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The Marshal looked at his old friend with a deadpan look, "Coren...just shut the feth up and stab the Sith please, I got a planet, kids, new-born, and semi-traumatized wife to get back to...and a niece to find, 'cause we'll both be dead if we don't find Yula. Now get going." And with that, Dax slingshot the light side master with the Force towards the dragon soaring up above in the air. Dax put his hands in his pockets and watched Coren's gentle arc through the sky. He felt rain fall on his cheek, and the clap of thunder in the distance...this was no ordinary storm...and Dax had a peculiar feeling that he might be testing out his new technique a little sooner than he'd anticipated...
The man turned around and walked off in the direction that the Sith speeders had gone, taking Yula with them...she always was a troublemaker. Really took after her mother there. But what was a man to do.
The man took out a cigarette as he walked and snapped his fingers, a small flame appearing between his thumb and index finger. He used it to light the small rolled piece of paper and tobacco. Well, no rest for the wicked. He still had work to do.
HIMS Elidibus TSE: [member="Khonsu Amon"], [member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Vanessa Vantai"], [member="Sar-Ka-Roi"], [member="Taeli Raaf"] ORC: [member="Gilamar Skirata"], [member="Atlas Drake"], [member="Cuan Kunn"], [member="Iron Giant"], [member="Acaleus Thorn"], [member="Vela Alya T'Ser Sipal"] OBJ: Reinforce and aid the Sith-Imperial Armada at Pantora. ENGAGING: [member="Kiff Brayde"] LOCATION: Aboard the HIMS Elidibus, Command Center (Bridge).
Seventh Fleet entered the system hard, but there was nothing that couldn’t be addressed back a shipyard later. The chorus of the Elidibus’s crew unbuckling from their crash out chairs could be heard throughout the dreadnought. “Battle analysis now, [SIZE=11pt]Moraguse[/SIZE].” The Lord Admiral ordered, her voice firm as she rose from her seat with the Vice Admiral in step with her. The rectangular holoprojector table welcomed her, while the circular radar on the monitor in front of it was a chaotic array of blips.
Morgause utilized the Elidibus’s scanners in conjunction with War Fleets Black Iron and Leviathan’s reports. “Highlighted vessels in blue belong to the Kathol Republic, vessels highlighted in gold belong to the Golden Company.” The modulated voice of the AI began to inform the Lord Admiral of which blips belonged to who. Mandalorians had moved swiftly onto the Behemoth, “who’s in charge over [SIZE=11pt]there[/SIZE]?”
“Vantai.” Vice Admiral Sentongo beat Morgause to the punch. Lord Admiral Raaf raised a concerned [SIZE=11pt]brow[/SIZE] but said nothing further on the matter. “Morgause are you able to retrieve footage from the Behemoth?”
“I am working on it, Vice Admiral Sentongo.”
Lord Admiral Raaf adjusted her uniform’s jacket as her hand moved along the holoprojector table whilst crews prepared the Elidibus’s weapons and ran another check on the ship’s structural integrity. “Vessels highlighted in lavender belong to the Confederacy.” Again, Raaf looked up with concern this time her brow furrowed. “Scan them.”
“Captain Angeles, are we on?”
“On, ma’am?”
“Ensure that our boxes are rolling, Captain.”
It meant to say, to ensure that the Elidibus’s [SIZE=11pt]cameras[/SIZE] and sensors were recording every bit of the battle from the moment that the ship entered the system. “Morgause please see to all this information being saved to a remote network for the Armada’s retrieval later on.”
Vice Admiral Sentongo opposite of the Lord Admiral turned to examine the battle at hand, “orders, Lord Admiral?”
“Engage formation, Alpha-Galidraan-Delta-Four adjust pitch two degrees up and three degrees portside. Where’s Pavanos?” Raaf asked, punctuating the air as her firm tone bit on the name. Captain Angeles joined the admirals at the table and handed the Lord Admiral a datapad.
“Marshal Pavanos has departed with Ghost Squadron, and is now escorting Darth Arcanix to the surface.” They reported plainly even if a bead of sweat threatened to slide down his somewhat sunken cheekbones. Angeles was thin for a man of his size, he reached just under one point nine meters tall. Shoulders sloped with little grace, something even the uniform could not make up for. He stood over both Sentongo and Raaf with ease before being sent back down to monitor the [SIZE=11pt]navcom[/SIZE] team.
“You’re wondering if we should send Tarkin.” Sentongo’s quiet as she looked on at the battle that laid before them. The Golden Company seemed locked between two foes, the Mandalorians had their focus on the Emperor’s flagship. Therapy Command’s mere presence made the Lord Admiral shiver in disgust. Having seen and faced them during the onset of the Great Galactic War. Then there was the Confederacy, biting at the Empire’s heels picking off ships here and there, “give the-”
There was a pause from the Lord Admiral as something caught her attention. From her [SIZE=11pt]peripherals[/SIZE], she caught sight of what unfolded on the viewscreen. A superluminal weapon with an aim for the Kathol vessels. Her eyes went wide as she watched it wretch across the void, “by the bloody Balance...” Raaf’s voice escaped her at that moment - she had heard of solar ionization weaponry before, read on it in the past. But. But, this was something else entirely to see it in person. A momentary distraction Raaf thought and one she could ill afford, time was of the essence now.
“Vice Admiral, you have command here - Captain Angeles with me, Morgause ready a shuttle for the Dowager.” Lord Admiral Raaf ordered and while most would ask what in the blue blazes she was doing. For the Elidibus’s [SIZE=11pt]crew[/SIZE], this was normal, as the Lord Admiral scarcely commanded the fight from the dreadnought. Rather, she used it as bait - making use of it as a set piece and more often than not opposing navies bit.
By this time Marshal Pavanos and her squadron were on their way back and ready to engage the enemy. While the Elidibus sent a small contingent of shuttles toward the Dowager which now pushed forward ahead of the dreadnought. Seventh Fleet’s forces were estimated just under forty thousand meters moved in their spread head formations and pointed lines, and the Elidibus alone carried at least thirty-six starfighter squadrons. The Hunter carried another thirty-three starfighter squadrons with each of the Vindicators bearing another seven each. Altogether it [SIZE=11pt]amounted[/SIZE] to just under ninety squadrons between the five ships, which meant nearly a thousand individual starfighters would be launched on this day.
TIE Fighters unfolded from the bellies of their carriers. Bombers, superior starfighters, defenders, interceptors and everything in between now made their way toward the Coalition and their allies. Morgause began analyzing data as soon as the fleet’s sensors could gather it. As the Elidibus’s BattleNet distributed the necessary information, Lord Admiral Raaf’s shuttle contingent arrived aboard the Dowager.
There she and Captain Angeles made haste for the bridge.
“Ghost One, this is Herevan I want interception and defensive screens set, you and your wing [SIZE=11pt]are going[/SIZE] for an offensive stance. Use the droid wings we can replace them, but we cannot replace our pilots.” It was the Lord Admiral’s first order as she stepped up toward the rounded holoprojector table of the Dowager.
Static crackled on the communications until Angeles cleared it up, and then the [SIZE=11pt]Marshal’s voice[/SIZE] came in quite clear. “Didn’t think you cared, Herevan. I thought for a second you and your niece shared that ice cold Galidraani heart.”
“Your glibness does you no good, Ghost One. [SIZE=11pt]Herevan[/SIZE] out.”
“Angeles, inform Sentongo to move the Elidibus to the front of our formation, nose pointed forward I want the Rearguard on interception screens there. Nothing gets through, am I clear?” The redhead’s voice maintained its authoritative tone, Angeles nodded in acknowledgment and moved to carry out her orders. She needed the Rearguard and the Elidibus to play the part of the command group - to act as a decoy.
The Morgause meanwhile communicated to the Dowager via encrypted command channels. The Dowager’s holoprojector table updated in real time, whilst the radar feed behind it reported opposing force strength. “Angeles inform the Sondheimer, Easley, [SIZE=11pt]and[/SIZE] Vaughn to engage their interdiction fields.” Part of Task Force 79, the three vessels maneuvered with their escorts a pair of Bercey’s each with the Callistos and Harrowers rounding off the central escort group. Holding down below them, the Resurgent-class HIMS Dosuun.
While not a direct successor to the fallen First Imperial’s Resurgent, this particular vessel did well enough to hold its own. Its job now was to work as a command point for the support group. Which for now represented coordination efforts for its fighters and defensive systems. The Lord Admiral meanwhile contemplated her plan of attack, there [SIZE=11pt]were[/SIZE] a lot of moving pieces in the void and the Seventh Fleet only added to that chaos.
Captain Angeles sidestepped out of the way of the Dowager’s commanding officer. Lord Captain [SIZE=11pt]Maptu[/SIZE], a [SIZE=11pt]korunnai[/SIZE] who stood a little over one point seven meters. She had a medium-athletic build and her thick black hair had been pulled back into a braid that sat intertwined in a bun at the back of her head. [SIZE=11pt]Maptu[/SIZE] with her hands behind her back quietly approached the holoprojection table, as the hums and tones of the consoles and crews seemed to quiet down.
The command center, forward operations or the overlook as it was known among the crew sat raised just half a meter above the rest of the bridge. “We can fire mag pulse bombs, Morgause is calculating the trajectory now.” There was an almost serene quality to Maptu’s voice, calm, quiet and direct.
As soon as Morgause had displayed the numbers, Lord Admiral Raaf quietly gave the order. “Start with their lead vessel, tight spread they’re staggered so we won’t get the optimum effectiveness, but enough to get their attention.”
