Opening Pantora's Box | TSE Invasion of Pantora

[Zef Halo]

​

Location: Pantora Capital City
Objective: not die lol
Allies: [member="Seniya Nehir"] | Outer Rim Coalition
Enemies: TSE

"Ah." He gasped dumbfound at her response whilst staring at a thing he only saw as real in holomovies. Wait, not even that. Holobooks, more precisely.

Yeah, this ain't really my expertise.

She dragged his heels ahead of her shoving the masses panicking away with him not unlike a snow plow truck. He really hadn't been in a war zone before and never really looked forward to being one. Seniya? Dagon didn't know much 'bout her, never really bothered asking but now? He quickly grasped the fact she had experience in such situations. He was as stuck and glitching as the rest of the masses to the point he'd do better job as a statue than an actual statue would.

“Move!”

The order barked burst through his stationary bubble quite unnaturally. It echoed through him on a deeper level, on a metaphysical one to be exact. Otherwise, he probably would have just fainted by now in this chaos and pray he woke up alive.

"The Assembly Building. Right. Yeah. Yep. I am moving." Dagon retort came out as a scripted protocol droid response. He was slowly picking up the pieces of his wit together as sirens wailed driving the herds of people into the safety of bomb shelters that spread throughout the capital city.

Luck blessed as the detective duo made it within the Assembly Building only for Dagon to trip on an oddly shaped star. Seniya caught him before he fell and his eyes angrily locked at the object.

Wait, wasn't that the star [member="Yula Perl"] was telin' me about? The Fell Star or whatever.

The answer remained a mystery as a horde of Pantoran Guards stampeded it. He simply shrugged at the question and moved on deeper into the Assembly Building. Two spirals of stairs flanked the massive lobby they were in leading up to a mezzanine. Marble floors and walls dressed the building with aristocratic paintings standing out as these very flashy pins rich men boasted with on their lapels. Embossed curves slithered half a dozen large pillars carrying the upper floor. All would've been a marvelous view to enjoy had it not been for the mobs of people rushing around seeking safety helplessly. Guards herded the masses to the best of their ability but they were not prepared for this influx of screaming Pantorans.

In the midst of it all stood Dagon and Seniya.

He noticed a columns of well dressed Pantorans sneaking like womp rats into a side door beneath the mezzanine and behind the blockade formed by the cordons of Pantoran Guards.

How kriffin' expected.

"Follow me, sweet cheeks." Dagon pulled her hand with a surge of confidence not even him expected. He crashed at the back of a few Pantoran citizens with no apologies like a copper breaches a door sending a domino down at the blockade. Two guards fell opening a spot which the nearby Pantorans quickly exploited forcing other Guards to move to cover the others position creating an open where they used to be. The whole mess was actually quite synchronized naturally and to the logical mind it all made sense. Seeing the initial opening the mass of people ahead of the two detectives a gap in the sea split open from which the duo hurried through and pierced through the secondary opening.

They weren't the only ones, of course.

And thankfully so.

Dagon charged at the side door where the wealthy still sneaked in like well trained circus creatures. At their sight a Pantoran lady gasped in shock and moved out of their way. Perhaps thinking if they were dangerous enough to bypass the blockade of guards they might be dangerous enough to give her a few taps of blaster bolts in her abdomen.

Good call.

But they probably wouldn't.

The door led them down a staircase of large steps, each large enough for the duo to have a dance off and not trip down it. He strode down like a wild gaupa dropping the hand of Seniya so both wouldn't tumble down like a sack of potatoes.

In his stride Dagon realized his plan ended right here.

And it ended with guns pointed right at them when they reached the wide corridor the stairs led them to.

Two Pantoran Guards itched to pull their triggers at the two. Dagon held his arms up in surrender.

"Whoops."

Yeah, not much of a fighter.

 

[WolfMortum]

​

Objective: Defend Pantora's Capital.​

Inventory: Heavy Battle-Armor, Promissium Annulos, Lightsabers of Svivren,​

Allies: The Outer-Rim Coalition, The Jedi Alliance.​

Opposition: [member="Kaine Australis"], The Sith Empire.​

Support: The Jedi Vanguard.​

​

​

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"Veiere Arenais, this is Naal Rhyce with the Pantoran Assembly. Reporting attacks all over the Capital, the situation's dire. ​

I'm currently hold up at the Government building, hostiles are converging on our location. Requesting immediate support! over".​

​

"Confirmed, Rhyce. We're coming from your southern flank. Watch for Jedi, Veiere out." The Silver Jedi Master responded before moving to return his commlink to his belt and instead reaching for his two lightsaber hilts. The ignition of blue and green blades lit up the rubble beneath his feet with a snap-hiss of crackling energy, Veiere moving to acknowledge his Vanguard with a firm nod, soon to lead them all North, their location to support of existing government officials, whomever of them were still alive down there in the thick of it all.

His Vanguard weren't largely talkative, their history alongside Veiere Arenais was long lasting and went back all the way to the Temple of Rannon and Veiere's darker times. Since then however, they had been re-purposed like much of the assets of the former Dark Jedi Order, returning with Veiere Arenais to the light of all things in the Galaxy and the support against the war of tyranny that the Sith Empire was so well known for influencing, flourishing in the death and defeat of others.
For all other Force Users in the area, the presence of seven strong Masters of the Light would be nigh unmistakable, though so too would it be the same for those of the Dark Side of the Force, Veiere's presence as well as his guard like a beacon to all that were sensitive to the flow of life and power in the greater Galaxy.

The Capital had suffered, and the group of Jedi moved through the area, deflecting incoming fire away from the rest of the Coalition's resistance where possible, and engaging the militia of the Sith Empire when forced to do so. For the most part, any major threats seemed to be positioned elsewhere, Veiere hoping silently that they were the first of the strong-arm of the combatants to reach the center of the Capital City.

On his right, one of the Vanguard motioned to Veiere and then nodded off to their eastern flank. Something having caught the silent warden's attention and upon poising himself, Veiere too sensed the calling of the Force, there ahead of their gaze lay a looming shroud, invisible to the eye though felt through the Force and often meant threat or danger. For a moment, lingering upon the edge of his mind was a presence familiar to Veiere though he couldn't pinpoint where he had felt it before. All that he could assume was that the Force was calling to them, and with that familiarity in the battlefield, also came a need to meet it head on.

Picking up speed, Veiere and the Vanguard's approach turned to a paced run in order to keep their strength about them, yet make haste in reaching the area and hopefully doing so without further risk to the Capital Building. Their weapons did them no favors, they were clearly not looking to hide their presence as their blades of energy blazed in the open field, the walls of ruptured street buildings being their only shelter from any stray fire. Eventually they would be upon the target they had sensed, and now Veiere realized with much more clarity just whom it was that he had felt from so far away.

[member="Kaine Australis"] came into view as Veiere was the first to step around the corner and into open view of the Mandalorian. His armed escort having escaped his notice, the Force seemingly void where they stood, speaking loudly as to the possible possessions they might have carried. Behind him, followed the Jedi Vanguard, though they remained there and did not look to come between Veiere and their opposition.

"You should not have come here..." Veiere called out to the Mandalorian force, Kaine specifically. The man was connected to Veiere's family, House Arenais, and was a consequence of galactic politics that Veiere had prepared himself to face, yet no matter how much training and time spent assuring himself of his justifications, facing down one of his former friends and allies was never going to be that simple.

"Stand down and leave Pantora, Kaine. I'm only going to give you this one chance".


