOP TRANSPORT > PK-1 MERCY INTERIOR
OBJECTIVE III:
DUEL OF THE FATES

Equipment: In possessions tab

Before long, it was obvious that the group had been split up. Between the fluctuations in the build-up of the light and dark sides, Brec caught the odd glimpses of his allies through the chaos caused by so many Force users in one area. At least Juliana Alderdice was with him, as he glanced back to see the young Imperial Knight keeping pace. The corridor had become less populated, as the mass of Maw combatants had been sliced through or otherwise handled by other First Order forces; these were not the more skilled fighters, that was obvious to see.

"We need to keep moving," Brec said, as he turned back to facing front and felt that wave of Force influence wash through the area again, as a vision of the mysterious raven aimed to hit like a charging Bantha--

Sithspawn... so you want it to be like that?

--Brec slowed to a stop, as the mental assault began. He reached up and growled, as fingertips were pressed to his temple, to further focus and protect his mind. It wasn't that Brec lacked awareness, so much that he had narrowed his capacity to sense wide applications of the Force; and for good reason, what with someone on the military station trying to mentally attack, which was always an intrusive and difficult method of fight to handle. Mental willpower became the weapon, and if it was one thing the Sentinel had, it was willpower; one didn't get raised in the use of the Force from a young age, groomed to be a Knight of Ren - and later Imperial Knight - without developing for that purpose.

Ahead was the illusion of the sentient, presumably. Brec lowered his brows as he stared, taking in the vision and hearing what it said. There was power here, dark power, and it radiated from the humanoid projection like waves. Juliana looked taken aback, perhaps overwhelmed by the power manifested, but Brec stood his ground. It was all he could do, really. There was nothing to be gained by allowing his mental faculties to be overwhelmed... yet, what the stranger didn't seem to understand was that by projecting himself so bluntly, so powerfully, it allowed for others to see where that beacon of Force power came from.

That's it... projecting all the power...

And when Brec had found a steady state to withstand the waves of dark energy, he began to focus further. He followed the - admittedly easy to follow - traces of energy that circled and weaved through the existence of everything toward the source. The mysterious raven. He wasn't far, not at all, though his attempts at directing the pair of Imperial Knights wasn't quite kosher. And as the mental assault began to quieten, Brec turned to look at Juliana Alderdice as he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You're right," The Sentinel said simply. He bolstered his companion with some calm through the Force. "I know where he is. We're going to deal with him, then move further into the base... let's go."

The thin translucent line that had been Brec's focus had split, now, as two paths weaved through the superweapon. One led to a point he did not know, while the newer led to the mysterious raven - however, the paths for both went right, not left as the insistent individual might otherwise proclaim. Brec wondered if there had been some deception attempted, to lead the pair into other obstacles, but it mattered little as the Sentinel began to run with his lightsaber deactivated. He reached out to the raven, a smirk crossing his lips...

See you soon.

It took a dozen more corridors and passageways, but the shatterpoint didn't falter, and soon the pair of Imperial Knights stood outside the room or chamber where the mysterious raven resided. Brec looked to Juliana - "Are you ready?" - he asked, eyebrow raised. With a flick of his finger, he activated his blue lightsaber and felt some level of assurance as the howl of his weapon began to echo throughout the corridor. Then, once his companion was ready, the Sentinel activated the door panel and stepped inside to meet with the mysterious stranger who had tried to lure them on a merry chase...

Allies: Juliana Alderdice
Enemies: Gren Blidh​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Location: Chamber of War | Throne
Tag: Darth Solipsis ​

If only he'd worn a helmet.

For the first time in their combat, Cedric drew blood. Despite his better intentions, he could not help but feel a kernel of satisfaction as vitae dripped from the gash on Solipsis' arm. That momentary satisfaction was interrupted, however, as the atmosphere of the room promptly vented itself out into the void. He could halt the sea of air crashing into his back about as well as any man could darken the sun if the day was growing too hot. It took him clean off his feet with ease, tossing him about as if he weighed nothing, and sending him careening out toward open space.

There was a rebreather at his belt, his only hope, and it would do little to keep his body functioning once he was exposed to the void. For all the conflicts he'd partaken in, all the violence that had surrounded him throughout his life, never had he felt so powerless in the face of certain death. There was fear at first, as he careened toward oblivion, but it was easy to let go.

If he were to die here, then he would go into the loving arms of the Ashla. His family awaited him: his friends would understand. Mikhail and Ryv would certainly mourn him, but they had grown into strong young men. They would continue the fight long after his demise. He accepted his death wholeheartedly if it meant the end of the Maw.

But Solipsis remained. The momentary peace Cedric had embraced was shattered as the floor of the station rose to cradle Solipsis in its cold embrace, a thin veneer of ethereal energy shrouding the Dark Lord in a protective cocoon.

That wouldn't do.