“Ready the plasma, we’ll fire them after the bombs reach their targets.” Raaf followed up Maptu’s suggestion with plasma bombs - or shield busters as some the crew liked to refer to them as. Whether or not they would live up to this reputation remained to be seen. Raaf then ordered the Dowager’s Hailstone Mass Driver Cannons be prepared. “Enable the cannons’ ionization fields,” she said as the Dowager’s cannons were systematically loaded.
“Target, Lord Admiral?” [SIZE=11pt]Maptu[/SIZE] inquired with intrigue.
“The Invictus,” Raaf answered without hesitation as the Invictus had been free to fire upon the Sith-Imperial Armada without fear of repercussion. At least until [SIZE=11pt]now[/SIZE], that was, “have the crews wait until my mark, I want these weapons to cascade toward their targets.”
The Confederacy’s fleet for all intents and purposes on the sight of the Lord Admiral were in a staggered formation. That was as best as she could tell from the data provided, the Seventh Fleet dropped rather unceremoniously off to the Confederacy’s lower left side. The formation that Raaf had called earlier moved them into a pointed spear on the horizontal plane. Vertically however they would resemble an arrow giving wide berths to long range and artillery vessels like the Dowager.
Seventh Fleet’s starfighters were assembled in mostly defensive and interception screens keeping tight to the fleet itself. Small offensive wings like the one led by Air Marshal Pavanos would run out toward the opposition in [SIZE=11pt]a smaller[/SIZE] hit and run tactic, a rather conservative play given the numbers.
The Dowager’s weapons now ready to fire would do so in waves with the mag pulse being the first to launch from their barrels. Second, would be the plasma torpedoes which would have a more precise aim for the Invictus. The third controlled wave would be from the mass driver cannons, where their ionized shells would hope to find purchase [SIZE=11pt]along with the Invictus’s shields. Preferably they would much rather score against the hull, but in the opening [/SIZE]phase, the Dowager would take what she could get.
“All weapons report ready,” [SIZE=11pt]Maptu[/SIZE] reported and was about to ask if the Dowager had full permissions on the Invictus when the Lorrdian made his presence known.
“Pardon the intrusion,” Captain Angeles interjected his dry as he cleared his throat, “the Dosuun is requesting a target.”
“You may fire all weapons when ready Maptu, Captain Angeles have the Dosuun fire on the lead Confederate carrier, energy weapons first then kinetic. I want the [SIZE=11pt]Bercey’s[/SIZE] to keep the interdictors free and clear of enemy projectiles and weaponry.” A brief pause as she collected her thoughts on how to make use of the two Harrowers. “Relay to the Harrower and Harkun to engage their fighters in defensive screens as well. “Ganymede and Io are to engage the second Confederate carrier at these coordinates, focus fire energy weapons first then kinetic.”
The support group now had its orders and their weapons would now be in the charging phase while their gunners locked in on the targets. [SIZE=11pt]Meanwhile[/SIZE], there was still the matter of the Rearguard which was playing mock command group at this point, then there were the Vanguard and Assault groups. Due to the Confederate’s staggered formation, Lord Admiral Raaf would have to be careful to not get her own ships caught up in the crossfire.
While Seventh Fleet may have landed off to the left and below the Confederate fleet, it was still at long range distance so only certain weapons would be able to actually fire at this distance. Others were useless until either they or the enemy closed in, but Raaf did not want to underestimate the Confederate forces. There was still the matter of Therapy Command and where they were in correlation to both Confederate forces and their own.
Raaf could hear [SIZE=11pt]Maptu[/SIZE] giving the orders to fire. The Dowager unleashed her weapons as ordered, the mag pulse bombs would land first followed by the plasma torpedoes and lastly the hailstone shells - from there the Dowager would fire any and all weapons that were within the Invictus’s range. Meanwhile, the Dosuun’s guns also fired targeting one of the Confederate’s lead carriers, Ganymede and Io would soon follow up with their own weapons fire.
“Angeles relay to Task Force 77, anti-starfighter and anti-capital screen Alpha-Thames-Besh-Four.”
The Lorrdian was quick to ensure the comms team aboard the Dowager relayed the orders to the Assault Group. Forty-eight Bolt III picket corvettes lurched forward into the black with [SIZE=11pt]an aim[/SIZE] for the Star Destroyers, aided by the Muhktiars and Chargers. The two Santiago and three Shards would follow behind, this group would work toward the Confederate star destroyers. Laying out anti-starfighter weapons fire well before they reached them.
“Task Force 74, anti-capital screens Alpha-Thames-Besh-Six.”
Once more Captain Angeles would relay the information through the encrypted fleet communications.
“Task Force 75 hold to defensive pattern Alpha-West-Enth-Zero.”
This is where the Rearguard would play the part, Elidibus would hold her position guns silent but ready to take on anyone who crossed her path. The Revenge would lead the Imperial and Vigil II-class vessels, Guardian and Gallant along with the veteran crewed Dagger, Daring, Devious and Dauntless into a defensive hold around the Elidibus keeping the flagship guarded between them. Whilst the vanguard took on the role of the rearguard moving behind the assault group.
HIMS Relentless and twin Stormcloud-class vessels Tempest and Typhoon remained at the rear of the assault group as the former looked to close the gap between them and the Confederates. The Marauder and Maverick, with the four Tachy-class pursuit [SIZE=11pt]corvettes[/SIZE], overtook their compatriots. It looked as if the Imperials had thrown a [SIZE=11pt]lance[/SIZE] in their direction.
Formations were tightly held as the Sith-Imperial forces tore across the black. Signature gray and white color schemes with wedge and triangular tipped vessels with their weapons on the ready to fire once in range. As it stood verdant-hued weapons lit up the void as they screeched across the stars in the hopes of hitting their marks.
Xo’Xaan-class Star Destroyers under the orders of [SIZE=11pt]Vice-Admiral[/SIZE] Sentongo make the aim for the opposing cruisers, working with the fleet as they slowly closed the distance. Not nearly as fast as the assault group but this was the play, long-range weapons would work for so long and in order to get the most effective rate of fire from all ships. Seventh Fleet would have to work to close the gap. So it stood to reason that after their initial salvo, they would begin the climb toward the Confederate fleet.
Elidibus Carrier [SIZE=11pt]Group[/SIZE] or Task Force 72 remained in the central of the formation reorganizing their lines to make up for the lance-like launch of the assault and vanguard groups. Athena-class shield frigates maneuvering to activate their shields across the Hellstrom and Vindicator-class carriers. The worry now was of something coming down between the expanse of the Sith Empire’s Seventh Fleet. The Hellstrom confident in her long-range weaponry unleashes her payload on one of the Confederate cruisers.
In that [SIZE=11pt]event[/SIZE], the Elidibus and her acting guards would close the gap, but until then, the Lord Admiral along with Captain Angeles and Lord Captain Maptu awaited the damage reports from their opening salvo.
HIMS Dowager opens fire on the CNS Victator with mag pulse bombs, plasma torpedoes, [SIZE=11pt]and[/SIZE] ionized mass driver rounds. This is then followed up by any long-range weaponry the Dowager possesses with an aim for the Invictus as well. [Dowager fires, from all 72 space mortar launchers, all 12 torpedo tubes, and utilizes ball bearing 512mm shells from all hailstone mass driver cannons.]
The HIMS Dosuun makes [SIZE=11pt]the aim[/SIZE] for the Hardshell with all long-range capable weapons fire.
The Callisto-class ships, Ganymede and Io target the Rickrack with their [SIZE=11pt]long-range[/SIZE] weapons fire.
Dreadnought Elidibus moves to the point of the fleet’s formation but holds fire, ready to answer or intercept ships crossing her path. This is the same for the rearguard, Task Force 75 as they hold their fire and wait for the opposing fleet’s response.
Task Force 77 led by the Bolt-class detail groups work to close the gap between them and the Confederate fleet and will automatically fire on opposing star destroyers. The goal is to perform hit and run attacks with hopes of drawing the Star Destroyers toward the approaching Task Force 74 and the rest of the assault group.
HIMS Sondheimer, Easley and Vaughn part of Task Force 79 the support group lay down interdiction field to maintain control of primary hyperjump point. [SIZE=11pt]Bercey’s[/SIZE] are holding in defensive screens, ready to fire on vessels that cross their path.
Full fleet composition and acquired targets below:
TASK FORCE 71 - COMMAND GROUP
1x ELIDIBUS-CLASS SUPER STAR DESTROYER [10,000m] - SET PIECE, Fighters Deployed.
Untempered ferocity was not able to make up for a lack of skill, as Iresias quickly learned. Tsisaar's ghostly blade cleaved through her elbow joint as if it wasn't even there. Tsisaar, despite his normally stoic demeanour, grinned to himself; an accurate strike like that was something to be proud of. Besides, it meant that the arm could be easily reconstructed, unlike the other. He stretched out his left hand as Iresias's forearm fell, her now-deactivated lightsaber hilt jumping from the dead fingers and landing among Tsisaar's own.
Before he had the opportunity to activate it and force her to surrender, though, she, inexplicably, kept up the attack.
As the woman's hand exploded, Tsisaar was carried back by the Force, Iresias's attack sending him flying backwards down the tunnel. Shards of bone flew by, some cutting into his body, though he gave no outward reaction as to the damage. Instead, as he landed on his back he quickly rolled further, coming back up on his feet, one lightsaber in each hand.