TSE: [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Aut-X"], [member="Vanessa Vantai"], [member="Khonsu Amon"], [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]
ORC: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Dax Fyre"], [member="Atlas Drake"], [member="Gray Venasir"], [member="Acaleus Thorn"], [member="Gilamar Skirata"], [member="Loreena Arenais"], [member="Cotan Sar'andor"], [member="Yula Perl"], [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"], [member="Cuan Kunn"]

​

 

[Coren Starchaser]

​

The rubble exploded and the sound echoed in his ear. The Pantoran looked around. That… what was that? Looking up, the man couldn’t believe his eyes. The Coalition had barely been here, but… was this their fault? A… that monster had three heads. That was what just hit the bunker? Hearing his name called, the sergeant turned. There were civilians and support staff running. His armor was damaged but functional. He shook his head, snapping himself out of it. Leaning down, he grabbed his rifle, before he was pulled down into the makeshift barrier.

“We need to get the people safe.” Said the Lieutenant, to all the gathered. Some were better off than the sergeant, others, a bit worse for wear. One of the private’s spoke up.
“I don’t mean to be… nevermind. How are we going to protect against that!” The private pointed. There now wasn’t just the hydra, there was the second one moving in from the upper atmosphere. A second private, or a civilian who grabbed a gun pointed to the second one. “There’s two of them!”

The commanding lieutenant called for everyone to get down as another blast came at them, he didn’t think it was a Hydra’s blast, but at this point, in this storm? He couldn’t tell. “We need to get the people away from the fighting. You’re men and women of the Pantoran National Guard. We have a job.”

People were still not moving and a bit concerned. And they all knew they could hear footfalls close. The sergeant and lieutenant made it up over the small wall, to see Sith incoming. A red lightsaber the distinct sign of them, especially from within the holovids. Red always was bad. Taking aim, the next thing they noticed was an ear shrieking sound, and a devastating white light.

Objective: Defend the Light and the Plane
Allies: Cotan | [member="Yula Perl"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Zark"] | [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] | [member="Romi Jade"]?
Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]

As he continued on and the ever stubborn Yula stayed with him, Starchaser all but surrendered that fight. He hated to admit it, but Yula was useful addition to the team. He knew that Joza was just going to kill him, for even thinking that. But there wasn’t much else he could do. Force knew he wasn’t going to say anything about it though. No, he was smarter than that, didn’t need it on the record for mama Perl. “If it gets heavy, I’m push you away from the line, Yula.” Dax and Cotan? They could figure their own situation out.

"Yeah, well, glad to have you, Romi.” He said as he grinned at the blonde. Adding her to the team would definitely be a smart move. He knew she would fight well and hard. It was good to have her here. Especially with the likes of Dax. He knew the man used his powers for the right reasons. But he still was wary of the Marshall’s methods.
“Oh you’re going in first, man.” He grinned. “And I’m Alliance. Sith are my bread and butter.”

He was hearing Cotan, but something wasn’t going right. With Romi here, a meld was going to be the best, and she had the power to monitor and mediate the meld. Maybe even keep Coren from overcharging himself at the extent of others.

Her lightsaber was igniting, and he watched her. Was this what… He could feel another sense of Valor, battle meditation? Was Romi… No. This one was screaming. Calling the Force to him as best he could he was flung away, in order to avoid the shriek. As he got up, he was hearing her speak, disoriented and trying to get his bearings. The soldiers, the Pantorans nearby, he had to protect them. And he had fought Romi at her best on the darkest days.
This wasn’t it.

A hand went up and a solid blast of photonic and fire energy was launched, not the devastating Light that the Force could do, something he could manage off the cuff. It was concussive, and with the right focus and guard down, it was going to be quite painful for a dark sider. His intention was to knock her back, slow her down for the moment. He shook his head and gave the Crusader pendant a grab with his hand, there was power within it. With Romi knocked aside, he turned to the Pantorans.

“Get these people out of here. Find the emergency bunkers. Anyone who is willing to fight? We’re making a line at your next bunker. No Sith further. Contact your officers in the City. Provide landing zones to [member="Atlas Drake"].” The Jedi Master, the one who just blasted the banshee back for the moment. He could hear the Jedi turn to the others, specifically the one that the Pantoran recognized from HoloVids as [member="Dax Fyre"].

“Put out a warning, Romi Jade has flipped.”

Not knowing what that meant, the Lieutenant turned to his enlisted. “You heard him. Raise the Guard. We push back the Sith today.” There was a sudden boost of bravery, of valor, and that was in no small part due to the real [member="Romi Jade"], but the soldier didn’t know. It was General frakking Starchaser, he must leave power everywhere he went. Before he could even turn back the Jedi Master had ran back into the fray, a blue lightsaber igniting.

Maybe we can win this. He was hearing the orders go out.

Elsewhere in the City, a Captain received the orders. His heavy soldiers, and some Alliance Pathfinders were already in the streets fighting the Sith back. The dragon was something else, but the Pathfinders were helping to lure and trap Sith under heavy gunfire. Black guard were moving, and the Captain nodded.

“Let’s keep up the pressure!” He said as he turned the corner, squeezing off some rounds at the incoming enemy. Buildings were being evacuated. He just hoped going underground was going to be enough.

[member="House Zambrano"]

 

[WolfMortum]

​

Objective: Defend Pantora's Capital.​

Inventory: Heavy Battle-Armor, Promissium Annulos, Lightsabers of Svivren,​

Allies: The Outer-Rim Coalition, The Jedi Alliance.​

Opposition: [member="Kaine Australis"], The Sith Empire.​

Support: The Jedi Vanguard.​

​

​

​

He and [member="Kaine Australis"] went back a very long time. Kaine had been there to support Commenor when his Mandalore had been held back by her Non-Aggression Pact with the Sith Empire, Kaine had brought Clan Australis to fight in Commenor's defense as an independent force. On the eve of that battle, he had invited Veiere aboard his capital vessel where the Jedi Master and [member="Alkor Centaris"] had spilled some needed blood over an old dispute in the traditions of their warrior culture. It had been the last time he had seen Kaine, and it had been a very long time since then, yet the man standing before him had also attacked a number of worlds under the Silver Jedi Order, as well as being present during the battle over Eshan, for which Veiere had unfortunately watched over the Holo-news, and heard of the tragedies that occurred that day.

"If you put any stock in family, you'll leave them out of this" Veiere responded, watching the Mandalorian slowly raising his fire-arms towards Veiere, whilst his Lightsabers remained at his sides, blades still active, though their tips pointing low to the rubble beneath their feet for the time being. "The blood on your hands is an insult to the very ideals that my family has stood for" Veiere growled in protest, his voice strong in his anger over his families tumultuous state, "You once defended my people against the Sith over Commenor. Now you are fighting in their War, having built an Alliance with those who attacked and tortured my Wife, threatened to execute my children. You have no right to speak to me of Family", he and Alkor had once spoken of honor, yet there was no longer any to be found in the visage that had once been a brotherly figure in Veiere's former life.

"If you have the balls to fight me, Kaine...-You won't hide behind your Pistols" Veiere spoke upon a sharp tongue, looking down the barrels of the hand-canon's that Kaine had directed his way. The Force was a torrent of energies around Veiere, though unseen between them, the Jedi Master wasn't without his own forms of protection and yet he didn't seek to make any aggressive move just yet. What he did instead was, what some might consider, out of character for a Jedi. "Single combat. If you're so beholden to your Mandalore, then I challenge you to single combat under your people's code of honor. Melee arms, or none at all but only one of us walks away this day".