Bogan's Lament roared to life one final time as Cedric called upon every bit of the empyrean's energies that he could muster. His foot crashed into the ceiling of the chamber, his knee shattering to dust under the force of the impact. The moment his boot touched metal, another burst of telekinetic energy exploded outward at the point of contact. The force of it altered Cedric's course to send him on a path of direct collision with Darth Solipsis , his blade held outward like a spear to run straight through the Voice of the Maw. Adrenaline, shock, agony, and an all consuming desire to see the Voice silenced tore a roar of retribution from Cedric's lips that emptied whatever oxygen remained in his lungs.

If this was to be his fate, then so too would it be his uncle's.

 

[Maijan Paisea]

SIA_TASK FORCE XESH

BYOO | CSILLA | ABOARD PK 1 MERCY
JSTP | WHITE CURRENT
OH NO!!!

The Current rippled violently, like boulders splashing through a creek –– they were detected! Discovered! Found!

Whether it was Kingsley's incessant chatter, or the fact they were now sparking parts of the station to life, it didn't matter. The here and now was troublesome; despite their invisible advantage.

Her hands tightened, and she reacted involuntarily; it had been so long since she'd been this close to conflict. Given her affinity for manipulating the seen and unseen, she was usually more removed from these sorts of scenarios; skirting around the perimeter while Viribus was responsible for slashing and weaving and actually doing something about the a fight.

Thus, her golden fist curled without a second though, and with all the weight of a golden brick (maybe two) she punched out toward the duo-toned masked attacker of the bird.

"Get that doorrrrr open!" She yawped, staggering backward after her strike to the assassin's jaw and retreating back into the comforting invisible wrap of the Current. One that likely couldn't be sustained for long.

With a flick of her other wrist, not throbbing from the haymaker, on the other side of the corridor two silhouettes that looked like creatures of The Maw they'd seen at the warcamp several months ago looked as though they were lumbering toward the trio of attackers.


TASK FORCE XESH | Kingsley | Viribus | Kirk Korrado
VERSUS
COMPNOR | Hakon Fett | Rika Hiro | Joren Loft

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: On aboard the superweapon.
Objective 3.: Duel of the Fates | Stop the superweapon
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Kiss of the Red Witch | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: N/A

[ Just Inside My Head ] ​

Ingrid continued typing with ten fingers, opening a channel toward the Crimson Empress. It was Cal Osborn's ship and it had to be a connection through which she could talk to Maniac. With the AI of HPI and House L’lerim. It wasn’t perfect either, but it was better than nothing. The woman is also mature for programming and code breaking thanks to her mother, but a super intelligent AI is still faster than her.

In any case, she had to realize that she would not be able to solve all this quickly and easily. It would take hours or days, the only thing she could do was get around the system and start either redirecting too much energy back to generators to cause an explosion if they are overheated later, or just drain everything from it into the weapon system and cause an explosion there. Unfortunately, she could not direct extra energy into the shields, because then the outer fleets would never be successful.

However, she could slowly drain energy from the life support system as well as from the shields. It will be a slow process and they will definitely notice. The red-haired woman could only hope that in the heat of the fight, the staff would not have time to stop overwriting what she was doing now. She set it slow enough not to be conspicuous and also turned off the alarm too. It will probably only signal the whole thing when the system reaches the critical point. Of course, they will be able to still stabilize the system at that time. But it was worth a try.

She dealt with the whole process for at least twenty to twenty-five minutes. But she wanted to be sure, so wanted to get some explosives, grenades, which she wanted to leave at the reactors and detonate. Knew the Mercy wasn’t going to explode because of this, but every little “needle puncture” was important in the fight for success.

 

[Kanto]

OBJECTIVE 1
En route to New Imperial entrenchment

NIO: Enlil , Julius Haskler , FN-999
GA: Aerarii Tithe
Maw: Maestus , Lirka Ka , The Mongrel

"Lieutenant!", he called out. Re-entering the CIC with some concern, Irizi'ro'kanto put him at ease, still speaking with a commanding tone. "I've had enough of these tables. Prepare my ship. Notify the New Imperials our arrival is imminent."

Returning to face the New Imperial executives present, he bowed curtly before ushering them outside. "I am sure this discussion will be continued at another time. We will see to it that you are escorted to the safety of the NIO. I must join the fight against the savages who seek the end of my people."

Despite his best efforts and the inherent discipline in Chiss culture, this battle had proven to be a test of that discipline. Though the Chiss and their allies were fierce in their resistance, the flow of information permitting rear command to actively track and organize troop movements and activities crawled to a slow, troops actively engaged in combat. The limited value Irizi'ro'kanto had for his fellow servicemembers and to the Ascendancy in a stagnating CIC was not lost on him. Having made his way to the CEDF Headquarter's primary hangar bay, he donned his battle dress in preparation to join the fray. A squad of Chiss commandos would be joining him. The NIO transponders their political team had shared would be of great value in ascertaining the present situation. As the shuttle's engines came to life with a roar, no longer did he have the comfort offered of the climate controlled administrative building or an absence of hostile engagements. Now - he would join the line.

​

Plumes of smoke billowed into the sky and blaster fire managed to illuminate the already bright snow covering the ground. Several large vessels had landed before their arrival, and Irizi'ro'kanto allowed himself to feel pleased that the New Imperials were committed to such a staunch defense of Csilla. That feeling was short-lived though, as he saw troops falling back to board the vessels rather than pouring from them.