He stretched out one lightsaber-grasping fist, calling upon the Force. "Enough," he commanded, and Iresias would feel as the Force began to press in around her, immobilizing her, and ready to crush her at a moment's notice. "Your skill may be lacking, but your strength and tenacity are admirable," he stated, walking back towards Iresias, maintaining his grip the whole while. "But now this test is over. Surrender, and I may yet let you live."
Reduced to nothing, drained of ambition. The Force had taken its toll upon Iresias' body, her nose beginning to bleed as she came ever closer to the edge of finality. A weak, twisted grin spread across Iresias' pale face as she relished the moment of her brief success; however, there was nothing left within to keep the noble fighting. No more arrogance to display, only the reality of her possibly imminent demise. She felt her body become constricted, immobilized; her breathing became disturbed, her lungs being squeezed slowly.
What came as a surprise was the hesitation Iresias felt, and the small glimmer of respect given by the Sith. This moment was strange for the noble woman, in a way that could only be described as... proud. This was not a normal experience, but due to the circumstances, it could have been a side-effect of her exhausted, depleted mind. Yet somewhere deep down, it made the disturbed child feel honored. But would she honor the loss of her sovereignty? Would she bend to the will of the Sith and become a shadow among darkness itself?
As the creature drew nearer, Iresias regarded him with unguarded eyes. She was utterly broken in this state, and had no means to defend herself. A weak sigh escaped her lips, her defeat had been declared. There was nothing she could do as a crippled abomination, all that awaited her otherwise would only consist of suffering, and most assuredly death at the hands of the Coalition.
It all needed to end. She wanted to live.
"I....surrender...." A weak, raspy whisper pleaded.
Location: Open Space - Pantoran Inner System Reaches Objective: Defeat Worthy Prey and Destroy the Interlopers. Allies: The Golden Company, The Sith Empire. Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition. Naval Complement:Thyrsian Classis I and Aurek Security Echelon (Background NPC’s.)
Though the command deck was rife with shouting voices, issued orders, and the sounds of the bridge crew speaking the words of their compliance, Astarii found herself strangely silent as the Guerdon soared across the solar tide. Her regal brow was furrowed, and steepled fingers rested above her chin. Something was amiss. The conventional lines of outbound communications were severed, or were at the very least - monitored for encrypted data transfers. Yet, nothing was reported since those contingency’s were put in place. At first, the Hapan Officer was worried that she had missed something from the myriad data screeds that were digitally thrown her and her command staff’s way. However, it wasn’t long after that she posed an inquiry to the ship’s artificial intelligence that her mounting concern was allayed. She didn’t miss a thing, for there were simply no reports to make.
Whatever means the Coalition had at their disposal to summon allies from across the sector, and the galaxy thereafter defied the conventional realms of reason and possibilities. That, she supposed, was to be expected from this ragtag band of misfits. They did defeat the monolithic First Order during the height of their power after all, not only once but twice; and over the same world to boot. So, unconventional methods were their bread and butter. Yet, it was believed that those unorthodox techniques were accounted for during the preparatory phases of this intergalactic strike. With their early warning communication network sabotaged and briefly taken out of commission, they should have been unable to get the word out to nearby reinforcements - until it was too late. However, the opposite has proven itself true on multiple occasions. Not only had the Confederacy of thrice-damned Independent Systems arrived in system with an armada, but so too did a second, and much larger wave of Coalition-affiliated warships. That meant that had a contingency in play.
Unsure of what the Coalition had set as their fortuity conditions, Astarii pushed the enrapturing notion of infinite possibilities aside to refocus on the battle at hand. While it was a puzzle that her mind eagerly ached to solve, there was a far more appropriate task at hand that would need to be accomplished first.
The Unidentified Star Destroyer, that sought to challenge the Guerdon’s might was rapidly closing the distance between both ships, and entered the standard effective engagement sphere thereafter. While a majority of their prow mounted weapons were focused on leaving the KRV Utopia dead in the water, there were dozens - if not hundreds of batteries that were free and more than capable of swatting aside this newfound combatant. While that was an inherently arrogant notion, the Guerdon still outclassed both of it’s opponent’s by a significant margin, which didn’t include the various advancements in bleeding-edge technology that was integrated into her reforged framework. When those factors were brought into the equation? Well, it would’ve been a forgone conclusion as to what ship would be more than capable of walking away from this battle - and what ships would’ve been left behind as smouldering carcesses drifting through Pantora’s orbit.
However, such statistics and projections were only good in the theoretical realm. When it came to the empirical notions of reality, it was proven, time and time again, that anything could happen. Even the most advanced weapons or starships in the Galaxy had their faults, a factor that was preyed upon by magnanimous heroes who sallied forth to even the playing field; giving their elected faction the opportunity to claim victory against a demoralized foe. While that seemed like an impossibility, there was a sliver of truth to that idea would give pause even to the most rational of minds. Not Astarii Saren, though. That woman was stubborn in her belief that the Guerdon was a warship unlike any other, and held no equal on the battlefield. There wasn’t a band of heroes alive that could stand against this nigh-mythical beast, and see the rising of a new day.
The Hapan Navarch felt her lips, shrouded by steepled fingers, peel back into a predatory grin - revealing the twinned rows of pearlescent teeth beneath. It didn’t last long, but the sensation of puckering scar tissue, and the idea of her Battleship being compared to a slew of legendary monsters from the Age of Myth was amusing. What stole her moment of bliss was a sudden alarm blurting out, and the holographic representation of the shipboard AI calling out that they were being targeted with magnetic accelerators once again. Astarii blinked, knowing that their repulsorfield shell had taken care of the last volley. That alone should’ve dissuaded their enemy from utilizing their sole hypervelocity cannon. However, she began to believe they were tenacious, if not on the verge of being out-right suicidal, to prove themselves in battle against their chosen foe.
“Let the reactionary repulsors tank the ship-killing muntion,” Astarii began, before the Shipboard AI informed her that the magnetic signature was greatly increased in comparison to the last time they fired. That meant there’d be more than one salvo this time around. As if to prove her point true, the Construct followed up her report with additional information that made note of the de-powered weapon systems - or at the very least - the lack of plasmatic weaponry that was previously firing in their general vicinity.
“Very well,” the Hapan concluded. “Should that weapon fire a standard hypervelocity complement of three slugs in rapid succession, we’ll let the tertiary particle shields take the blow.”
“Is that wise, Navarch?”the Construct asked, with a holographically rendered quizzical brow.
“No,” Astarii responded with a sigh. “It’s not wise at all, but short of navigating through this mess and submitting the Guerdon to several painstaking weeks in a dry dock to upgrade her systems, there isn’t another choice.”
The Construct acquiesced with a nod.
Mere seconds after, the magnetic accelerators from that unidentified warship discharged their ship-killing ordnance, the trio of rounds struck true. The first magnetically accelerated slug was sent spiralling off into the depths of the void, likely to ruin someone else’s day - either within a matter of moments, or ten thousand years from now. Such was the irrefutable realm of physics, and why kinetic weapons had - until recent decades after civilization's resurgence from the dark ages - been nearly extinct in void-based warfare. With the reactionary repulsorfield shell expended, and needing to be recharged, the second and third shells tore through the primary and secondary shields - before striking the first layer of particle shielding. Their superluminal mass-driven slugs instantaneously compacted and vaporized micro-seconds after they smashed into the flickering barrier.
The projected deflector shield held under the successive assault, but the cracks within the barrier began to show - as the pulsating light that encapsulated the gilded warship dimmed ever-so-slightly around a concentrated point. It would likely withstand another barrage from the superluminal discharge, but who was to say that’d be accurate? Anything was possible in this ever-shifting battle amongst Pantora’s heavens. In the aftermath of that unleashment, that Unidentified Star Destroyer continued to sail towards their gilded vessel; closing the gap with every passing moment and descending through the solar planes as they did so. Their predicted path would lead their warship towards the ventral surface of the Guerdon, where more traditional Imperial Battlecruisers would have lesser weapon batteries than the armoured dorsal surfaces. However, such was not the case with this reforged Resurgent - Class vessel, and when that Unknown Combatant sailed beneath the equatorial trench, they’d realize their mistake and pay for such an error with their lives.
Whilst the Guerdon endured the superluminal punishment, it’s offensive batteries were far from silent. As the Unidentified Vessel sailed within the effective weapon’s sphere, the twin-barrelled mass-drivers were joined by a slew of plasmatic weaponry; including the solarized lances that would spear through conventional deflector shielding like they didn’t exist. In addition to the lethal mixture of energy and kinetic projectiles, the missiles that failed to strike their target the last time were joined by another salvo from the same ventral turrets, utilizing the same automatically loaded payload. While it was likely they too would be torn out of the bespeckled heavens, it was an expenditure they could afford; especially since the Sith Empire was footing their bill.
When that Pocket Destroyer descended towards the equatorial engagement sphere, Astarii felt her predatory grin return. With a simple alteration to their projected path, by way of the maneuverable thrust vents affixed to the Guerdon’s frame, their primary armament would be capable of unleashing a thunderous, solarized barrage - possibly leaving nothing but stellar ash in its instantaneous wake. As the maneuvering order was given and the Battlecruiser started to jink towards its starboard vector, the Hapan Navarch commanded that several of the sustained solar lances be drawn out of their standby hibernation, and brought up to optimal unleashment levels. It didn’t take long for such a process to be complete, and when it was finished - the Shipboard AI turned her holographic gaze towards her Commander.
“The solar lances have been roused from their hibernation and accrued the requisite lethality. They are ready to fire on your comma-”
Before the Construct was capable of finishing her report, Astarii Saren roused herself from the Command Throne and bellowed,“BROADSIDES!”