TSE: [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Aut-X"], [member="Vanessa Vantai"], [member="Khonsu Amon"], [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]
ORC: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Dax Fyre"], [member="Atlas Drake"], [member="Gray Venasir"], [member="Acaleus Thorn"], [member="Gilamar Skirata"], [member="Loreena Arenais"], [member="Cotan Sar'andor"], [member="Yula Perl"], [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"], [member="Cuan Kunn"]

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Vanessa Vantai"] [member="Darth Morbus"] [member="Khonsu Amon"]
Allies: [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"] [member="Atlas Drake"] [member="Acaleus Thorn"] [member="Cuan Kunn"]

Aboard the Seed of Mandayaim, Baar’ur-class Medical Frigate just before the Thyrsian interdictors were activated

The wait was agonizing. Like the other ships in the large flotilla the Seed of Mandayaim had locked down their cargo and moved non-essential passengers to holding or their own quarters, but the situation they were in was not lost on the captain. He gripped the arm of his chair tightly waiting for the order to jump and get his people to safety. Something beeped on the bridge and his heart fluttered.

<Sir, we've got the jump calculations and coordinates. We're free to jump!>

<Well then what are we waiting for? Let's get these people out of here...>

From underneath the Emperor's war fleet the hyperdrives of several of the Mandalorian ships spun up and launched them into hyperspace. The Seed of Mandayaim was the last to jump and as the stars began to stretch into oblivion and the black of space became blue the captain felt a wave of relief wash over him. It was only for a few seconds though, as the blue began to change shade into a light purple, and then a violent red. He stood from his seat, a knowingly bad decision. He'd seen this many times before during the Sith Wars. Even before the alarms started blaring he understood.

<S-Sir, we're being pulled from hyperspace!> How far did they get? The aging medical frigate began to shudder, its hyperdrive straining and shorting out systems throughout the ship. The vessel was flung violently back into the Pantora System, its power fluctuating as the ship attempted to compensate for its hyperdrive nearly failing.

<All hands to battle stations! Get this ship back up as fast as you can!> He cursed under his breath as he looked out of the viewport to see the collection of cruisers and transports drifting dangerously close together. The life ships had jumped and been pulled right back into the fight...Right between the Coalition and Sith Imperial fleets. No man's land. Fighters struggled to swerve around the mass of ships, only to crash into some of the transports. Without shields the fighters cracked holes into two of the MM-BR transports, venting bodies. He cursed under his breath. He knew even in their suits the debris being flung about would kill most of them, but they had to try to save who they could.

<Get transports ready to fly! Those transports are going to need to be evacuated! And get power back online!>

---------------------​

https://soundcloud.com/user-981212204-987651608/27-reckless-anger-ms-gundam?in=justin-jeffries-1/sets/muse​

​

Gil was seeing it, but he wasn't understanding what exactly he was seeing. The ship's sensors indicated that none of the Sith vessels had their interdictors active, yet their lifeships...were floating, ripped from hyperspace, in no man's land. The bridge was a buzz of activity in the aftermath. As ships were slowly regaining their systems status reports were being flung to the Ketyadyr. If this ship had been ripped out like that he had no doubt he'd have hundreds of deaths on his hands and was grateful he'd decided to stay and fight.

As the reports came through it was determined the Thyrsian fleet had activated their interdictors, stopping retreat. On top of that, even more ships were now dropping in out of hyperspace behind them. He cursed under his breath, but things had to continue as planned. Those may have been their life ships, but every man and woman aboard that vessel was Mandalorian, many of them veterans of multiple wars. They could handle themselves in this unexpected set back.

<Are the Bes'uliik teams ready?> He asked gravely.

<Y-Yes sir.> Gil grunted in reluctant satisfaction.

<Good. Tell them I'm on my way. We'll be leaving soon.> The trip to the hangar was long, a quiet rage burning inside him. He knew how to use that rage in a fight, and he would make the emperor pay for his tricks and the suffering he'd caused the Galaxy. The hangar was bustling with activity as they prepared more fighters to join the swarm of Needlers already deployed. Gilamar looked to the beast riders and then to Atin, the beast that his father and grandfather rode into battle and the friend that he himself had taken to fight the Sith many, many times. With a smirk behind his T-shaped visor he brushed a hand over the aged and laser scored beskar before reaching into a nearby box and pulling a plasma mixture from it. A metal panel beneath Atin's nose opened and the droid shuddered once before Gil plopped the mass into the eagerly waiting maw. It shuddered again and he gave it a pat on its shockwave generator rods.

<That's a good girl. Its time to go now, are we ready?> The droid took a step back and expanded its flight wings and manuevering flaps, its servos and gears creaking loudly. The vocabulator unleashing a loud, bass filled roar that echoed in the hangar and drew a few eyes. <Atta girl!>

The flight of war droids left the hangar, their engines roaring and their riders hooping and hollering over open com channels. Situated beneath the Behemoth II now, the Ketyadyr began a long and arduous turn to face the vessels that had dropped in behind them and open up its turbolasers into the belly of the beast. The G-forces of Atin flying through the Vaccum made Gil's teeth clatter but there was nothing like flying through space as turbolaser bolts flew around you in a spectacle of light and destruction. The wings of his droid folded inward as it moved into a spiral, cutting its engines and letting its momentum carry it forward as it rolled out of the way of other riders and incoming fire before spreading its wings again and letting its jets burn full throttle for no more than a second before returning to attack speed. The flight of metal droids headed towards the ventral hangar.

Oya'cye​

Kyr'am​

Mare'cye​

Darasuum​

Oya! Oya!​

​

Summary

Spoiler

• Fleet:
• Relative Location: Still some kilometers beneath the Behemoth II and War Fleet Black Iron
• Life, Transport, and Storage Ships of Echoylir attempted to jump to hyperpsace but were ripped back into Pantora system by Golden Company interdictors
• Ketyadyr began turning towards the vessels under Vanessa's control
• Ketyadyr and the rest of the defense force opened fire on the belly of the Behemoth II
• Ketyadyr launched bes'uliik riding team
• Preparing to launch more fighters, coordinating Needler squadrons

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

​

Allies:

• [member="Darth Prazutis"]

Enemies:

• [member="Coren Starchaser"]
• [member="Cotan Sar'andor"]
• [member="Yula Perl"]
• [member="Dax Fyre"]
• [member="Zark"]
• [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]

Location: Somewhere on the outskirts of the Pantoran Capital City

Down he descended, clouds parting before him as he guided Adramelech into a free-fall dive. The beast responded eagerly to his master's commands, folding his massive wings against his body for streamline aerodynamic descent. Beneath them the city came into view, surrounded by a shimmering dome of energy projected from somewhere within the metropolis. Around it assembled the arms of the Empire, the Ferratas landing somewhere far beyond the range of entrenched Pantoran artillery and mortars to disgorge their cargos. Elephantine walkers, some as large as fifty-six meters in height and some as small as twenty-two meters in height, strode across the stark tundra towards the city. All around them moved smaller walkers, most on two lithe legs, and repulsorcraft resplendent with long-range artillery cannons, anti-vehicle weapons, and scything beam cannons.

The probes skirting around the edge of the deployment would capture the most glamorous shots of the Imperial Legion as it moved across the plain, to be repackaged into new propaganda holo-vids once they had returned to the Empire. Such was the nature of the Sith war machine, constantly in motion to destroy the enemies of the Empire and twist the minds of its citizens against the next enemy.

Five hundred meters separated the Emperor and his grisly mount from the cold hard ground, and with a yank of the reins he bid the beast to level our and extend his wings. Soaring over the landscape, the Emperor could survey where he was most needed. A flash of light and a tingle in his spirit directed him towards an area between the scar made by the Goliath II and the shielded city. He maintained his altitude as he encircled the area, his sharp eyes scanning below for a suitable target. A small host mingled around a collapsed bunker, and he sensed the distinct odor of Coren Starchaser mingled down below.