Did I expect too much from them?, he wondered. No matter. They were strategic minds, even if only in battle. He would trust their judgement. As the shuttle's engines quieted to a purr, the commandos and himself filed out with a rigid discipline so routine to the CEDF that honor guard units would feel shamed. As the troopers outfitted for the harsh cold fell back, the Chiss commandos pressed forward. He felt conflicted by the predicament he found himself in. Surely there was a place where his commandoes would be of more value than to defend a retreat of the same nation which invaded his own at the Redoubt.

The thought didn't linger before a beleaguered shriek howled through the winds and blaster fire. A large insect-like creature emerged from a screen of snow drifting from the canyon. He had heard of their presence before, but the howl unnerved him some. Perhaps he'd serve some value here after all.

Grabbing one of the retreating troopers by the arm, he pulled them close and shouted. "Where is your field commander?" After receiving some broken, albeit sufficient guidance, he released the man's arm and continued on.

That thing isn't built for this world. Wait five minutes and it'll freeze on its own, he jested to himself.

Nonetheless, as the New Imperials had before him, he would hold the line - even if they'd be leaving it soon.

 

[Kreg Jare]

Task Force Xesh
Tags: Kirk Korrado | Kingsley | Maijan Paisea | Viribus | Allyson Locke

——————
​

A small headache began to set in as he woke up. How long had he been asleep? He told that bird dude to wake him up before they got off. Looks like this is the treatment he got for being the new guy.

Honestly, he would have rather stayed on the ship then going out and fighting for a alliance he didn’t care about. You try and collect one bounty on a Senator and you are screwed for life. Not his fault.

Standing up out of the bed, he stretched his arms. A small yawn escaped his mouth that he didn’t try to hide. Looking over to his helmet, he grabbed it with both hands and slipped it on.

Looking over to the front of the ship, he saw the captain sitting in his chair, taking a drag from his cigarette. This would be the perfect time to knock him out, take the ship, and leave this blasted place. If it weren’t for the stupid intelligence agency that put him here in the first place, he would be long gone.

Nonchalantly he walked up to the front of the ship and set his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Morning Zeltron. What did I miss?”

He didn’t bother to learn the man’s name. Hell, he probably wouldn’t bother to learn any of their names. One of these days he would be out of here. But for now, he was stuck on this blasted ship.

 

[Roudac Gannan]

​

FIV RESURGENT​

SHIELDS (74%)​	HULL (94%)​
██████████​	██████████​

SPECIALIZED SYSTEMS: ■■ Destructor Beam Cannons ■■ Interdiction Field Generators ■■ Predator Int. Drive ■■ Crystal Grav Trap STATUS ENGAGED IN BATTLE...​

FLEET VESSELS​

BATTLE DIVISION 1​ • Resurgent Star Destroyer | 78% - 74% • Supremacy Star Destroyer | 58% - 81% • Maxima-A Heavy Cruiser | 88% - 97% • Gladiator Assault Cruiser | 46% - 95% • Raskova Heavy Corvette | 96% - 100% • CR90 Sisa-class Corvette | 34% - 100%

BATTLE DIVISION 2​ • Resurgent Battlecruiser | 89% - 93% • Resurgent Battlecruiser | 94% - 89% • Matsushima Battlecarrier | 98% - 100% • Seawolf Heavy Frigate | 78% - 94% • CR90 Sisa-class Corvette | 86% - 100% • CR90 Sisa-class Corvette | 96% - 91%

ESCORT FLOTILLA 1​ • Falchion Bastion Cruiser | 94% - 95% • Lancer II Defense Frigate | 98% - 91% • Lancer II Defense Frigate | 76% - 95% • Raider II-Class Corvette | 81% - 85% • Raider II-Class Corvette | 87% - 100% • CR90 Sisa-class Corvette | 91% - 97%

CARRIER DIVISION 1​ • Matsushima Battlecarrier | 100% - 100% • Taskmaster Escort Carrier | 100% - 100% • Taskmaster Escort Carrier | 100% - 100% • Taskmaster Escort Carrier | 100% - 100% • CR90 Sisa-class Corvette | 100% - 100%

FIELDED STARFIGHTER SQUADS​ • TIE/fo Fighter | x39 (468 fighters) • TIE Bomber | x15 (180 fighters) • TIE Brutes | x10 (120 fighters) • TIE/wh Fighter | x15 (180 fighters) • TIE/vn Elites | x15 (180 fighters) • TIE/wi Elites | x15 (180 fighters) • A-9b Prowler | x10 (120 fighters)

ENGAGING MAW FLEET
Bridge of the FIV Resurgent

THE RESURGENT & BATTLE DIVISIONS ONE/TWO
Engaging - CETCOM (Overseer Pryce)

Confirmation from tactical reached the Allegiant General, as he checked that all starfighter squadrons had successfully launched and started to move in formations to engage. "Target command vessels, disrupt those enemy fighter screens, and keep some reserve elite squads for protection around the Resurgent."