When the command was given, nearly half of the Port-side complement of sustained solarized lances opened fire. Ten beams of violent, ochre light rapidly built within their emplacement housings before being funnelled through ancient, and arcane particle accelerators. This process was comparable to fusion; which traditionally superheated plasma to match the flames that danced across the surface of stars. However, there were two critical differences that made these integrated weapons so deadly. The first, was that they were precise in the destruction they wrought - rather than the indiscriminate annihilation that standard turbolasers inherently suffered from. The second, and perhaps the most deadly factor of them all, was that these beams had a curious effect when it came to conventional deflector shields. They, like their smaller solarized cousins, seemed to ignore the standard barriers - no matter how many of them were laid atop one another.
So, when the massive battleship listed to their starboard-side and their intended target speared into the projected path, those ten beams were unleashed and began raking the heavens with their might. They, like the hypervelocity weapon that the Unidentified Star Destroyer housed, were ship-killers. That decad of solarized beams, were the very wrath of the Thyrsian people and the Twin Suns that orbited their homeworld incarnate.
Their collective fury would not be denied.
Whilst the Port-side batteries busied themselves with dealing death to the Unidentified Star Destroyer, the Starboard-side batteries remained silent - for the KRV Utopia corkscrewed beneath the starship’s horizontal plane before their sustained solar lances could awaken from their thrumming hibernation. Instead, the Guerdon endured yet another barrage of discharged plasmatic beams clawing against her Kyber-reinforced Xythan barriers; before reflecting them back from whence they came.
Khonsu smiled, at that moment. For as soon as their vessel was struck by the plasmatic ferocity of their own weaponry, their beam cannons slowly grew silent. Though the Captain had managed to get in the last word, before the transmission was terminated, those words echoed through the Thyrsians mind. The man was right, in a way. These were dangerous waters for any starship(s) that sought to enter the fray. However, the Mercenary King believed that such words were ill-suited to the battle between the Guerdon and the Utopia. What weapons they had became a double-edged sword as it tore apart their own shields, rather than decimating the intended target. What weapons weren’t plasmatic in origin seemed ineffective in tearing down the Battlecruiser’s projected particle shield; as if it was akin to stones being thrown at the ancient fortresses from the Pre-Hyperspace era.
Even the energetic torpedoes, discharged by the withdrawing Revenant did little to whittle the Guerdon’s shields, as their plasmatic casing was ripped from the deadly munitions before being shunted out into the depths of space. Their physical forms impacted, and subsequently detonated against the battlecruiser’s particle barrier - weakening its projected strength even further - before normalizing soon after.
He almost grew bored with the display of course corrections and alterations. Yet was drawn back to the hololithic display as he watched the formerly corkscrewing Star Dragon come about like an astral wolf; baring its fangs before leaping in for the kill. The man was curious. As their vessel was in a lighter classification, and was capable of utilizing its diminutive size to outpace even the increased maneuverability of the Guerdon, it somehow managed to get beneath them. Like the Unidentified Star Destroyer that bore down on them from above, it seemed that they too believed that this gilded warship was nothing more than it appeared to be.
They too, would pay for that miscalculation.
The ventral-mounted cannons picked up where their dorsal and trench-mounted compatriots left off; ensuring that there was little reprieve between their collective barrage. While such weapons, save for the solarized lances, would do little but chip away at their barrier’s projected strength, the sheer overwhelming firepower that was leveled against them would be enough to leave them dead in the water. It was only a matter of time.
Yet, none of that mattered in the end, as Khonsu was intrigued by their newest maneuver. They aligned their Battleship’s prow with the Guerdon’s partially exposed, and angular underbelly and drew a target-lock with their concussion missile tubes. It seemed that their vessel was full of many surprises. He watched intently, as the scrambled Interceptors and Starfighters rushed from their positions to interrupt their silent advance towards the Battlecruiser. If they failed, which was a possibility, the Battlecruiser itself had a comprehensive point defence network that housed over a thousand dedicated interception turrets that were spread out across the warship’s armoured surface.
The Guerdon was a physical manifestation of War, wrought from Imperial iron and perfected by Thyrsian hands. It was ready for whatever came it’s way.
His orders were simple. He and his squadron of Interceptors were dispatched to either confiscate or destroy the Errant Freighter that sought to make a suicidal run after one of the Thyrsian’s interdictors. The man didn’t care about the reasons why they sought to punch through the blockade with silent engines. He didn’t care if they had a deathwish, and simply wanted to end their lives in a foolish gamble. All that mattered was that he was being paid to partake in a simple assignment, while the heavens themselves were aflame with two Stellar Empire’s vying for spatial control. Some of his aerial kindred would kill for such an assignment, as their chances at survival would skyrocket - and so would their chances of using their newly acquired wealth.
So, as his squadron and their Gunboat escort closed the astronomical distance between their intended target, Yun began rifling through the requisite in-flight checks; making sure his Interceptor’s systems were nominal. With everything green across the board, the Atrisian Sun Guard poured more of his starfighter’s power into the engines - seeking to streak across the bespeckled canvas of night. With all five of his engines burning hot, the entire taskforce would swiftly reach the momentum driven freighter. However, as fate would have it, such an eventuality wouldn’t come to pass. His integrated astromech droid uploaded a screed of data to the man’s helmet visor that detailed the sudden re-ignition of that errant freighter’s engines and drastic course correction.
“Where are you running too?” the Atrisian Sun Guard whispered, as his eyes watched the holographically rendered vessel soar through the solarized tides. His question was answered soon after, as the starfighter’s systems plotted a projected course that eventually led back towards the planet. He rolled his eyes, then.
With that information in hand, Yun keyed the starfighter’s integrated communicator; which then transmitted his voice to the rest of the assembled taskforce on an encrypted channel.
“Let them run back to that moon. They’re either doomed to die in Orbit, or on the surface. We’ve got better things to do here, rather than chase after errant Freighters.”
What the Sun Guard Pilot didn’t know, was how true his words proved to be. Whilst he and his ad-hoc taskforce were sent to deal with the solitary transport, the Coalition’s second wave of reinforcements arrived. They were drawn in like moths to a burning brazier; intent to defend the newest world to join their Alliance.
“Let’s get back to the Her-”
Before he was capable of finishing his order, the Thyrsian BattleNet exploded with data that came in from a dozen different sources; each detailing their newfound contact with the Coalition forces. While much of the battle was contained to the Inner Spheres that surrounded Orto Plutonia and its solitary moon, the Golden Company expected to drift silently out in the void whilst their Sith-Imperial paymasters took all the glory. Within the span of several heartbeats, it seemed that notion was squashed and soon replaced by the tender kiss of adrenaline. Their chance to prove themselves as a fearsome fighting force had come, at last.
But, there would be those amongst their mighty warhost that would never have the chance to live out their days - basking in the riches earned in the heavens above Pantora. The Command Staff and Crew of the Lord of Consecrated Iron found themselves stuck between a rock and a hard place. For their Gravity Wells rendered the Interdictor immobile, and unable to escape the coming of… whatever in the seven hells the Coalition brought into battle. It sliced through the shielded cruiser like a lightsabre through durasteel, doubtlessly triggering it’s particle shields to flare up as the starship’s scattered remnants danced across that ramship’s massive frame. The various deadfall torpedoes and missiles that surrounded the vessel would’ve likely done nothing to halt that warships advance.
With the Lord of Consecrated Iron falling silent, and several escorts withdrawing from their present vectors - seeking to avoid sharing their Interdictor’s fate - the Thyrsian portion of the Gravitational blockade crumbled. There were other starships across the Sith-Imperial lines that would take their place, but the possibility of escape became a reality; even if it was miniscule. It was said that impossibilities were built on Hope - and with this hole made - it was likely that such an inspiring feeling soared through the ranks of the Coalition, and their allies.
Yun drank in those details and felt a portion of his heart sink. He had friends on the Consecrated Iron. There was nothing left of that warship, save the memories of those who were sent into death’s cold embrace. His shock, slowly soured and gave rise to anger - which began boiling his blood and staining the corners of his sight. He’d make them pay.
The Guerdon suffers significant damage to it's Tertiary Particle Shielding, and is severely weakened on the Port-side from sustained Hypervelocity barrage.
The Guerdon responds to the projected violence cast it's way with a myriad array of weapon systems situated across the Port, Bow, and Starboard sides - along with the Dorsal and Ventral surfaces.
Having utilized it's Lateral Thrust Vents to "tilt" the Battlecruiser, the Guerdon opens fire with Ten Eos Sustained Solar Lances - seeking to raking the Iron Blade with ship-killing weaponry.
Interceptors and Fighters race to Intercept the Concussion missiles unleashed by the Utopia - will respond in the next post to resolve damage; ICly accounting for speed of the missiles and fighters too.
The Taskforce sent after the Jaster's Sparrow decides to return to the Blockade, leaving them free to return to the Moon.
The Thyrsian Interdiction net crumbles, as the Lord of Consecrated Iron is bisected, and violently explodes with all hands lost.
The Sub-Spear that contained the Lord of Consecrated Iron is in disarray, as they nearby vessels seek to escape the Ramship, as well as engage the newly arrived Coalition Reinforcements.
Cotan watched as the Emperor's flame came in, preparing for his barrier to catch it and repel it; instead, however, Dax redirected the fires, throwing them back at [member="Darth Carnifex"]. Before he had time to congratulate the High Marshall, however, he found himself beginning to float. "Wait a minute, Coren, I think he's trying a different—" He stopped as Dax began to speak again.