With the sun at his back, the Emperor again urged his beast into a dive. With wings still spread, the fell beast descended down towards the Emperor's enemies. With minds connected by instinct and dark magic, Adramelech understood exactly what his master intended and needed no further commands. At the last second, Adramelech pulled back up into the sky. But before he did so, he opened his fang-laden maw and spewed forth a horrible noxious contagion from his gullet. The putrid fumes blanketed the land over which he passed, capable of catching fire the moment it came into contact with anything that could ignite the gas.

The Emperor urged his beast around for another attack.

 

[Atlas Drake]

Location: Intercepting the Guerdon
Objective: Science
Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Gilamar Skirata"] | [member="Loreena Arenais"] | [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Dax Fyre"]
Enemies: The Sith Empire - [member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"]

COMMAND DECK​

KRV UTOPIAhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/134861-duinuogwuin-class-star-destroyer/​

​

"Unknown Resurgent-class in hailing, sir. Tight-beam only."

As if there was anything to say.

"Answer but tell them to stand by," Atlas said anyway. The longer they could delay combat the better their chances were of formulating a plan of action, "I need options people."

Uncomfortable silence greeted him. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair, struggling to follow his own command. Only the dull thrum of not so distant explosive shockwaves vibrating against the outer hull and the insistent pinging of the STARSCAN station could be heard on the bridge. His eyes widened. It was only theoretical, but these were desperate times.

"Do we have anymore hyperspace monitor probes?" he demanded suddenly.

"Y-yes, captain. But they won't get far with those gravity wells."

"I'm counting on it," Drake ran a few calculations from his command throne before quickly filling the bridge in on his plan.

There was no guarantee it would work, but if they could rig ion pulse warheads to the monitor probes there was a chance they could fire them at the enemy interdictors like a hyperwave bullet. They would be drawn out of of hyperspace well before detonation range, but on minimal thrusters there was a chance that the normally harmless devices would penetrate the Sith detection net.

"Tell the Revenant to follow my lead. Open a channel."

Whoever was on the other end must have their fingers on the trigger by now, they had been kept waiting long enough.

"Attention unidentified vessel, this is Captain Atlas Drake of the KRV Utopia. You are violating sovereign Pantoran space. Power down your weapons and interdiction systems or we will have no choice but to open fire."

Atlas knew negotiations were futile, they just needed to buy time.

COMBAT OPERATIONS​

PANTORAN DEFENSE SHIP SPEAKER OF PANTORAhttps://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Nebula-class_Star_Destroyerhttps://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Nebula-class_Star_Destroyer​

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"I assure you Captain Tatsu," Admiral Rejal's alien features flickered through the interference and smoke, "All Flags Protocols are in effect. Any available ships within range are on their way."

"We'll be dead before they get here," the Pantoran line officer coughed, wincing as another station exploded in a hail of sparks from the latest Sith fusillade, "Perhaps we should reopen negotiations with your Coalition."

Gallows humor, that was a good sign. But that sick feeling in Tatsu's stomach had not gone away. Their shield reserves were at twenty five percent, already he could see hull breaches forming in the Golan VIII defense station around which they had elected to make their stand. From the Speaker of Pantora the captain had directed his fellow Home Fleet officers to rotate on and off the front of the line, a futile gambit to stretch out their shield reserves against the oncoming tide. Two stations on the outer perimeter of the moon's defense network were burning and half a dozen Pantora warships were floating hulks at least.

There were just too many ships.

"We won't abandon you, Pantora," the uukablian's voice was gravely resolute, "We're with you until the end."

BATTLE BRIDGE​

JUDGE LAWSHIP THE VERDICThttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/116914-the-verdict/http://starwarsrp.net/topic/116914-the-verdict/​

​

Marshal Rex Tyrosus stared out the Darr Itah's main viewport at starlines and quietly seethed with rage.

It was the same uncontrollable anger that had driven him from the ranks of the New Jedi Order and into his new life as a Judge of the Outer Rim. His fellow lawmen had seen Rex's passion as something that could be channeled, not an unforgivable sin. Now he was entrusted with command of one of the deadliest weapons in their Coalition's arsenal. It was a true honor, but he could not help but feel like the Verdict was cursed by its former masters. They had been out of range for Utapau, for Skor II, for Terminus. Tyrosus was waiting for a war. Any war.

When he heard broken saber on the ShadowNet, he knew his patience and temperance were finally being rewarded.

A rapid response group under the Judges' aegis had been formed along the Coalition's more civilized fringes. Strike cruisers from the Alliance Remnant, needle ships from the Reclamation Fleet, even a passing Tof privateer clan had gleefully answered the call when their shipmaster heard the clink of Rex's talons over subspace comms. And then of course there were the Judges. For all Tyrosus knew this was the most that had gathered in one place at a time in history.

Rex's face was bathed in the crimson glow of a countdown timer, ticking the minutes away until hyperspace version.

"Give me somethin' to shoot."


Summary

Spoiler

• Crew of Utopia begin rigging ion pulse warheads to hyperwave monitor probes, hoping to short circuit Thyrsian interdictors. Captain Drake conducts aggressive negotiations.
• Speaker of Pantora continues to rally remaining United Defense Fleet vessels around central Golan VIII defense platform.
• Multiple destroyed Pantoran capital ships, several hull breaches on primary Golan VIII.
• Reinforcement wave under the Verdict are approaching through hyperspace. Approaching extreme sensor range.

​

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Location: In the fray of space near Pantora
Objective: Find some fuel! And not die!
Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Atlas Drake"] [member="Gray Venasir"]
Enemies: The Sith Empire - [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]


There was no response to her call. Out of all the vessels in the area, her S.O.S. wasn't heard. Lori's heart sank into the pit of her stomach. From what she could see as she maneuvered the Jaster's Sparrow around, it only seemed as though most of the smaller vessels were fighting. The much larger Super Destroyers seemed to be just...waiting.

"We have to get out of here, Arla. Our shields will only last for so long once we become dead in the water." Then they'd be dead. Neither her parents or her brother would know what happened. Maybe Gray would let them know that she was there during battle and given that they wouldn't be able to find her, they'd know in their hearts that she was taken out.

"Gravity wells are deployed, Captain! We can't even make a jump if we tried! We're caught in a net. How do you want to proceed?"

Lori's mind reeled over different strategies. But given that Jaster's Sparrow was just a Mantis class vessel and not some Destroyer, the amount of strategies that she could use was minimal. Especially when one had little fuel to spare.

But maybe...

"Dead Drop Maneuver."

"Captain?"

"The Dead Drop Maneuver!"

"You've never done that in space. It's more for planetary atmospheres."

"I know! But it's our only option outside of surrendering or going down to the surface." Lori didn't want to be used against her parents again. She went through that already when the First Order captured her during one of their operations on Zakuul. "Let's try to break through their net!"

Lori steered the Jaster's Sparrow towards the Golden Company's vessels that maintained the gravity wells, creating what appeared to be an unbreakable barrier to prevent ships from escaping. With Arla shooting at the fighters getting close to their six, Lori maintained course, hoping that their smaller size would make them appear as little threat. Once the Jaster's Sparrow had enough momentum, she cut the power from the engines, sending them on a powerless drift, hoping to slip through like space debris would.

Lori's palms started to sweat as she kept a firm grip on the controls, the Jaster's Sparrow shuddering as the shields were struck by enemy fire. "Please work...please work..."