Absently, Gannan remained aware of the 'discussion' taking place between the Supreme Leader and the New Imperial Order's Commodore. The sentient on the other end certainly had a manner of disrespectful interaction, given his brash behavior and expectation that all others follow his lead. To Gannan, he sounded like a weaskel with a shrill tone and whine...

"As stated, Commodore Gallius Orcana , we will arrive as quickly as possible to the engagement," The Allegiant General added to the communication from the Supreme Leader Natasi Fortan . "I recommend engaging in strategy communication before taking action, in future... it certainly is more effective than 'follow me', when no fleet positions or coordinates are provided to form effective vessel positions and formations.

"Hold tight. We are coming to assist."

Being engaged with the large number of Star Destroyers, there were numerous factors to take into account. One of them was not a small-minded and impetuous Imperial Commodore, who's main tactical strategy seemed to be 'fly into the middle of the enemy and hope for the best'; so when communication was cut with the NIO commander, there was no loss to the moment, as the Allegiant General continued about taking care of his end of the battle.

"Omega? It would seem so," Gannan nodded with a grimace, as he spared a glance to the Supreme Leader, before his eyes returned to his bridge command panels. An update was required. "Our main advantage in this engagement, right now, is that we've managed to form a broadside firing line. Minimal vessel profile for the enemy, maximum firepower sent their way."

And on the screens, the Star Destroyers from the Maw fleet were taking considerable damage. The First Fleet was, likewise, taking hits - yet, because of the very specific positioning of the vessels and divisions, the damage was being mitigated somewhat by overlapping coverage and narrower angles to find purchase with enemy weaponry.

"Supreme Leader," Gannan said as he turned to her and grimaced again. "It's time. Please evacuate the vessel, we're about to be a lot closer to the superweapon. See you on the other side, Lady Fortan."

Nonetheless, the tide began to turn, as the Maw fleet that had moved to engage the First Fleet began to fall. Especially as the full force of the complements of starfighters began to swarm through the area, as a literal ocean of fighters, bombers, and other craft raced through the distance of the engaged fleets. Missiles were targeting shield generators, fighter screens were engaging the Maw starfighters, using highly agile maneuvers to break formations and disrupt attack runs on the First Order's larger vessels.

Communications were kept quick, decisive, and the battle shifted into the First Order's favor. Before long, the star destroyers from the Maw fleet began to turn, especially when several key commanding vessels were either destroyed or near-destroyed; the utilization of the broadside aligned orbital cannons, as well as the incredibly powerful destructor beams, helped punch through many of the smaller enemy warship's shields and hulls. There wasn't much else to do, beyond adjust trajectories and begin to focus on what remained of the attacking force arrayed against the fleet, though Gannan remained aware of potential regrouping from the original star destroyer numbers...

But they seem to be retreating from engagement for now.

"Update on that secondary Maw fleet," Gannan ordered, as he checked on the status of the Supreme Leader. She would likely be near, or on, her personal vessel by now. "Also confirm status of the Supreme Leader's departure."

The communications officers pointed to several crew manning the stations, as orders were relayed. The sentients went about confirmation of information, as they used the data from the sensor stations, and verbal reports came in:

"Battle Division One have started to engage, sir. They are maintaining a fleet formation to protect the Carrier Division," One of the comm crew said, as she scrolled through data rapidly. "Sixteen vessels in total, with the flag ship being designated as a Resurrection-Class Battlecruiser... orders?"

"Have the Resurgent fire all destructor batteries at that vessel," Gannan said as he narrowed his eyes. "Target shield domes, as well as hangar bays as appropriate. Our quad emplacements and projectile launchers will target the Avenger-class destroyers. Also order the starfighter squadrons to begin engaging, with priority on engaging enemy fighter screens and targeting engines with bombers. Punch through them, so that Battle Division One can work away at the smaller vessels. Also, have Battle Division Two to support our efforts against them, as all First Fleet divisions begin moving into formation..."

Gannan turned to the comm officers again.

"Relay orders as follows to Vice Admiral Rahmmon Barkai , Captain Charlotte Reed and Captain @Thorne," The Allegiant General checked the scanners, as he assessed other areas of the battle. "They are to engage the remaining vessels from the Maw in this area. Also order the Carrier Division to peel away from formation and begin leaving the area, they will support the other fleet commanders from ranged positions."

"Yessir!"

ESCORT FLOTILLA ONE

Lieutenant Frell sighed with some relief, as the marauder fleet began to peel away. Whether by choice or simply due to other factors, the escort flortilla had essentially protected the flank of the Resurgent, as was the task appointed to it. There had been some damage, but the mines appeared to have done a good job of dissuading further action against the First Fleet's flag ship.

"Resume formations, detonate any mines that weren't used, and begin recharging shields with maximum power," Frell ordered, as she stood on the bridge of her command vessel and let out a sigh of relief, not for the first time. It was always a tense moment when the flanks were attacked or moved against, but it was what the Escort Flotillas were trained for. "Relay readiness to continue formation with the Resurgent."