Turned out it wasn't the Sith Emperor lifting him up like that. "Dax, wait, I don't think this is a good ide—aaaaaaaaaaah!" He hadn't even had time to finish the statement before he was sailing through the air, straight for where his opponent had dismounted. As Dax's return fire of flame dissipated and the Emperor was brought into full view, Cotan brought his blade up, ready for an attack, while shielding himself in the Force; both for when he landed, and also to ensure that he couldn't easily be grabbed or tossed around by the Emperor's defense.
Then he came over Carnifex's head, lashing out with a quick slash while going by. Aimed at one of the small gaps in the upper armour that facilitated movement of the head and neck, it would prove debilitating if it was able to connect; the Sith Emperor would find himself severly wounded and struggling to make use of an entire side of his body. Given the small target and the Emperor's prowess, however, Cotan expected it would likely serve as nothing more than a testing blow to begin their duel.
There was a moment of silence as Amea continued to glance up the elevator shaft. From up above she could see the elevator carriages where they remained unmoving and still. For a brief second it reminded her of one of the few times she had been in elevator shafts like this, though from what she could see there were no other wardens around. Well, there wasn’t anyone but herself around either, but that just made sense. Without hesitaiton she threw herself onto a durasteel bar that held the shaft in place. Climbing up she glanced up once more to find another bar to throw herself at and repeated the same procedure, using the force to propel herself until finally she reached one of the carriages. Climbing on top she glanced down. By her calculations she had to be about six levels up at that point. From the other side of the elevator carriage doors she could hear the vague mumbles of men patroling the floor.
At least until something far louder. Thunder, far stronger than anything she would have known had she been any other girl. But she did know this, she had felt this feeling in the force from many years ago when she was far younger. Back before everything that was unfolding, back when she was still wandering without purpose. Atrisia, and the terror attack unleashed upon it by the Sith. A force storm, a later-apparent mass suicide. Dark as it was she hoped for the latter, but pessimism told her it was the former.
Wasting no time she pushed up on her feet. Took a jump towards another bar. Yet the ground started to shake. A loud roar that unlike the storm was something she had never heard before. The very top of the shaft was torn open by something that seemed to fly past in a hurry, spitting fire as it went. A dragon.
A loud chain of expletives parted Amea’s lips as debris began to pour down the cramped shaft. Pushing against the wall she found herself only barely missed by the rubble and stone that made the ground shake once more as it impacted against the top of the elevator carriage. Knocked from its tracks the carriage soon came with the debris, and as it plummeted Amea would make a jump for the door. She had chosen the elevator shaft not for its ease of traversal but for the ability it granted her to move unseen. With time becoming an ever pressing matter she elected to stop.
Force to her step she pushed up the hallway towards the stairs. Soldiers were heard below, making a hurried exit from the structure. But not her, no, Amea had to continue up like the moron she was. Another line of expletives parted her lips in a far longer chain of words she wouldn’t ever want her mother to hear. She sped up her step, reached the thirteenth floor with her heart up her throat and ever so slightly out of breath. With a worn jog she approached the door she had been told to have been Cinder’s safehouse.
Deep breath.
Overriding the pad she gained access to the room and found herself faced with the room she would have hoped for in a state of ruin she hoped it wouldn’t be. Parts of the walls were gone, the outer wall being gone in its entirety, offering a clear sight of the horrors of war. Dragons in the air, a force storm that began to pick up in pace, and that was what she could see right before her. From here the crater where Cinder had been turned into, well cinder, could be seen. It’s glassy surface was a horror to behold, but as much as Amea wanted to stand and stare she had a mission to do.
In one of the rooms beeped the insolent beep of a console. She rushed on over to break into it.
Location: Somewhere on the outskirts of the Pantoran Capital City
The fire was of the Dark Side.
He was of the Dark Side.
Power and substance given ethereal life, to burn and consume without remorse. Controlling such volatile energies came as naturally to him as breathing, and he redirected the energies back around his form and into the surrounding landscape. What little tinder remained was set alight, and even stone itself began to burn and vitify into a jagged floor. This was all done with one outstretched hand, the other reached down to his side to wrap its fingers around the hilt of the Emperor's lightsaber. An ungainly creation, the weapon's hilt measured somewhere around ninety-one centimeters in length; with the weapon's plasma beam twice as long as that.
It was a weapon designed to accentuate the Emperor's gargantuan form and reach, and with the compression of his thumb against the actuator switch the crackling scarlet blade hummed into being. The clouds of dust and superheated particles split as one of the Jedi, the one he had faced on Coruscant, came flying at him like a swarm of mynocks out of an exogorth's gullet. Battle precognition and supernatural reflexes allowed the Emperor to sidestep the comparatively leisurely slash from the Jedi's weapon as he sailed overhead and behind the Emperor.
No words.
Only action.
The Emperor surged forward with all the inevitability of a tectonic plate, the vitrified ground buckling beneath every footfall. One-handed he slashed downward with his weapon, an easily escapable strike that would undoubtedly cut through empty air once it finally reached its target, but that was part of the ploy. Simultaneously, the Emperor's leg lashed out at wherever the Jedi landed next, intent on crumbling him in with a single blow and sending him sprawling amongst the debris and ruin of Pantora.
Meanwhile; the beast Adramalech continued to soar through the air around its master's chosen field of battle, the light drizzle hissing and evaporating against his heated scales. There were few in the region who could actively contend with the beast's lumbering bulk as it flew about, which is what made the Master Starchaser's sudden appearance in the air all the more startling. Not that Adramelech could experience or understand startlement, instead the beast let loose a brief roar of challenge and belched another thick gaseous stream of noxious fumes in the Jedi Master's direction.
Cotan was entirely unsurprised to see Darth Carnifex evade the blow, his lightsaber's blade cutting through empty air centimeters away from the Emperor's form as he sailed on by. The Emperor moved quickly, far faster than his gargantuan size would belie; to the inexperienced opponent, this difference in expectations would prove to be their death sentence. One movement that was a microsecond too slow would lead to them being crushed into the dirt, never to rise again.
Of course, Cotan wasn't inexperienced, either in general fighting nor in combatting the Sith Emperor himself. As he landed, knowing that Carnifex's blade was aimed at him, he used the continued momentum of his flight to his advantage, evading the strike with a backflip; as he landed again, this time he made a short hop to the Emperor's outside line, narrowly evading the kick. However, there was just enough space left for him to make an attack of his own.
His blade whipped upwards in a short, but vicious slash, aimed to cut into Carnifex's knee from the underside. Regardless of the effect of that slash, however, Cotan wouldn't allow himself to be trapped into the same constant-backpedalling he'd been forced into on Coruscant. He stepped further in towards Carnifex, transitioning to a horizontal slash aimed to go through the man's midsection, his own movement carrying him past the Emperor while turning on the ball of his foot, ready to raise his blade to any necessary guard position.
From hyperspace, Second Fleet entered the system slightly further from the battle than they had calculated for, but nothing too serious. Once the entirety of the fleet exited hyperspace, Lord Admiral Zahori Denko activated the fleet's encrypted comms channel, aiming to speak to all of 2nd Fleet at once. "To all 2nd Fleet personnel. We have been summoned to this far off system in the name of Imperial domination. We have come to be known for our flawless execution throughout many victories and impeccable effectiveness against our enemies even with the odds stacked against us. Victory is as assured for all our past battles as it is today. You all know your roles. Get to your stations. Your Lord Admiral shall guide you to victory, once more."
All of 2nd Fleet began to move forward to engage in the battle ahead. Zahori stepped up to the battle holomap to see what laid before her. Through the display, Zahori could tell what ship fought for whom, where they were located on the field, and who they were engaged with. All this, plus other information such as offensive and defensive capabilities, gave Zahori everything she needed in order to properly execute her battle plan. "Seventh Fleet is here as well. We shall reinforce their offense while also providing aid in defending them against counterattacks. All ships, move alongside Seventh Fleet but remain 45 degrees below their starboard side. We don't want the enemy getting any ideas of causing friendly fire. Once we are on an approach vector, fire when ready upon Seventh Fleet's targets." Zahori commanded.
So many foes laid ahead before Second Fleet, but all they would have to do is punch a serious hole into the front and the rest would fall apart. As Seventh Fleet fired upon the enemy with long range weaponry, Second Fleet prepared it's weapon systems. Targetting computers lit up with activity as the main guns across Second fleet prepared to unleash their ammunition upon the Confederate targets. It's been some time since Zahori had seen Confederate ships. Last time had to have been when she was an officer in their Navy. That was some time ago. Before her cousin went missing. It's been so long that she almost forgot about him. Yet another weak-minded peon lost in the galaxy's troubles. "Keep a steady pace with Seventh Fleet. Ensure our targeting parameters are not altered. We must stay this course." Zahori commanded. As Second Fleet moved forward, the Athena-classes moved to the front of the fleet and deployed shields in order to defend the fleet as they moved forward.