 

[WolfMortum]

​

Objective: Defend Pantora's Capital.​

Inventory: Heavy Battle-Armor, Promissium Annulos, Lightsabers of Svivren,​

Allies: The Outer-Rim Coalition, The Jedi Alliance.​

Opposition: [member=Kaine Australis], The Sith Empire.​

Support: The Jedi Vanguard.​

​

​

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Leave him. Kill his men.​

​

They were words that would be felt through the actions of the Battalion II, spoken not aloud but over the Mandalorian's internal commlink. [member="Kaine Australis"] accepted Veiere's challenge and immediately moved to rid himself of any further threat. The Jedi Vanguard however were alert and swift, with or without the power of the Force in the present battle that had erupted. Ysalamir were peaceful creatures when one didn't go and abuse the natural world, but they offered an alternative to Non-Force Users where battle was concerned, and here Kaine's Jedi Hunters were able to create a vacuum of space that silence even the Force and removed all of the Jedi from their abilities and connection to it, whilst they stood within close proximity to the opposition.

The Vanguard lept into action as soon as the Anti-Force Troops began to circle around Veiere Arenais, their SD-101 "Devastator" Assault Cannon's opening up and showering the area in a hail of fire, though they were heavy and their mobility was far more restricted compared to the Vanguard whom were trained to be fast and agile out in the field of combat. Sabers flared and sounded with charged energy as their blades spun through the air seeking to deflect and fend off any shot that came too close, whilst also moving to circle the opposition using the debris for cover or elevation into the air, their physical training being put to the test while they sought to find any weakness or flaw, targeting the Hunter's lack of speed and awaiting their opening to strike back.

Meanwhile Veiere stepped forward, his blue and green blade met with the ignition of Kaine's black sabers as the Jedi Master brought both Lightsabers sweeping out in a horizontal arc, a scissor motion that aimed to cut the Mandalorian in two via the mid-section. Knowing Kaine however, his weapons weren't his only defense. Mandalorian Iron was known for being lightsaber resistant, but there were many other alloys that were known for proving useful against the Jedi and Sith archetypes alike. What Veiere had yet to discover was that Kaine's armor also contained Cortosis, which would prove most troubling were he to disarm his former brother in arms.

TSE: [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Aut-X"], [member="Vanessa Vantai"], [member="Khonsu Amon"], [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]
ORC: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Dax Fyre"], [member="Atlas Drake"], [member="Gray Venasir"], [member="Acaleus Thorn"], [member="Gilamar Skirata"], [member="Loreena Arenais"], [member="Cotan Sar'andor"], [member="Yula Perl"], [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"], [member="Cuan Kunn"]

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Equipment: Zaudraka Lightsabre Pike Imperator’s Raiment SIF-7 Minos Vibrdagger 2x Sonic Detonator
[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Yula Perl"] [member="Dax Fyre"] [member="Cotan Sar'andor"]

The sound inside the shuttle was much worse than in the ship. Joycelyn and her squad were jostled this way and that as nearby explosions battered the ship’s outside, or when the pilot had to veer out of the way of obstacles. But the infantry grit their teeth and held fast. Darth Vornskr the Second was with them. She too felt the nerves of entering battle, but Joycelyn knew their morale hinged on her determination. That was the power of command.

Outside, the Sith-Imperial Legion was descending upon Pantora. Artillery and beasts of war were rolled out to be used against the Pantoran people. Blackblades and legionnaires were shipped out of massive carriers or shuttled down from ships still in the sky. It was a beautiful sight that Joycelyn saw from the viewport of her dropship; a legion hellbent on destruction descending upon a shielded city, cast in shadow by the ships above while a pillar of destructive light tore the earth asunder.

It was as though she watched death in slow motion

Their ship was then rocked harder than before. Joycelyn felt the wall catch her as she fell back. Smoke was beginning to filter in from the floor and yellow firelight shone through the viewports. The ground was close and coming closer. They were free falling.

“Mount up!” -she shouted as she pushed off from the wall, raised her hand, and then waved it in a circle.

Mounting the speederbikes, the squadron turned the ignition to make them ready. The ship buzzed with the sound of revving engines. The gravity shifted dangerously, and Joyce made a chopping motion with her hand, the dropship creaked and complained. She then put her hand forward forcefully, and the back bay of the dropship opened wide, revealing sky and distant horizon, rotating dangerously.

“Onward!” The bikes shot off toward the sky, out of the back of the dropship.

They rose into the sky, like a wave, putting ten, fifteen meters between them and the falling dropship before they started to fall. Joycelyn could see that the bridge of the dropship was blown asunder and lit with flame. The ship crashed violently into the ground, crumpling like paper, then vanishing in a ball of fire. The speederbikes jerked as their repulsorlifts bounced off the ground. Three bikes crashed, two in each other, one by landing too steeply. That still left a dozen and Vornskr.

They veered around, circling the crash-site while Vornskr considered their direction. She saw the form of the Dark Lord’s drake, Adramelch, flying down to a landing in the distance. With the silver shaft of her pike, she pointed the way and the speeders followed in wedge formation.

"On me!"

Where the Dark Lord was headed, that was where the war was often thickest. That was where she belonged.

 

[Ellie Mors]

The Metalhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PH_d_D4-jM

Location: Upper Atmosphere
Allies: [member="Darth Prazutis"]; [member="Darth Carnifex"]
Enemies: Jedi and their ilk

Sixteen hours ago..
"And you want me to do what, exactly?"

"Kill anyone you find, destroy whatever you can - burn it to the ground."

"No holding back?"

"No holding back."

Present Time

The drop pod pierced through the atmosphere like a blaster bolt through fabric, surrounded by the dim red glow of burning ozone and flakes of burning metal from the heat of reentry, while the Firrerreon ran over the conversation she had with her lover just the day prior. It was a rare sight to see her fighting in any capacity in recent history, as the necessity to keep collateral damage to a minimum was too much of a restraint for the witch-turned-Sith to place on herself without losing any kind of combat efficiency. To have the permission to finally let loose told her several things, though the most important of which was that she needn't needlessly keep any destruction she'd cause to unimportant areas that she wasn't even needed at. It meant this was a lesson for the galaxy - something similar to the burning they'd committed to the Alliance some years ago - to remind them that there was little mercy to be found in the iron grip of the dark side, and secondly it was that this was an enemy that they didn't need to impress through petty ideologies and propaganda. A return to the simpler times of war, when she'd carried a spear and impaled countless enemies on its tip with little regard to the feelings of their underlings - back when fear was king, and through the might of power all was made right.

'No holding back.'

The sudden explosive crash of her drop pod against the surface of Pantora sent a ringing through her ears that forced the words echoing through her mind to become deafening - a roaring chant of permission to do harm, and a request for her to embody what she had been in ages past. The burning scent of fabric and the greenish grey smoke of burning plastic filled the interior of the small pod as flames danced across her skin and burned away the restraints that kept her bound, flames that licked across the golden scales of armor that lined her body harmlessly as mobility was restored to her. A small hand reached out for the front of the pod and, with a gesture reminiscent of water being flicked from all of her fingers, the hatch was blown clean apart as she rose to stand, her small stature now permitted such freedom by the gaping hole she had created. As she let her hand fall to her side, on the hip opposite where the other was already resting beside, the saberstaff at her side flew into her hand from its perch on her hip and a deep magenta hue overtook the dust and smoke that her arrival had created as one of the blades sprung to life.

'No holding back.'

Forward she stepped, the crawling orbalisks that clung to her pale flesh providing her with the only protection from the chaos she had now stepped into, and her violet gaze swept over the surrounding landscape as the dust settled and the smoke cleared. She could make out the sight of Kaine's ridiculous entry in the distance, and she could feel the presence of her beloved some distance further beyond that through the bond they shared. Neither of these immediately drew her attention as the sight of civilization that laid before her pulled in her gaze, with what few shuttles that were left fleeing its skyline. Three words echoed in the back of her mind as she began her march towards her new destination, willing herself to reinvigorate the remnant of her past that lingered beneath the surface.