"Yes, ma'am," Comms confirmed, as they began transmitting the required information, keeping the flow of information up-to-date and current on the encrypted First Order command network. "Data has been sent, waiting on further orders."

Frell nodded as she relaxed some, and rested her hands against the bridge rail. She stared out of the viewport, at the bright engines of the Super Star Destroyer ahead of them, and focused on maintaining that visual in her mind - those engines wouldn't be destroyed, not on her watch...

"Orders from the Resurgent, we are to prepare for engagement change and coordinates."

"Copy that, begin preparations." Frell said, determined, as she steeled herself. "Balance be with us."

THE RESURGENT & BATTLE DIVISIONS ONE/TWO
Engaging - CETCOM (Overseer Pryce)

Gannan watched as intense beams from the destructor weaponry sizzled through space, aimed at the flag ship of the remaining Maw fleet that engaged the First Order. He also smirked as multiple, powerful blazing orbital cannon fire soared across the distance and sought out that same flag ship's shielding and hull. The sheer firepower brought to bear on the considerably smaller vessel was likely overwhelming, as the Super Star Destroyer fired all of its heaviest weaponry at the single Resurrection-class warship. Granted, the Maw had some ships with similar weaponry - namely their own orbital cannons. But, there was a significant difference between a fifteen-hundred meter vessel firing a smaller scale cannon, and a Super Star Destroyers...

"The Supreme Leader is clear of the vessel, sir," Comms said, as they updated on the situation. "Also, our starfighters have engaged the remaining Maw forces in our sector. They outnumber the other fighter squadrons almost six-to-one... it should be very short work to dismantle them, even with the impressive piloting skills of some of their numbers, sir."

"And the ramming vessels? Continue to contain them with our quad laser cannons," Gannan watched for those particular vessels. The bow of the Cruxific-class cruisers was an obvious giveaway to their purpose. "When they begin ramming, and start to close the distance, have our projectiles and ion cannons ready... also have the predator interdiction drive powered for use."

There were many moving parts, but the Allegiant General was able to plan across multiple situational circumstances. This was one of the larger battles of his career, truth be told, but the fundamentals of ship-to-ship combat largely remained the same. And it was his job to ensure that - when those tactics were used against him - he was in a position to be effective and counter them. That said, adapting to new or unusual tactics remained vital, and so analyzing the starships of the enemy was paramount to prediction and precaution measures.

"Status of navigation?"

"Coordinates prepared, sir, able to engage at command."

"Good, prepare for my mark, as soon as the Vice Admiral and Captains engage..."

First Order: Brec Gannan | Caio | Charlotte Reed | Juliana Alderdice | Karisa | Korynn Sol-Syna | Matma Bernu | Natasi Fortan | Rahmmon Barkai | Rolf Amsel | The Major | Matt the Radar Tech
Allies: Teica Giraan | Constantine Oliva | Captain Herlock | Defenders
Enemies: Brotherhood of the Maw | Tu'teggacha | | CETCOM | Attackers

Note: My opponents have had other things come up OOC, so I am moving forward with new engagements IC.​

 

[Gren Blidh]

Duel of the Fates
On Board PK-1 "Mercy"

​

With the next quaking of the floor that signaled the firing of the superweapon, souls mourned in silent agony as they were extinguished. They were released from this physical realm and dissipated into the nothingness of space along with their starcraft, swallowed up by the abyss to exist no more, no longer tethered to the shackles of the Force. Gren could feel their souls die. The Mercy had delivered on its namesake promise.

He removed his talisman and returned to his true form in a violent blur of energy. Behind his silhouette was a viewport that broadcasted the explosion of more ships in cold space. Gren could feel his quarry approaching; they were as drawn to him as he was to them, though they might not realize it. They had journeyed across stars to meet on this craft, and perhaps this was fate's sickening hand directing them together, but Gren would not ignore the connection. Relentless pursuit of knowledge compelled him to find out why.

The doors would give way before the two Imperial Knights, revealing an expanse as dark as the Force signal they found inside. A large, high-ceilinged space, dimly lit only by the bluish hue of bacta tanks that lined the room's perimeter in rows. It would soon become apparent that this was a chapel to the dead, the unwilling congregants being stored inside the tanks, kept alive by the substance as their soul essences were slowly harvested over time by some unknown entity that drew power from them. Their faces screamed silently from behind the glass, like a reflection of terror looking back from the water. Leading to Gren was a floor littered with the fallen; the bodies of several First Order Stormtroopers, those that had pursued him much like Juliana Alderdice and Brec Gannan but had been less successful. The smuggler's business was not with these peons.

"You took the right hand path," Gren called to them, standing atop one of the bacta tanks at the far end of the room. "What a waste."

 

[Charlotte Reed]

a d v a n c e​

"You heard the Allegiant General," Charlotte barked into her command channel. "Advance. Get firing solutions on those Star Destroyers. It looks like the Allegiant General has that Resurrection-class Battlecruier more or less handled, but let's lend him a few guns just in case. You know what they say about peace through superior firepower." She opened the channel back up to Roudac Gannan and Rahmmon Barkai and replied: "Orders received and acknowledged, Allegiant General, we are moving to position. We will be standing by for additional instructions as necessary."