Fleet Composition
Second Fleet
Task Force 21 - 12,005m 1x Chimaera II[2000m] - Targeting CNS Victator. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
3x Remulus-class Sith Destroyer [3375m] - Targeting CNS Arkanis. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
5x Dagger V-class Frigates [1290m] - Targeting CNS Valiance. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
6x Audax-class Cruisers [5340m] - Defending TF-21. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
[*]Task Force 22 - 8,000m
1x Harbinger-class Carrier Battlecruiser [3500m] - Deploying fighters. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
2x Vectivus-class Carrier Cruisers [1500m] - Deploying fighters. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
2x Eradicator-class Heavy Cruisers [1200m] - Targeting CNS Valor. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
6x Vigil II-class Corvettes [1800m] - Defending TF-22. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
[*]Task Force 23 - 13,950m
5x Vader-class Star Destroyers [8000m] - Targeting CNS Cherube. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
5x Harrower-class Cruisers [4000m] - Targeting CNS Rocke. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
6x Shard-class Assault Frigate [1950m] - Targeting CNS Umber. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
[*]Task Force 24 - 5,600m
2x Xo'Xaan II-class Star Destroyers [2000m] - Targeting CNS Forsworn. Prepping weapons and moving forward at a steady pace.
Location: City Outskirts Allies: The Empire and the Sith | [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Tsisaar Taral"] [member="Kana Mikasa "][member="Khan Korynth"] [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Sar-Ka-Roi"] [member="Darth Ophidia"] Enemies: Jedi and their ilk | [member="Amea Virou"] [member="Iresias Sirax"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Dax Fyre"] [member="Veiere Arenais"] [member="Kimiko Taiyo"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Yula Perl"] [member="Griet van Vliet"] [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] Directly Engaged: [member="Griet van Vliet"]
Distant.
Indeed her focus had been turned away from herself, but it was not to the sky that her vision pierced - no, she needn't worry that the gathering storm would come to fruition, there were few that could match her in that arena. In the distance, across the city - further even beyond where Kaine rode his wyrm - was the man her attention had turned to. She had expected to be cast out by the Jedi when they learned of her.. connection.. with their late grand master, even expected, on some level, to be abandoned by even her when the time came; her expectation for betrayal had even been met by the so-called Dark Lord of the Sith himself when he watched her die as she stood before him, warning him of a threat to his own paltry empire. But in all of this treachery, all of this two-faced cowardice, there was a single person that had sailed the stars and brought down heaven and ripped up the foundations of earth to bring her back from a place she hadn't quite thought she would have ever returned from.
And that one person, that one man, her single tether to the state of sanity she now clung to -
Well, he was dead.
Her eyes searched, the gaze she held piercing time and space, watching his soul ripped from his body like a mannequin thrown to the ground - she saw the light rip through the clouds, tear out towards him with a prejudice she never could have fathomed possible by any other than herself. She had learned the ways of the Aing-Tii, learned to step into the flow of time and walk through its reflections to seek a future she could salvage - a future where she could prevent him his pain that would come with a banishment to Chaos. It was precisely because she found none that her gaze faltered, that her head tilted forward, tilted down, as she struggled to think of what she could have done to have prevented it - how this was a failure on her behalf, on someone's behalf, and that it shouldn't have been this way - that she shouldn't be here, and he not. Her mind immediately turned to Kaine, how he had watched her torn and devoured, limb from limb, with little more than a look of amusement, and how he was still merely occupied with some vermin - then her thoughts flung to herself, that if she had simply came with him, with Braxus, then she could have prevented this. But ultimately the blame fell on the people of Pantora, and on their Jedi defenders. It was for them that they had came. The focus she'd held, a tunnel-vision of adrenaline built up from concentration alone, was burned away with rage. All around her she could feel them, their little sparks of light beneath her cloud of darkness, meandering about like rats nipping at her toes - vermin she ought to kill, to exterminate.
A shift in the flow of the force, a gaze of concentration, of aggressive focus, was held on her form, and she met that gaze with the turn of her head, violet eyes wide with madness, and an aggression of her own. A sphere of energy erupted around her body as the electromagnetic round tore through the air at a speed reaching terminal velocity, a sphere which took the brunt of the explosive force of the plasma round before dissipating at the moment of contact. Forearms raised, the Firrerreo took the rest of the concussive force with her own body, albeit encased in an armor comprised of orbalisks clinging to her skin, and was launched nearly a meter from the ground and several more further from the place she'd stood just moments before, into a wall, opposite of the source of the attempt on her life. A chunk of her left ear was missing, and gashes were torn on her upper lip, the bridge of her nose, and left brow, as the remnants of plasma rained across the exposed portions of her body. "I hope you can run better than you fight, little mouse." She said as she pushed herself forward, ignoring the pain of her wounds as the bleeding slowed to a stop through the intervention of her Firrerreon genetics, the saber at her hip hissing to life as it flew into the open palm of her left hand. The clouds that loomed overhead were dark enough now, swollen with rain despite the drizzle that had started just minutes ago, and lightning flashed across the sky. As if an extension of her own will, an unearthly rage took the skies and the scent of burning ozone filled the air - electrons lining up in perfect synchronization from the ground to the clouds far above.
"Because there is no force in this galaxy that will save you now."
No sooner had the words left her lips than a bolt of lightning struck down midway between Braith and the Jedi, tearing apart the ground and clouding the street from view - a distraction she took full advantage of as she darted forwards, her legs strengthened through the force. It was oddly satisfying to finally act on her anger, to finally allow that pent up rage to spill out and wash over her. She'd allowed Carnifex the peace of mind that she wouldn't carry out a vendetta on him for his part in her previous death, but this little rodent was little more than a punching bag to take all of her frustrations on. As her body flung through the dirt and dust that the lightning strike had raised from the ground, a stream of wind carried her body several meters further into the air with increasing speed before a change in direction in airflow pushed her down towards the ground with surprisingly large amount of force, knees tucked to her chest as she fell so that her fall was cushioned by a roll that led into a rather elegant rise to her feet, the other end of her lightsaber igniting as the gap was closed - an ignition that was met with a concussive explosion that burst out from her center of being as an amplified push of telekinetic force in every direction.
This was definitely different, and Starchaser was an explorer and combat fighter pilot. But being flung from the ground at a dragon? Yeah, that was definitely going to top his weird-poodoo-o-meter. It was what happened when one started to mingle with the dark side. He’d been there before, but never when he was a stalwart of the light side. This fight though, and most fights with the Sith, they definitely needed some extra firepower. And the Coalition’s dark siders were diet at best. Of course, these thoughts were not what was going through his mind. The teleporter didn’t need the help to get to the dragon, one of his major skills was fold space after all.
But going through his mind? Getting his lightsaber up, and calling on the Force. He need it to protect him, but as he got closer to the dragon, he could feel the light burning brighter, it was easier to grab onto now. It was his.
Activating his lightsaber, the one known as Corellian Star, the blue blade ignited as he got closer, but he knew the dragon was not going to be the target. Bending his trajectory in the Force, the Jedi could feel the Force lighting up around him. Lightsaber in his cybernetic hand, he focused the Force down and as he hit the ground, a blast of light, not as focused as some of his Light was to knock back the dark siders, but he was getting a bonus from the pendant he wore.
Hopeful, it would do enough to give cause for concern, between that and Coren Starchaser stepping up. After the blast of energy, he got to his feet, looking around, seeing Cotan, and the Emperor.
Kaine Australis had managed to evade the blow, moving to counter with a rising strike for Veiere's arm and forcing him to throw his weight to his right, pivoting on his forward foot and following through with a full rotation of his body in order to keep his arm clear of the blow. His two Lightsabers hummed with intimidating charge as the blades whirled around as he did, Veiere not looking to follow through with another attack as of yet but pacing himself and stepping out to the side and putting distance between them both so that he could gauge his opponent and plan accordingly. Without the aid of the Force, his instincts and precognitive senses weren't present to be able to fight two steps ahead of his opponent whilst performing an evasive maneuver as he had, with his back having been temporarily to the opposition. Kaine had been wise to bring Force Nullifying equipment with him, though the Mandalorian's were well known for their thrill for a challenge, especially when combating force users like the Jedi.
Having cut his weapon in two and rendering one of his blades inoperable, Veiere was relieved in his brief success in evening the playing field between them. It was now that the Jedi Master would disengage his secondary lightsaber, returning the hilt to his belt in the moment of pause between the two combatants, his left hand moving to join with his right as he raised his primary blade to point skyward, soon adopting the form of Djem So, the aggressive and powerful form that was considered to be an adequate counter-offensive against Soresu Users. After-all, having mastered Soresu, a wise practitioner needed to study and learn the opposing forms they should expect to meet in the field, and so Veiere had done so in his years of practice and study under the Jedi Order.
The green light of his lightsaber showered his right side as Veiere stood poised in the moment. Using the single weapon meant being able to utilize heavier handed strikes, while also being free to revert to quicker single-handed blows should he be forced to do so. Being of the Mandalorian's, Veiere expected that Kaine would likely make use of his gauntlets should he be within striking distance of a good hard flying fist. The Mandalorian's armor and accessories remained on Veiere's mind, for he knew they were rarely without an ace up their sleeve, so to speak. Despite his challenge, Veiere's intent remained on disarming his opponent rather than ending his life. Veiere didn't give the challenge any true accord outside of drawing Kaine into a physical fight without the use of his Blasters, an honorable death was a foolish ideology in the mind of the Jedi Master, as there was nothing to be proud about in the demise of yourself or another, to a Jedi.
Without any sign or warning however, Veiere pushed off from the ground once more, his blade being drawn back over his right shoulder, the hilt held tightly in both hands and soon being brought cleaving around in a horizontal swing that would meet Kaine's shoulders if he weren't quick enough to defend himself. The Jedi Master wanting to re-engage the Mandalorian in close quarters, searching for a time where he would be able to target the man's remaining blade and remove it from his person, knowing Kaine well enough to expect a strong defense and counter-offensive to such an obvious initial attack.