 

[Yula Perl]

Objective: Help civilians
Location: Pantora surface
Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Zark"] | [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] | [member="Romi Jade"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]

Yula snorted. “If I get hurt? Uncle Dax, I don’t think any of us are making it out of this unscathed. And Coren, just concentrate on your battle with the Big Bad. I’ve got the survival skills of a roach.” She snickered at Cotan’s comment next. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Zeltrons, vicious breed. I don't think even pheromones could save us now.” Suddenly, in the midst of their discussion, Romi screamed. Yula crumpled to the ground as she covered her ears, at first thinking that the other woman had been struck with something given their situation. But the scream was unnaturally loud, likely aided by the Force. With her ears ringing, the Zeltron missed the monologue, but it was clear from Romi’s aggressive posture what was happening.

As Coren took care of Romi with a blast of…something, Yula rose from her crouched position and looked around them. The city was devastated, and they were milling about the wreckage. The comm in her ear crackled, and a new voice could be heard through the static.

"… Pantoran Diplomatic Guard…ORC and allied….evacuate civilians…Assembly …..and Papanoida station. Can anyone…"

Yula winced at the voice so close to her ear, adjusting the comm to try and get the signal to come in better. Wasn’t this supposed to be an ORC channel? Must have been hijacked. Right…there are still people here. The realization dawned on her that she probably couldn’t hear their screams over the din of the Sith monsters.

Her eyes locked onto what remained of a nearby building and she jogged towards it, climbing her way through the rubble with ease. Coren and the others could handle Romi, and she wouldn’t be too far away. Emily clambered down from Yula’s back, skittering around the remains of the building with her lifeform scanner activated. A series of eratic beeps sent Yula clawing her way through the debris, and she was soon joined in her efforts by the little droid. Soon she could hear a muffled cry for help, and together they managed to unearth a desperate native woman.

As she was helping the battered Pantoran out from what remained of her home, another winged beast swooped low and unleashed a torrent of black smoke across their location. Yula didn’t know what it was, but the twisting feeling in her gut she had learned not to ignore was present.

“Get down!” She shouted, grabbing the woman and pulling her into a nook in the twisted duracrete, in time for the draconian fumes to explode into flame.

 

[Iresias Sirax]

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"Go ahead, show yourself."

Iresias snapped her head in the direction of a voice deeper within the sewer, quite similar to the voice that was inside her mind before. She pulled away from the wall she rested on, slowly approaching the source. She could feel it within her bones, the aura of something comparable to kinship. But this entity was stronger, much more adept within the Force.

A challenge.

Pale, icy blue illuminated her path. The blade itself was a victim of moral debauchery, a hapless bystander wielded by the hands of a maddened child hellbent on asserting herself as a harbinger of perfection, the next in line to bring others to their knees so they may hear her every moment of anger, bend to every petty whim, feel her wrathful scorn in the form of a lightsaber. The blade wept, stained with the irrational acts that were forced upon it.

It surged and arced with instability, hissing with corruption.

Finally, she saw it. A pale-red glow just several feet beyond where she stood. "We finally meet..." Iresias twirled her lightsaber a couple of times before taking the stance of Makashi. "What do you want from me."

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

​

Thankfully, he didn't have to search very long. Some short distance ahead of him, another voice rang out, and with it came the sizzling of a lightsaber blade. The blade was weak, the crystal inside struggling against the corruption of its wielder. Unstable, fizzling, the opposite of the synthetic-crystal focused blade of Tsisaar's weapon. He kept his facial expression blank and unresponsive as she postured before him, taking on a fighting stance. Makashi, the duellist's form; one that had only grown in popularity in the last centuries, with lightsaber wielders regularly facing each other again.

Tsisaar took no such stance, standing placidly, his blade held loosely at his side; he wouldn't reveal his knowledge so early on. "What do I want from you?" he rasped, curious. "That is entirely dependent upon your own choices here." He strode further forward, the light from the weapons mingling more fully. The girl was slightly taller than he was, though thinner built than he used to be. However, as his body sagged and faltered further, that seemed to be rapidly changing. Still, no noticeable cybernetic limbs that he could sense or hear, though he couldn't tell if the armour was only that, or a source for life-support technologies.

Even then, though, she could prove useful, in some manner.

"You can choose to disregard me, to continue to be a pretender to the vaunted ideals of justice and compassion that most force-sensitives within the coalition are expected to represent." His voice dripped with condescension at the thought. "From what I sensed earlier, though, you don't seem to be very good even at pretending towards such a status." The terror of those who died in close combat was stronger, more long-lasting than that of those who died from simple bombs.

Tsisaar could still smell such terror surrounding Iresias, fresh, meaning she'd killed recently. A useful thing to know, as it was proof that she didn't fall under the ideals of the coalition's Judges and Jedi. "Of course, if you chose that path, then we would be forced to do battle. As inexperienced as you seem..." He cocked his head slightly, black eyes staring into the orange of Iresias's own. "Even if you managed to avoid death, you would only be escaping into a world of infirmity, decrepitude, deformity, and agony. An ignoble end, even by the standards of those who consider themselves the galaxy's defenders. I imagine that end doesn't much appeal to you."

If her facial features were any indication that she held the same vanities as other Zeltrons, it certainly wouldn't. Soft and unblemished, except through the Dark Side's forced recolouration of her irises. The corruption had set in, though it hadn't spread far; even if it had, there were ways to cover that up, and he had no doubt this woman would seek those out. "The other path, however, is a path to greater knowledge, greater power than you can otherwise obtain." He switched off his own weapon, stepping within the range where Iresias could attempt to strike him down.

"If you swear fealty to myself, and later to the empire, I can teach you how to use your gifts," he promised, reaching out with the Force; while the girl may have been too strong-willed, too powerful in the Force for him to completely compel her to his side, he could still guide her thoughts more subtly. Placing more weight behind his words, making them sound more enticing, more inviting. "Everybody who knows the Dark Side knows that it brings power, but you need the guidance of those more knowledgable, those who are stronger than you before you can even think of unlocking your true potential...roaming about murdering civillians in a warzone will never bring you more than some fleeting satisfaction."

He stretched out his free hand, for Iresias to take it and follow him. "Take my hand, join me, and the power you seek can come within your grasp," he insisted. His posture had changed, from that of a cautious warrior; now he looked like a twisted parody of the iconography found in some of the older religious sects of the galaxy; the benevolent saviour, reaching out to lift their flock from the depths of their suffering. "There's only one thing you must do to make your deepest desires come to pass."

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Acaleus Thorn]

Objective: Stop the Sith army outside the capital
Location: Invisible in Pantora atmosphere
Equipment: E.G.A.S, Skorpion Evo, Wrist Lightsabers
Allies: Needles and Venus (Cross of Mejai), [member='Gray Venasir'] , [member='Scherezade deWinter'] and the ORC ( [member='Loreena Arenais']
Enemies: [member='Darth Carnifex'] , [member='Aut-X'] , [member='Kaine Australis'] , the Sith Empire

Cross of Mejai
36 x Hammerhead Gunship

"We won´t be able to enter!" scream turning the Batarian around. That ship was difficult to engage but at least they diminish the quantity of dropships and dealt significant damage to that cruiser. For now, he addressed another issue. At least 7/8 of all the dropships managed to pass the atmosphere and in the info received was better than the expected. The Cross shield resisted very well against damage, and the anti-turrets played well "Acaleus we to drop to the planet. The Sith army already deployed droids and soldiers in the planet, but their armada was met with an equal fleet of Coallition ships. The planet army is in need of assistance" said Venus while entering. The starfighters acompany it into the planet, with the Batarian following them.

