Public Operation: Nightfall

[Darth Saevius]

PAGE CLAIM AGAIN BABY!!!​

Objective: I - Subjugation of Iziz
Location: Iziz - City Streets
Tags: Alexander Garrick | [OPEN]
Engaging: Jenn Kryze | Aron Thress

Saevius held the advantage, and sought to push his advantage as far as he could. The Jedi fell back with each attack, and Saevius could seemingly feel his enemy’s defenses reach their breaking point. The two combatants entered into another bind, with their faces locked once again into a stare down. The Sith Lord’s mechanical strength would begin to push upon Aron’s muscles with the same remorseless, steady rhythm of a hydraulic press upon a metal canister. The shimmering blades of energy inched closer and closer, to the point where their heat could likely be felt by the Jedi, until the unexpected happened.

A beam of energy in the shape of... a rope wrapped around Saevius’ heel. The lightsaber resistant metal caused the blade to crackle against his heel, only to recoil shortly after making contact - but not without throwing Saevius off balance and forcing an end to the bind.

The Sith Lord quickly recollected himself and backed away to survey the pair. A Mandalorian, with what appeared to be a... lightsaber whip? Saevius had heard of such things in his studies of the more esoteric cults of the force, but he had never seen one in use until today. But now was not the time for pondering yet undiscovered aspects of the force and the martial arts of both Jedi and Sith.

“I know enough of the Darkside. I’ve seen what it’s done to my family. What it’s done to countless families,” he said, staring deep into the uncaring red of his adversary, before continuing, “The darkside is not your ally. Look what you have become. A creature of endless suffering, pain, and hatred. I will not let you harm any one else in your self-destructive path towards your end. You are a cancer, and I…. I am the cure.”

Aron charged again, his blade coming upwards from the ground, slashing upwards at Saevius’s legs.

If it were possible for Saevius to snarl in derision, he would be doing so now. Instead, a slight grunt of disgust would exit his lips just as the word ‘cancer’ exited those of the Jedi. The speed and ferocity of the attack however, nearly caught the Sith off guard. The young Jedi came in high, but then brought his saber low in a last-minute feint. Saevius brought his saber down to block, but was staggered off balance by the strike and forced to backpedal to maintain his balance. Sparks flew as the tip of the Jedi’s blade caught in between the plating of the armor and clipped a strut along his leg. Thankfully, redundant struts picked up the slack, but a slight limp would begin to set in as the initiative began to shift in favor of the Jedi. His strikes grew quicker and more in balance - as opposed to the reckless manner in which he had previously tried to match Saevius’ strength. Saevius could feel the anger fade away from the Jedi’s mind, to be replaced with the calm the Jedi were known for.

Despite the successful counter-stroke Aron had engaged in, Saevius was able to anticipate his attack pattern and respond in kind. With his last strike, Saevius would deliver an unexpected riposte and get under Aron’s guard. He would waste little time, as he brought his metallic head up hard into an attempted headbutt into the apprentice’s nose. After delivering the strike, Saevius would step back and open his palm toward the Mandalorian.

Blue lightning would surge from his fingertips and crackle toward the armored foe with enough intensity to either bake her within her own armor, or hopefully fry some of her electronic equipment.

The tables were beginning to turn, as two combatants faced off against the Sith Lord. He was equal to the task, but bellowed a command with his disembodied voice nonetheless, to whatever troopers or personnel would be in the area and able to assist. “Kill the Mandalorian!”

 

[Khaostra Devoid]

Back In Black​

Post: 3
Location: Iziz, Onderon near the entrance to the city
Equipment: Red Midnight Duster | Red Sith Armor | Sith Mask | Grav Boots | CrushGaunts | x2 White lightsabers | Forearm Lanvorak | Wrist Laser | Variety of Explosives | RSKF-44 heavy blaster | X-21 shock glove
Tags: Atin Tracinya | Anna Carden

​

Her eyes flaring like violent wildfire her helmet looking like it was about to burst from energy building up inside. Her body started shaking violently and she let out a howling scream that reverberated through the alleyways beneath where she stood. "ahhhhhhahhhhhhhhhhhhh." The echoes bouncing off the walls shaking buildings. rattling windows, and doors. Even cause a few citzens who heard to stop in their tracks at what they thought might be a deathly scream of one of there own in the streets now occupied by soldiers and warfare. Her muscles tightened and her bones quaked as she gave it all she had her body and mind wanted to give out.

Pain coarsed through her body, every muscle ached as she pulled at the drop ship putting everything she had into. She collapsed to her knees on the roof she stood on as she continued to pull with all her focus. Her mind was on freedom, a need to escape the wall. The lives of the soldiers on the drop ship did not matter to her, only her survival. She glanced up at the trajectory of the ship causing her to lose focus for a second but in exhaustion she lost it completely allowing the ship to pull up just a bit but not enough to avoid the wall completely.

Breathing heavily as she sat there on her knees she watched as the ship crash tumbled and rolled smashing into things and even people on the ground. Finally come to rest as a build took one last brunt of the ship's impact. Panic and cries in the street of the pure horror of the situation could be heard. Cries of mothers, fathers, children and siblings. Those screams would forever haunt Khaos's dreams much like those of Csillia and so many other worlds. How many had died at her hands or because of her actions she had lost count, forgotten so desensitized to it at this point.