The Wall of Light brought him as close to the elemental chaos as he ever came before, the edge of oblivion so painfully close for the Lord of Lies. He could feel the force’s anger, it’s rage at his wanton defiance of natural law. The very act of his dwelling spirit spat in its face but the torn rifts? The Great Beyond was a prison for outer deities and horrors best left unspoken. But alongside Taeli Raaf they shattered that boundary. He tore down the walls and rang their prison like a church bell calling the horrors to his side. He bent them to his dominion, conquering the void itself. The Black King of the Void, a being that started a path into becoming something greater. Not even the aura of light blanketing the once grand command post could stop him, his darkness seeped out like a wound, a sickening blight, a maelstrom in its own right on the inside while the darkness encroached on the outside.
Rage.
There was rage at being pulled so close by such an insignificant Jedi Master, by such a mongrel of the Council of Whills. It stung to be brought low even with his own victory in acquiring the information on Zark’s Holocron and its true location. The rage built like bile in the throat, like a pain in ones gut. It permeated through every fiber of his being. The rage was addictive for the Elder Things that stood beside him. They screeched in a profane tongue that shattered minds. The hulking beasts descended upon the remaining druids of the light and unleashed death, they brought down a higher form of war. Screams rang out like a symphony orchestra cutting through the force as the spirits offense was shattered so thoroughly, they broke into a retreat before the greater entities. They scratched, clawed, and crawled to run but their fates were long sealed. It wasn’t enough to take their minds, their forms were torn into ribbons, annihilation so thorough absolutely nothing remained to be absorbed into the elemental chaos.
Nothing remained.
None remained to stand beside the Jedi Master who valiantly with the help of millions of Talz broke free from the grip of the Great Destroyer, the light wrestling with the dark. All around him the four Elder Things stood their formidable powers formed a spiritual link with the Lord of Lies. Wounds healed, stores of energy replenished, power magnified beyond belief. A thin shield formed around his being as the powerful energy lance of heavenly light struck, unleashing sparks of white through the air briefly obscuring his form, the Shadow Hand didn’t so much as block his blow. When the light faded it revealed that the shield held firm. Four tendrils from each elder creature slammed into the Jedi Master with a hurricane fury each restraining a limb to hold him down, while the giant floated down to the ground his spiritual footfalls caved the earth in as he walked. “Your convictions are admirable, but you have no idea how wrong you are.” He said a pair of molten orbs with black sclera locked onto him.
Already across the galaxy he could feel his servants descending the shadow network of spies, informants, and more set their eyes upon the world that dominated his concerns: Ruusan. The Lord of Lies reach was far and wide across the galaxy, before long his agents would be on the surface if they weren’t already. Closer however his mind was drawn to the fight of Emperor Carnifex as he stood alongside Joycelyn Zambrano against the Jedi in a ferocious brawl. Even further he could see his precious, his beloved Braith Achlys as she saw his fall, the sorrow falling from her form. Braith was his everything, his earthly tether. To see her suffer it was as if he suffered, it was a knife that cuts deep. “Tell them. Tell them all I am coming.” Darth Prazutis said as a darkness coalesced in the form of a deep black smoke, a void blight formed into his hand. He lashed out and drowned the spirits arm in the void blighted darkness flooding his essence with such a vile energy. No amount of spiritual healing could ever undo the damage he had done. It would be a level of pain that was simply irreversible as the darkness spread from the Jedi’s palm all the way up his arm. But just before it could move any further the Sith Lord stopped it by bringing Daesumnor down to sever the spirits arm. “To kill you now would be a far more merciful fate than the one I have planned for you. Allow this to be a permanent reminder of me. I’ll see you in hell master jedi, when I conquer it.” He said banishing him from Pantora. Alas one thing the Jedi Master managed to accomplish the rifts were closed, and he would endeavor to waste no more energy at tearing more open. It was a monumental task to rend the veil and not one he did lightly, he could risk no such expenditure. Pantora was safe from the horrors of the Dreaming Dark and his ravenous armies of the void.
A telepathic message to his own chief lieutenant sent AQUILA aboard the Goliath II to task firing a pod out from its underbelly. The Sith Lord’s host body was killed by the wall of light, it’s possessions fading into a black smoke and the body dissolved into ash on the wind. But now? A rocket arched through the skies cutting through the vicious dogfight as more and more parts of it broke off falling into pieces as it moved across the capital cities skyline. Deep inside a black smoke began to form around the bare naked vessel of Braxus Zambrano, already ritualistically prepared. A bodyglove formed and above that his battle armor, Daesumnor was willed to its side. The pod soared towards the capital city itself. As for his spirit? A voice reached out like a pair of warm hands gently pressing down upon the shoulders of Braith Achlys, it was not to distract her focus or her rage but to fuel it, to quell concerns within “ I still remain. No force in this galaxy could tear me away from you. I come for you now.” He said telepathically.
The rocket pod crashed into the ground a relative distance away from his beloved its four sides separating to reveal his new clone body down on one knee, its fist defiantly placed against the earth. The spirit manifested behind it and walked right into the body assuming direct control over the dormant clone. He coughed, he retched as he fell down onto all fours, his fine tuned senses activating as he was brought back into the material world. The very impact of his immense strength caved a small fist sized crater into the earth as he stood. To combat Zark took a tremendous amount out of him the ejecting from his vessel took its toll, left its spiritual rends in his own form. He moved forward the very ground buckled beneath each footfall as he surged in her direction.
Capital City, Skybound
Galvanoth the Genocide…
Confusion.
It wracked the minds of the malevolent intelligence that was the Genocide as such a small figure attempted to challenge it. There were very few who could truly challenge Galvanoth in the skies, and fewer who could contend with its dominance. But it quickly became evident this figure was something it hadn’t considered when the man dangled from its maw by a loose thread. The beast dropped from its height as it’s lead head unleashed a blast of lightning, a gout of powerful graviton energy tore out bathing the city below in its golden light. The other two heads snapped at the man, it’s focus drawn as it continued downward. The beast saw too late the tall skyscraper that managed to stand in defiance of the invasion surrounding it. The Genocide’s one hundred forty one thousand ton frame passed through it like it was made of tissue paper, obliterating the towering structure as the beast collided beneath with a massive seismic boom caving in the earth beneath it, while the towers scattered debris fell over him. In a shower the beast flexed its wings and threw off the debris that fell atop it, the middle head nipped at the left one as it hung still shaking off the effects of the damaging fall. The beast bathed its surroundings in lightning, before the beast took flight once again, albeit a tad lethargic from its fall.
Location: Capital City Dockyard
Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Kana Mikasa "][member="Khan Korynth"]
The Jedi Master hoped his attack would give Scherezade the perfect opportunity to continue with a counter attack. Kahne was however unable to see this through as Khan charged into the Jedi Master.
Kahne utilizing what little time he had in between as he called upon the force to create a barrier between him and the Sith. His hand that was placed on his lightsaber, leaving the blade there clipped to his belt as he raised his hand within enough time. The barrier taking the majority of the blow, however the Jedi Master was forced backwards several paces as he let out a small sigh and cleared his throat.
Kahne couldn't help but chuckle slightly and cocked his head to the side, the Jedi's arrogant side showing slightly.
"And If do?" The Jedi responded easily enough, as the blade left his side and was summoned to his hand by way of the force. The all too familiar snap-hiss as the blue blade came to life.
The Sith Empire had caught them unprepared, carefully eliminating the Coalition early warning network on the edge of Wild Space.
But the ShadowNet was more than a series of satellite relays. Ghost sites in uninhabited star systems, civilian contacts throughout the sector, mechu deru techsages spread the word like a virus. By the time the Sith landed on Pantora, the Underground knew about it. Marshal Tyrosus knew about it. They could barely be called a united front in the best of times, but one thing the rim shared was little patience for being pushed around. An All Flags Crisis had been declared, Rex simply had to lead the way and others would follow.
Two additional fleets dropped from hyperspace, brute forcing the canny High Marshal Brayde and his Confederates back onto the defensive. Rex scowled, knowing that it was only a matter of time before those same guns turned on his hopelessly outnumbered forces. If the Emperor wanted to send them a message, they would send one in return. They would not relent until Pantora proved so bloody an affair that the Imperials could hardly call it a victory at all.
The Outer Rim was untamed space.
"What do you mean Skirata is unavailable?" he growled at the Ketyadyr comm officer, "Forget it. Just tell him there's a cargo hold full of talons in it for him if he does as much damage as he can on the way out."
Rex terminated the transmission with the Migrant Fleet capital ship.
His enemy had the edge in technology, in training, in coordination. But there was no denying the militia volunteer's fighting spirit. Tyrosus saw attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Pantora, a Tof mercenary clipper with its sails ablaze still lobbing gouts of fotia's fire at destroyers three times its size. The Wolf's Head had accomplished its objective, rending the Lord of Consecrated Iron into oblivion, but such a massive collision had all but pulverized its forward bulkheads and knocked out half its ion drives. It was now dead in space at the edge of the system and serving as a defensive emplacement and starfighter refueling platform.
The Verdict's shields flared angrily at the intermittent turbolaser fire directed their way, but Uukaablian deflector technology was keeping the modified Darr Itah alive and swinging. Its Great River super heavy tractor emplacements flung smaller attack ships foolish enough to stray close, temporary loss of maneuvering control leaving them easy targets for concentrated turbolaser salvos.
"Never mind the primary deflectors," Atlas shouted to be heard over the madness, "Concentrate turbolaser and point defense fire parallel to the warheads' trajectory! How's that last probe coming?"