The image of the battle covered the horizon, with ships firing their guns overlap with black clouds of the smoke coming explosions and fire in the ground. Ships landed or taking off to provide air support. That image became more filled with Acaleus small army flying on top of the enemy army "Venus, we measure wrong, fly close to the city or the ORC position!" the radar began to function again, and showed enemy and allie forces. And there were some on the capital, but it wouldn´t matter if they let the entire army to penetrate the city "Start firing at...is that a dragon?" said Acaleus while giving the pilot seat to another of his soldier "Everyone drop! Im not paying enough credits to sit on your asses" "We would do this for free but if i can request a raise...?" "I will throw you out of the ship" the hangar door opened and Acaleus jumped without any delay, followed by the Needles.

( [member='Joycelyn Zambrano'] ) The HUD showed several speeders and a free falling ship "Single line 1 click in front of them" in few seconds they landed and took out their bows "Prepare..." they were getting close by the moment, the needles took out their respective explosive and ion arrows "Aim!" years of training and teaching them to have a perfect grip in life and death situations would suffice. Acaleus bleed with them and he knew each of their fear. This wasn´t one of them "FIRE AT THE GROUND!" every arrow would explode, sending the speeders or maybe their riders away. The Cross would assist with covering fire, and a way out if needed. The Batarian was doing a quick scan, flying over an army ( [member='Darth Carnifex'] ) in stealth mode, sending data to Ac and the Cross.

 

[Iresias Sirax]

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Iresias' grip tightened upon the hilt of her lightsaber, her gaze narrowing as the creature speaking to her came closer. A wave of prickling anxiety came over the young noble woman as its face came into view, and more profoundly, his presence. It dwarfed what potential Iresias believed she possessed. She was weak and finally realized it. Her stance became uneasy, her shoulders began to visibly tremble as she began to sweat upon her brow, beneath her mask.

But what was truly a mask, and what wasn't? Iresias had never known her true self, always abiding by the confines of preexisting ideals and the wills that hold dominion. Did she exist only to mindlessly murder? Reflections that never came to be, emotions too deeply repressed to unravel and understand. It all suddenly came to the forefront of Iresias' mind and body, her torso becoming taut with stress.

He knew what she was, this thing. He understood the inner workings of what afflicted her mind and very spirit, and that the people she had been working for were truly nothing to her. They saved her life once, but thanks was a concept unexplored by Iresias, and there was no reason to form any ties to their agenda. They were a platform, a means of interaction and opportunity. She very seldom, if at all cared about anything or anyone else around her.

She wanted to charge at him, strike him down with all her misguided fury, but physically she could not. No matter how much she struggled, she was paralyzed by pure dread and could only play out the scenario in her mind.

"The other path, however, is a path to greater knowledge, greater power than you can otherwise obtain."

His lightsaber cut out, leaving the pale blue of her own to illuminate the two of them. Tears began to stream down her cheeks behind her apparatus as she fought to retain a very weak position of stoicism. Yet here in this moment, there was a choice and potentially a chance to grow in strength. Implications of a greater calling beyond the dull simplicity of killing just because one can.

"If you swear fealty to myself, and later to the empire, I can teach you how to use your gifts."

To swear servitude to another. The one thing that Iresias absolutely rejected, and thus possibly indicative as to why she never had any masters prior. But if she were willing to fight and die for those of the ORC, then she'd truly be an utter fool. Her body felt weak, almost limp as she dropped out of her stance. Where was she to go if she refused? Was she willing to die in a sewer, only to be forgotten? No, of course not. She felt somehow compelled by the creature's words, reassured in a way that no other person could manage.

"Take my hand, join me, and the power you seek can come within your grasp."

Iresias looked at the hand he offered, slowly but quite apprehensively she reciprocated.

"There's only one thing you must do to make your deepest desires come to pass."

With a ragged exhale of exhaustion, Iresias responded with a query. "W-what must I do?"

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Kiff Brayde]

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ALLIES: [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"] [member="Atlas Drake"] [member="Acaleus Thorn"] [member="Cuan Kunn"] | ORC​

ENEMIES: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Vanessa Vantai"] [member="Darth Morbus"] [member="Khonsu Amon"] | TSE​

​

To be honest, Kiff knew very little of the Sith Empire. He knew that they were centered around yet another cult dedicated to worshiping the force. Kiff was no cynic of the living force; the Vicelord himself contained the power to move things with his minds, but Kiff didn't see the need to dedicate religions to it, much less entire nations. From his point of view, all these religions, cults, orders, whatever you called them, they brought the same to the galaxy: division and war, using the lives of trillions to argue theology. Yet he did know the Outer Rim Confederation; in his days before being a Confederacy officer, he'd visited the neighboring Confederation quite a lot. It's ports were friendly to wannabe captains, and even now he could count on the ports of the Outer Rim Confederation to service his ships in the event that they needed it. So when some little bird from the Ministry of Secrets, a strange man by the name of Holt, had whispered to him that the Outer Rim Confederation was under attack, he had mobilized what he could as fast as he could've. Luckily Kiff kept most of the Armada on standby, ready to be mobilized at a moment's notice (such were the requirements for being the marshal of the sector closest to the enemies of the CIS) and doing so was no big task. Now, he was ready to fight, and the Sith Empire could go to the seven hells of Malachor before taking over a little snowball and it's swamp moon from the ORC.

​Impulsive as ever, Kiff had brought along his signature 186th Battle Line, a division of the Miranda Armada that most accompanied him on excursions such as these. The 186th was not the only toys he'd brought to play, however. Kiff was not a man of incrementation, and that was demonstrated by the handfull of carriers, star destroyers, and cruisers sprinkled in. Crazy or not, Kiff was prepared to rip the Sith Empire and anyone else who dare hurt his friends a big new one. The Sith Empire could have Wild Space all they wanted. If they wanted to take the Western Reaches, however, they'd have to fight for every cubic meter of it.

​The entirety of the Confederacy Armada suddenly dropped from hyperspace, what had been the empty void now teeming with the bulk of the Miranda Armada. The little bird that had informed him of the Sith Empire's intrusion had also made him aware of the interdictors placed in the system, and Kiff had been careful to micro jump around them as to not disable his entire fleet. It was a painstakingly slow process, but they were finally here in full might and glory. In the center of it all, cannons bristling and hangars full of fighter squadrons itching to be launched, was the Victator, the Invictus​-class Battlecruiser that was the flagship of High Marshal Kiff Brayde and leader of the small armada. Aboard it stood Kiff himself, dressed in his finest uniform and with a smirk on his face. He'd never faced the Sith Empire in open battle -- officially, there was a non-aggression pact between the Confederacy and the Sith Empire, so he reckoned that this would the the only time he'd have the chance for a while.

However, he did recognize the golden suns of the Sun Guard. He had little love for those mercenaries, even when they'd played the friendly part over Eshan. Now seeing those cruisers intermingled with the Sith Empire fleet, and other ships firing against the Pantoran stations, his anger brimmed with a special sort of vengeance. His last encounter with the Sun Guard had been in the grey ruins of the Echani home planet, where he'd almost lost his head over a Mandalorian boy that both he and a Sun Guard centurion had laid a claim on. He could still remember the embarrassment that he'd felt as he yielded, to save the life of himself and the painfully few droids around him. It was a gross sore that stood out among his list of accomplishments, and he had a mind to give the Sun Guard the same embarrasment that they'd given him on Eshan, only ten fold. It was time to teach the galaxy that Kiff was no longer a boy to be trifled with.