She leaned over the command table, leaning forward to adjust positions accordingly, giving directions to the others under her command. "Keep an eye on those... very strange," she said, circling the Crucifix-class Star Destroyers on her command table. "I want sensor readings. Any kind of strategic data we can find. That mass at the bow -- for ramming, do you think?" she asked her lieutenant, who frowned thoughtfully and made a noncommittal noise. "Yes, I agree. Find out. But in the meantime, let's get firing solutions on them and fire. If they are built for ramming, if we can put them on the defensive, perhaps we can keep them from setting up an attack run."

"Very good, Captain."

A navy steward arrived with a cup of caff in a stainless steel tumbler. "Thank you," Charlotte said solemnly, taking it and having a sip as she watched the battle continue to unfold on the command table. The system was thick with ships and debris that had been ships moments before. If Csilla survived the encounter, the graveyard that littered its system would pose something of a challenge for them for awhile. Navigation would be impacted for certain.

And if Csilla didn't survive it... well. Best not to consider that. Not yet.

"Firing solutions coming now," said the lieutenant. They appeared on the display table in dotted lines, which would turn to solid when they came within range. Charlotte nodded and approved the solutions on the command table.

"Alert all commands that they may fire as soon as they're in range." Soon the sky outside the viewports lit up with violence as her ships came within range opened fire on the enemy Crucifix-class Star Destroyers and the Resurrection-class Battlecruiser.

Engaging: CETCOM
Allies: Roudac Gannan | Rahmmon Barkai | Matt the Radar Tech

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Objective: 1
Location: Csilla, Bunker
Allies: Brotherhood of the Maw
Enemies: Kaeli Liza
Equipment: Kyrel's Armor, Kyrel's Necrochasis, Vader's Bane Lightsaber

The Master of Ren emerged from the darkness with his blade in one hand, and the other the raw power of the dark side coursing through his veins. Chiss screamed as he cut a few down in his path. Sending the only way out they had now upside down and smoking within the snow. Those that managed to escape his path started to fire more at him, with him deflecting even more shots around, and at some back at the ones that were sending them his way. The blade within his hand feeding the dark side to him, but in return feeding off of him in return. Mixing his increased aggression with a rush of adrenaline. Every time he gained a kill upon his blade, to see the Chiss fall into the snow brought a jolt of euphoria all the same, even if the desire to consume was just as powerful.

The hulking brute moved with only heavy steps, as if he had finally cornered his prey despite the resistance. That had all changed in an instant when a Chiss female had gained his attention, wielding a sort of weapon Kyrel was not familiar with. Only suspecting it to be a typical blaster. When she had fully gained his attention by attempting to fire the weapon. the berserker tried to block the incoming blaster fire, but even with his enhanced senses could not attempt to deflect the shot. The shot poking a hole into his armor, be it a small one that had caused some of his blood to drip onto the snow. The blood in itself looked to be a black goo so to speak, with some acidity as the snow that it dripped onto caused some smoke to emerge ever so slightly. Showing that Kyrel was not any sort of man.

Kyrel stood aback as if stunned that such a strange weapon poked a hole. There was a moment of eerie silence between both him and his attacker. Before what came from the mask was a spine chilling laugh that sounded almost mechanical in nature. "Hahahahahaha! Well I must give it to you, you actually made me bleed a little... I just might have to kill you extra special..." He said in both admiration and in such a dark tone, as he slowly advanced towards her, the snow slightly smoking with a little trail of blood drops from the shot he had taken.


While his attention went from the team he was facing, now he had his sights slowly focused on the woman that had dare taken the shot at him. Something that he had to admire to ballsy move, and also the most violent death that came to his mind, as the same echo came as it had over and over. "Consume!!! Devour!!! Destroy!!!" The words now had went from a scream to an echo, as he moved with increase speed to grab the woman by the throat. Attempting to grab her by the neck, and slowly putting pressure on the windpipe, and slamming her into the ground. "Now please die for me." He said with an ironic of kindness, his attention all on her, he was unaware of what the strike team's attack on him would be.

 

[Elle Mors]

Duel of the Fates, aboard the 'Mercy'

MONSTERS​

She'd seen the words coming, long before he spoke them - the art of Dun Moch, a skill that nearly every Sith the galaxy over had in their repertoire, was as effective as it was abundant. Had her heart not been hardened, and had her resolve not been as steel, she would have faltered in that moment, let in the tiniest shred of doubt, and the flow of the tune they danced to would have altered far too quickly with that single staccato for her to have kept up any longer. Unfortunately for the Sith lord, and for the Jedi he taunted in a different context, it wasn't the passion to succeed, or the idea that she would or should triumph over either him or any other wielder of the dark side that propelled her forwards.

"I choose what I do because it is right, not because I think I can succeed."