The Utopia's secondary shielding was much better equipped to deal with heavy firepower, but Captain Drake knew it wouldn't matter. They were going down, it was only a matter of time. He knew what mattered most now was what they chose to do with that time. Six missiles would not be enough to penetrate a battlecruiser's point defense network, not with their starfighters outnumbered as they were by the Thyrsian host. Over a third of Defender Squadron was already down, and the Uukaablians in their lightly shielded interceptors had taken significant losses.
This close to the Sith armada's gravity wells, disabling the hyperwave probe's safety protocols were necessary, but this close to the Guerdon the jury rigged ion bomb would barely have time to deviate before it reached its target. It was a desperate plan, but then Atlas had run out of sensible options the moment the Sith Empire arrived. He watched the probe finally launch and disappear into hyperspace, local gravity distortion rendering its trail indecipherable.
"Shields are out!"
Drake never saw the results of his gambit. He was thrown violently from his command throne when the first concentrated impacts struck his destroyer's exposed hull plating. Bridge stations exploded in a hail of sparks, hull breaches across multiple decks vented crewmen into the uncaring void before emergency bulkheads finally sealed, only to cripple under another wave of relentless firepower.
He crawled across ruined technology and broken bodies back to his command throne.
"All hands, this is the captain," Atlas didn't need to read a status report to know it was past time, "Abandon ship."
One of Fourteen felt the song of the hatch resonate in its frontal lobes, and it was good.
Scything through cosmic dust and freezing engine trails, the Kari squadron leader was hooked into the K-90s systems so that it could hear the interceptor's song too. That was good. It was one of many, and did not understand Yun's rage or Loreena's excitement and fear. If giving a single life or even the life of its entire squadron would keep its hatch's song alive then it would gladly do so. Many humanoids considered their lives a precious thing, but One of Fourteen did not understand. On Karideph, life was all too common.
<Jaster's Sparrow, we have heard your distress song.> the Kari's chittering language was translated by his starfighter's systems, superimposed over one another in an unsettling manner, <We will escort you from harm.>
It did not understand why a single freighter merited the trouble, but One of Fourteen had felt the song of the hatch and it would not disrupt the melody.
Summary
Task Force Verdict takes significant losses upon clashing with the Sith armada, Coalition forces refuse to rout.
The Wolf's Head is adrift, serving as a refueling platform for strike craft and static emplacement around which the rest of its task forces continues harrying the Thyrsian rearguard.
Utopia fires another rigged hyperwave probe at the Guerdon, hoping to knock out the battlecruiser's point defense net ahead of its missile barrage.
Utopia's shields collapse and takes severe structural damage, is now dead in space. Order to abandon ship has been given to surviving crew.
Kari attack clutch (squadron) of K-90 interceptors approaches the Jaster Sparrow with orders to escort the freighter out of harm's way.
Computers were easy constructs. At their base they were little less than magnetic impulses that traversed a great plastic card that signaled from one piece to another with instructions on how to compute one problem or the other. Amea, the real Amea, had trained for the majority of her life not how to decode them but become them. The transfer of data from one piece to another while difficult to intercept was not impossible. As the console’s vents flared up from the dust build up of the ruined building she put herself to work. It was hard to mistake this machine for anything other than a Hex agent’s. State-of-the-art, and more to the point a hard nut to crack by any conventional means.
A frustrated groan parted Amea’s lips as she glanced at the screen before her. Fingerprint, eye scanner and a password. Whatever Cinder had stored on this device seemed to warrant more than your average measure of security. She began the process by tricking the fingerprint reader into believing something came into touch with it for the sake of tracking the impulse that notified the computer that someone tried to access it. Once the component was reached she tracked the incoming connections to build a good image for herself over what it was that they did. Sure enough they all lead to one security measure after the other. It wasn’t worth it to trick each device when she could simply trick the one they all responded to, and for that simple reason Amea did just that. As the impulses of the devices, reading Amea’s fingerprint and eye as well as a random blurb on the keyboard, she flicked the appropriate switch to allow entry.
A tertiary impulse blasted off into the disk and without further delay she was offered entry. Skimming through the content she began to pick apart what they contained. Arkanian plots of treason and the measures to stop said treason, plans of attacks on the Underworld of Coruscant, but most importantly the current location of a dirty bomb. Amea brought out a datachip of her own and stuck it into the console. With a worried glance she looked over the battlefield through the torn down wall and began to tap her foot at an increasingly rapid pace. As the download finished she yanked the datachip from its slot and ran out the door towards the stairs.
It was a race against time at this point. From above she heard the dragon coming in once more, and without any further warning yet another section of the house collapsed. At this point Amea was practically jumping from floor to floor down the abandoned staircase. As she hit the bottom floor she pushed out the door and ran for the exit only to find it charred with fire and smoke. Outside the doors laid the burnt remains of soldiers and civilians alike but she had to push for the spaceport.
Someone was going to get her off this planet, be it Sith or friend.
And she was going to stop this bomb from going off. That was a promise
[End of Invasion Participation, I legit have no time.]
Missile not caught by the flak cannons impacted the primary deflector shields along with the mass drivers, before they suddenly flickered out and exposed the secondary deflector shields. Iron Giant's Hypervelocity gamble appeared to pay off, as the first round deflected while the two following it impacted its shields, with a visible disturbance on its port side.
"Opening identified," The Resu Navigator indicated to Iron Giant, now fully equipped to brave the Guerdon on foot, each of the 50 CybeResu activated their field disruptors and gravity belts, prepared to propel themselves against the Battlecruisers shields, stick to its hull, and cut their way through into the ship, wherever they could make the greatest disruption. It was a dangerous ploy, one many would consider to be suicidal, but once they were underneath the heavy shielding of the Guerdon they would become one of the most protected individuals in the system. Sabotage would be the thing that saved the Coalition this battle...
... but then there was a recalculation. As the Iron Blade dipped below the horizon of the Guerdon's dorsal weaponry, the entire enemy ship tilted to its side. More missiles and more weaponry hammered against the Iron Blade's failing secondary shield. Despite being built as a dog of war in its primacy, it was an old ship, one missing a few teeth, and one with 7000 vulnerabilities on board. Not to mention, it was only a single ship a third of the size of its enemy, an enemy with technology decades ahead of the old One Sith Star Destroyer. Energy signatures were spiking across the enemy ship, and the Navigators only had split seconds as they observed the development to come to a decision. It was a logical and calculated risk, computed by both biological and mechanical minds. The interdiction fields produced by the Sith Empire were still up, and the gravity well of Pantora was behind them but far enough away that on ordinary occasion a jump would not have been infeasible. In moments measured by the speed of light, the thoughts of the Navigators commanded the ships hyperdrive safety settings disabled, before the tiniest fraction of a hyperspace jump was calculated. Enough to be out of the way of whatever was coming for them.
The moment the lances fired in a brilliant flash of light the entirety of the Iron Blade was gone.
"Fleet" Action:
Primary shields of the Iron Blade have been disabled, Secondary Shields are up but taking damage.
In the same flash of light from the solar lances, the Iron Blade is gone
Khan cocked his head to the side, It never ceased to amaze him just how much the jedi acted like.. well, jedi..
"Then it would seem that I must- Before finishing, he throws his left hand forward, sending the invisible arc forward as he pushed out with the force.-Distract you"
Without warning, He used the force to grab and sling a pair of crates from nearby, throwing them in front of himself towards the jedi, He expected for the jedi to simply throw them aside, maybe cut them, but it was a minor inconvenience, they were meant to distract him from khan's approach, as he took off in another sprint as soon as he had thrown them, leaping up and changing his grip, holding the saber staff near the bottom for extra reach as swung in a wide, half circle arc in front of him on his way down
Joycelyn’s eyebrows furrowed at Yula’s apparent misunderstanding of her words. It undermined her intent of intimidation and cheaped her hate to shallow anger. Eyeing Yula, Joycelyn inspected her physique. The pink skin made her wary, she had heard of Zeltros before. It made a part of her mind think of lavish nights between silken sheets. Some a memory, some imagined. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she stood up, searing the thought from her mind and keeping the blade of her spear pointed at her opponent.
Even while kneeling, Joycelyn was near the same height as Yula. Standing to her full 8 foot height, she was a veritable giant. Rain pattered down on her armour like fingers. First a dozen, then hundreds. The water evaporated against the bloodshine blade and rose again in steam.
“How about you come here and get a better look.”
The orange sabre was a perfect invitation, bringing a smile to Joycelyn's lips.
Joycelyn took a few bounding steps to close the measure. As she held the longer weapon, she didn’t quite step into Yula’s range. Instead, she kept herself at a range where Joyce herself could comfortably strike with the pike. It had a distinct advantage of reach.
“Perhaps I’ll even braid your hair.”
She swung low with the polearm. The strike was not a crushing blow made to break her opponent, but a swift slash at Yula’s feet to hamper her movement- Or perhaps to draw her into a defensive leap.
The first swipe was immediately followed by a second attack as the spear was pulled back by the rear hand, then stabbed forward, powered by a short step. Mud splashed out from under her feet and the rotation of her rear hand made the quillon blades spin violently while the main blade shot forward.
“It will be fun. I promise.”
The feelings she had seared away came back, but now filtered through a morbid joy of incoming violence. She knew, as any Sith, that passion was the key to strength. Desire and rage were close and easily intermingled into fuel for Joycelyn’s assault. She had no trouble admitting to herself, her opponent was very desirable.
Was it a real desire, or had this pink woman played tricks that Joycelyn couldn’t see?