It only took a quick look to assess the battle. From what he could tell, the bulk of the Sith Armada was in the middle between Pantora and Orto Plutonia, facing away from his fleet with their focus on the Golan VIII defense stations. It would be a fatal error that they had unknowingly made, and Kiff was eager to exploit it. A simple push should break their lines, and if done quickly enough before they could about face the forces of Kiff's fleet would smash the Sith Armada against the Golan VIII stations. There was a small Mandalorian fleet, but a simple scan showed that they were paying no attention to Kiff's arrival, and he decided to do likewise. If they wanted to make trouble, the Mandalorian Exiles would have it no better than the Sith Empire. Once Kiff's forces had made a clear path through the Sith Armada, carriers would be able to unload troops and armor onto Pantora below, and hopefully then the day would be won.

"Fire all engines and bring frontal deflector shields to full power. Prime all weapons and prepare to give the Sith a beating to last a lifetime," Kiff ordered. "I want all fighter squadrons launched to act as our vanguard. Have the smaller cruisers support the heaver Star Destroyers, and make sure that the line is not breached." Lieutenant Commander Jol, first officer aboard the Victator nodded solemnly before relaying the orders to whoever needed to hear them. Older than Kiff by at least a decade, Jol was much more somber and did not share the same eagerness that Kiff had for battle, yet he was a close friend and trusted counselor. Kiff's smirk widened as he turned to the transparisteel window, watching as the Sith Imperial fleet drew nearer. "Alright, you bastards," he muttered to himself smirking all the while, "Let's see what you're made of."

​

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FLEET

Spoiler

• Invictus-class Battlecruiser
  ~ CNS Victator
• x8 Valiant-II class Star Destroyers
  ~ CNS Arkanis
  ~ CNS Valiance
  ~ CNS Valor
  ~ CNS Cherube
  ~ CNS Rocke
  ~ CNS Umber
  ~ CNS Forsworn
  ~ CNS Miranda
• x5 Nest-class Carriers
  ~ CNS Hardshell
  ~ CNS Rickrack
  ~ CNS Halllast
  ~ CNS Nordson
  ~ CNS Valliant
• x8 Augrim-class Heavy Cruisers
  ~ CNS Windbreak
  ~ CNS Retribution
  ~ CNS Doppelgänger
  ~ CNS Pamarthe
  ~ CNS Eshan's Memory
  ~ CNS Fury
  ~ CNS Judgement Day
  ~ CNS Requiem
• x2 Diamond Mk II Cruisers
  ~ CNS Lumberfall
  ~ CNS Barrium
• x4 Sigma-class Heavy Assault Dropships
  ~ CNS Cherobyl
  ~ CNS Dartmont
  ~ CNS Xavier
  ~ CNS Apecs

​

 

[Shade of Decay]

​

​

And so she did move to grab his hand.

Her grip was soft, weakened with trepidation caused by the turmoil she was experiencing. That was to be expected; even the armour she was wearing, the image of strength she attempted to express, could not hide the truth of what she felt. Tsisaar focused on that turmoil, that trepidation, the desire and confusion. These emotions could all be harnessed, one could draw strength from them—both the one who felt them, and the one who engendered them.

Tsisaar gripped Iresias's hand in his own, his grasp firm. For a fleeting moment, they stood there, postured as allies. But Tsisaar's grip grew stronger, crushing down on the woman's hand. The Force swirled around him, the empyrean energies thrown into a raging, ethereal storm as he drew upon them more, dropping any pretense of good will. Whether Iresias struggled against the crushing grip or not, it would not matter; if she called out for help, or tried to command him to stop, it would make no difference. Any anger, terror, or anything else she felt would become nothing more than fodder for his consumption.

His cancerous, rotting features twisted into a sneer of profound contempt and hatred. Contempt for the weakness he saw; hatred, because she was another living being who would never have to suffer the degradation that he was so viciously fighting against. Contempt and hatred for himself, as well, now released so that he could draw on those, too. His facial tendrils twitching, he leaned in close, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Survive," he commanded, when the energy built to a peak.

His grasp grew tighter still, and he released the energy into Iresias; had he been standing a few feet back, arcs of bright lightning would be leaping wildly through the air between the pair. Instead, however, the electrical energy passed directly from his hand into the girl's body, a coursing wave of pain that would burn its way down every neural pathway it could find. Her bones would glow like neon lights, her skin burning beneath the armour, exuding a constant wave of pain that Tsisaar would draw on to keep up the attack as long as he pleased.

If Iresias had any hope of fulfilling his command and proving herself worthy of instruction, she would have to find a way to stop the attack. Either diminishing the effect of the blast, though she didn't seem well trained enough for that; breaking free of his grip, which she didn't seem strong enough to do while he was drawing so deeply on the Force; or, perhaps, if she could muster the willpower to do it, she could raise her blade to strike at him.

If she could do none of those, however, she would be left nothing more than a charred corpse clothed in half-molten metal by the time he was done.

[member="Iresias Sirax"]

 

[Kahne Porte]

Location: Legacy / Capital City Dockyard
Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Kana Mikasa "][member="Khan Korynth"]




"Is it?" Kahne inquired as he glanced towards the newcomer and then glanced in the direction she had indicated. "Well, injured will be coming through at some point. They always do..." Kahne trailed off, as he thought about how many wounded there was already. The only regret that he had in this life was that he wasn't strong enough to prevent the deaths of so many innocents in these wars.

"Get in touch with local allied forces, there should be a medical camp nearby." The Jedi spoke towards the Alliance personnel with him. The men here were more than capable of attending to these matters. His main goal was to deliver these supplies and get into the fight.

"Who might you be?" Kahne inquired in a friendly tone as he closed the distance between them a bit, standing just a few feet away from her. Sensing through a certain wave of darkside energy about her. That was the way of things in today's life. Things weren't just split between Jedi and Sith anymore, there were some Sith out there that actually cared about human life. The Jedi Master was the first to open his eyes to this when The First Order and Sith Empire destroyed the last strong beacon of justice in this galaxy.

And then they came to their aid, the Confederacy, and most of them were Sith.

"Your with the Confederacy, aren't you?" Kahne said, his own intuition providing him with some information before it was given.

 

[Darth Morbus]

​

Location: Amid the Emperor's War Fleet in space​

Objective: Seek out the light...​

Allies: The Sith Empire​

Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition, [member="Romi Jade"]​

​

​

As the battle raged, Morbus' senses moved amid the chaos. Pain, fear, suffering, as injured, dying or dead sentients filled the area with sensations to draw on. The dark side was growing stronger, slowly leeching into the Sith Lord aboard the meditation sphere, as he drew on those sources. Since the dying and fearful were so plentiful, it was almost an infinite pool upon which to drink. Yet, weaving through the spreading darkness was a light, almost a beacon, as a Jedi sought to sow hope, bravery and goodness... it was sickening, really, enough to make Morbus sneer and mentally gag.

Who are you, beacon? The Twi'lek thought, as his mind moved further from his body, extending beyond the physical. Come out to play, show your mind to me!

Seeking the source, Morbus giggled to himself, enjoying the sensation of astral nexu and womp rat, as he pursued his prey. The ships, the explosions, the soldiers, the very stars and planets, all faded away and left simply a burning light in a world of dark. That light was focused across the battlefield, near the planet Pantora itself, bright tendrils reaching out and touching nearby allies of the Jedi...

There you are, little light, Morbus cooed, as he licked his sharp teeth. He sent his astral self toward the source, weaving like a shadow, swirling and void. You can't touch so many and remain hidden for long. Let me into your mind, let me see you, let me feel you... come on, little light, I'm waiting... join with me.

Within the meditation sphere, Morbus' lekku continued twitching, as he dug his clawed fingernails into his legs and drew blood. The interior of the chamber where he sat swirled with dark energy, as his evil aura continued to build pressure and potency, powering his projection and attempts to breach the mind of the Jedi.

It would only be a matter of time.