Her words were almost scornful, as if she was disgusted at the mere notion that she could have ever been perceived as someone who might have chosen the light because of something as selfish as pride. It made perfect sense coming from a Sith, however, but it simultaneously played directly into the one catastrophic weakness Dun Moch carried with it - the risk to misspeak and instead spur the intended victim on with a strong emotional response. "I can see your grip slipping, Darth Carnifex . You could have killed me many times - yet you have not."

She stepped back, lowering her saber, staring him down as she measured the gap - and estimated the likelihood that he'd have tried to press the offensive while she would have presumably been locked in doubt. "You crave the day someone in my position might put an end to the misery you've imprisoned yourself in." Ellie offered, taking a step towards him again with a twirl of her lightsaber. "It is never too late to accept the unity of the force, even for you." She added, raising the tip of her saber as she lifted her arm up - a classical pose of Djem So, a form that was likely particularly familiar to the man that specialized so heavily in it. It wasn't a style she was preparing herself to engage him in, in fact he was likely more than aware that she favored none of the traditional styles a duelist might prefer, but it was certainly a clear and obvious signal to him that she knew much more about what she was doing than she'd initially let on through the openings he had found.

'If he thinks I live because I was spared by him, then let him think he believes so because I want him to.'

If he'd engage her in Dun Moch then she'd return the favor - with its inverse - while she prepared herself for the inevitable manic response that Sith tended to give in their denial. "Redeem yourself, you don't need to walk this road alone anymore."

"I can show you the way."

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: On aboard the superweapon.
Objective 3.: Duel of the Fates | Stop the superweapon
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Kiss of the Red Witch | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: N/A

[ Just Inside My Head ] ​

Because Ingrid had previously closed the room, so she could not leave in the traditional way either, it was left to cut a hole in the wall or floor and leave through them, or just teleport out from the small control room. But even before that, she remembered she would have to look at where armouries were nearby. She had to get some explosives from somewhere, because she hadn't brought such things with her. However, she had no luck in this.

There was no such place nearby. That’s why she decided to give a chance to fate, look at the parties who had previously fought to see if she could find a grenade at them. It was enough for her to damage one of the reactors very little, because it increases the chances of further damage and also increases the chances of it exploding due to overload. Sure, there were too many question marks and it shouldn’t have been a one-man job, but there was still no other option.

After a brief concentration, she teleported out of the room; she started invisibly but hurriedly backwards back to where the fighting was. When she had been here for about half an hour there were still living people, now the whole place was burning and sooty. With bodies everywhere, burn marks on the walls. Ingrid was able to collect roughly a dozen grenades, two EM and ten thermal. Maybe they will be enough.

She picked them up and headed for the reactor room, taking hurried steps. All she had to do was get to the generators, place the grenades after setting the timer on them, and try to leave Mercy after all that…

 

[Kirk Korrado]

I KNOW THE END IS COMIN' SOON
Maijan Paisea | Kingsley | Viribus | Kreg Jare

​

Eyes panned over the top of the dashboard, observing the hangar outside. All quiet. Too quiet. Paranoia had begun to set in.

How come they hadn't found him yet?

Maybe they knew he was here, just watching him, waiting for the little astromech on the gun to let his guard down so they could enter without being blown to kingdom come.

Hmm. That would be pretty bad, he thought.

Kirk sat up just a bit, enough to gain his bearings on his current surrounding, and make sure his sidearm hadn't fallen down the side of his seat. He looked around and couldn't see it, which meant he was goin' fishin'.

Kirk bent to the side, putting his right arm down between the seats, relying solely on feel to find the lost pistol. He splayed his fingers and patted around the floor, eventually landing on it, and gripping it tight so he didn't end up just dropping it back down again.

Halfway to sitting upright again, he felt the terrifying jolt of a hand placed on his shoulder. With the speed of an average gunfighter drawing against Jango Fett, he hastily whipped his other arm around and placed the barrel of his gun against the intruder's chest.

"Watch yourself bud," He eased himself up carefully to get a look at the fella sneaking up on him. He expected to meet face to face with one of the Crazies, and his adrenaline pumped profusely.

As he got a look at the man, a sigh of relief turned the high running of a fight or flight into a strange confusing.

"What in the Sam Hill are you doing!?"

It was Craig, or maybe it was Greg? Didn't really matter, since the guy was supposed to be halfway into the bowels of the superweapon with the rest of the team.

Then it hit him. Damn it... something must have gone wrong. Craig was the sole survivor, wasn't he? or worse, Task Force Xesh were stuck someone and it meant Kirk had to go and help them.

"What are you doin', sneakin' up on a man like that? I almost shot you!"

 

[Darth Solipsis]

Location: Chamber of War | Throne
Tags: Cedric Grayson | Ryv [SOON TM] | Mar'Sika​

The Dark Voice felt the halting sensation and jolting pain as he cradled harshly into the twisted metal that bent to his will. His body was frozen in place, planted against the mangled surface that held him. A loud hum resounded audibly around him, he had prevented his descent into the empty vacuum for the time being but the battle was far from over.

Even as his body stilled, his eyes still watched over all that unfolded. Like a predator patiently waiting to strike, he plotted his next move with a yearn to unleash the bottled hatred within. That is if Cedric was not removed from the Throne Room before he had the chance.

The Elder's eyes watched intently, locking with Cedric's own form as the cerulean blade roared to life one final time. He could not help but admire his tenacity, even in the face of death he would not relent. It appeared he sought to take the Elder to the grave with him, so be it. Solipsis scowled harshly as the Jedi springboarded from the ceiling down like a missile toward him. The Sith Master released the empyrean energies that suspended him in place with haste, twisting his body as the Lord of Ession aimed to skewer him in a daring move to finish the fight once and for all.

The Dark Lord's own weapon sprung to life as he narrowly avoided his brush with death and clashed crimson with the deep cerulean once more as both combatants shattered the hastily erected metal barriers that separated them from the void. The Elder swung, meeting blade for blade as the two separated and reached the threshold out into the abyss. Drifting away, he felt the vast cold emptiness suck the life from him even as he clung to his survival with Breath Control.

It wasn't enough. The oxygen was nearly depleted from his lungs from the struggle and all motor functions quickly began to shut down. Fading, his consciousness began drifting in and out as his body went limp in the sea of inky blackness dotted by distant stars. It was so cold, so empty, ironic how peaceful it was. Perhaps the very peace he sought to achieve his whole life was in this moment realized, his mind drifted away to memory.

"Kaigann."

His eyes bolted open, yellow orbs of insufferable hatred. The frost that quickly built up around his body splintered and broke, his wicked hands stretched out with a rigor mortis claw to grasp the void. Taloned fingers dangled forth reaching for something, anything to latch onto. The Dark Side would sustain him, his hatred, his anger. That terrible will to dominate and achieve what he had set out to do. He had come so far to die here, he would not allow such a setback to shatter his vision.

He would not die this day.

He drifted off as the Force carried him, he sailed across the sea of shadow toward the imposing form of the massive Fatalis as it approached.

Tu'teggacha ​

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Mercy Defensive Screen
Commanding: Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought
Allies: Aldo Garrick, Talon Kyber, CETCOM , Derix Tirall, Kuric Taumin, Subject 54 Havoc, Darth Solipsis
Foes: Teica Giraan, Captain Herlock, Constantine Oliva, Ryv, Thale, Roudac Gannan , Natasi Fortan , Gallius Orcana , Adhira Chandra, Auteme, Rahmmon Barkai , Olen Halcorr, Charlotte Reed, Korynn Sol-Syna, Liedran Kathause

The strain of coordinating so many minds taxed the Taskmaster to the fullest. He was the bridge between the heathen priests, the beating heart beneath the armor of rubble now surrounding the Fatalis, directing power through its veins. If his concentration faltered, then the strange defense he had devised would falter also, and might even backfire; the drifting debris they had pulled so close could easily cause damage to the Maw flagship if not properly controlled. Still, it seemed as though it might allow them to pull back into the greater security of the defensive screen, where other Brotherhood warships - and the guns of Mercy itself - could help protect them.

The enemy Commodore remained in hot pursuit, though. His actions would determine whether the strategy succeeded, and what would happen next.

In the meantime, however, Tu'teggacha felt something else tug at his consciousness. He dared not devote his full attention to the powerful presence he sensed, or all his work would collapse... but he sent out a dark tendril of thought, probing around to discover the nature of this anomaly. As soon as this fragment of his mind drew close, a wet gasp escaped his revolting mouthparts. He knew the entity well: it was the Dark Voice himself, Darth Solipsis . Immediately the Ebruchi understood; in his duel against the would-be saboteurs, Solipsis had denied them his throne room by the simplest and most brutal of tactics: by opening it to the cold void of space.

There was no time to waste; although the Dark Voice was powerful, his seething hate warming him even in the frigid emptiness, no one could survive long unprotected in the blackness between worlds. Tu'teggacha acted swiftly, retargeting one of the tractor beams he had used to pull the debris close and turning it to search for the drifting Sith Lord. To use such a tool, designed to draw in corvettes, to seek out a single body amid the chaos of a space battle was a near-impossible feat... or it would have been, had the Taskmaster not been able to sense the precise position of his frozen master. The Force allowed him to use this technology with unearthly accuracy, far beyond what sensors could achieve.

The wide beam locked around Solipsis's floating form, along with a cloud of debris around him. The Sith Lord, never helpless, had already been using his power to guide himself toward the Fatalis... but this would speed his arrival, hopefully making him swift enough to survive the long passage from the ruptured throne room. It was all that Tu'teggacha could manage for now, and once the tractor beam was locked and reeling his master in, he returned his full attention to maintaining the debris armor around his command ship. If his concentration lapsed and the NIO capital ships blew up something vital, Solipsis would have nothing to return to.

The tractor beam drew the Dark Voice in, transporting him toward the relative safety of one of the Fatalis's vast hangars...

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Retreating, armored with debris
Poisoned Veins, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Destroyed
Crimson Offering, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Retreating, firing on the NIV Revanchist
Severing Blade, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Retreating, firing on the NIV Revanchist
Sanguine Cruor, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Retreating, firing on the NIV Conqueror