Aching and weakly she pushed herself to her feet and looked at the partially damaged wall. It was just enough she could possibly make her escape though she would still have to muster up the strength to carry herself that way. Each step hurt pains in her legs as she moved forward, and she felt every searing pain as she leapt from roof to roof towards the wall. It wasn't long though and all that stood between her and the freedom from this city and this war zone was one last building and the drop ship.

She saw as a few soldiers stumbled from the wreckage, Mandalorian. She was still amazed by the fact she had brought down a drop ship like she had, she had only ever read about such actions in books. She had never imagined for a second that she would have been capable of such an act even though it completely exhausted her. One of the soldiers stumbling from the ship looked up and spotted her on the roof of the next closest building.

Khaos didn't notice at first as she surveyed the damage, she had caused seeing many bodies on the ground. Death and Destruction the legacy she had inherited from her mother. She knew she should care and feel something for what she had just done, but instead she felt a strange emptiness, a detachment from her actions. Then she heard it a soldier shouting up at her and seeing the sith mask on her face, he didn't hesitate to raise his rifle and start firing on her which cause her to leap forward and down onto the ground and look for some cover as she grabbed her RSKF-44 from it holster. Mandalorians are some of the most elite warriors in the galaxy. She knew she was way in above her head and exhausted. She listened from behind cover as the Mandalorian called out in Mando'a that he had eyes on a darjetii. Khaos knew there language it was one of the languages of the Rhand a group of Mandalorian's called Warriors of Shadow were one thrid of the founders of Sorcerror's of Rhand.

 

[Gress D'ran]

The Hellstompers

34th Walker Battalion, 1st GADF Army Divsion

Operation Sunrise

Objective: Hit back at the Imps

Engaging: Kroeger

Another run. Gress braced for impact as the Tie's rounds hit the legs, only to find heavy shields this time. With most other weapon systems offline, the shields did their work, absorbing the mass driver rounds, and tanking the missiles. Gress made a mental note to contact Si Tech and sent them some form of gift basket. He still had one fully operational Sphinx though. Time to use it.

"Phones! have Krayt silence that arty. Full turbolaser blast, relay with the Ravens for effective fire. Tell the Eagles to shift targets. They wanna keep our heads down, we can do the same. Hit their back line, stagger barrage."

The roar of thunder filled the air, as the second Sphinx opened up with it's main guns, arcing over to down the ridge, firing on the artillery platoon, before 36 guns intermediately opened up one after another from miles away, hitting the enemy cataphrats and infantry positions.

"Thundercats, hit 'em hard. They're on the defensive and can only focus fire on so many targets."

"Copy sir!"

The 6 Thundercats dropped their shields in favor of their beam cannon, doubling up on the enemy tanks to form composite beams that aimed for vulnerable points. One duo aimed for an exposed missile pod, another two for a main turret, while the third duo aimed right for Kroeger 's main gun. All the while, their mortars never let up, keeping the EMP rounds flying on the enemy tanks.

The Wildcat that had been hit found it's front right track damaged, but it didn't seem to stop it, or any of the other four tanks. With their redundant quad tracks, the tanks just kept rolling close and closer to the imperial front line on the ridge, their beam cannons focusing fire on the same tanks the Thundercats were, while opening up with their quad grenade launchers, aiming not to destroy, but to blind the enemy tanks with directed HE fire at their viewports and sensors.

Gress knew it was only a matter of time before the Maulers and Ties came back.

"Phones, where the hell is Revenant Squadron!?"

"Calling again sir! This is Hellstomper Bravo to Wedge Draav ! We need air superiority fighters ASAP! Six Times Tie Interceptors and One Times Tie Mauler straffing our position!"

"...failing them, call up Liram Angellus and get his boys in the air." The davronian ordered, taking one more drag. This battle was close to over, he hoped.

"Incoming!" The platoon leader called out as he ordered his men back to the Lynxes, popping the particle bubble shield to keep his men safe. Arty impacted, leaving the men stranded inside of the shields, while the 5 Cougars tanked the hits as best they could, one detonating on impact. Another loss. Gress frowned, watching the tank burn. He prayed Liram was in the area, because he could use that air cover...

 

[Thomas Barran]

5th Post

-A SECOND PRELUDE TO TERROR-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARLORD OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags(Friend): Keilara Kala'myr Kurineth Cull Marlon Sularen
Kroeger Ibaris Varanin Hex

Tags(Foe): Brak'rra 'Red Scar' Anakwor Farlorn Gress D'ran Vulpesen

AT THE PRECIPICE II: DISTANT SHOCKWAVES - PART 5

OVERLOOKING BYABBA VILLAGE, BADLANDS FRONTIER,
40-KM NORTH OF BATTLFRONT: IZIZ, ONDERON (901 ABY)

What a karking night....

If its not complaints from Darkhan an' Magnar alike, its news of wounded Marauders.
What the kark could it be this time?​

Barran was returning from the aftermath of the brawl when his comm-device began to light up with activity, with nothing but disapproval and reports of an aggravatingly-inconvenient nature on the other end, unfortunately keeping him company on his short walk back to the bunker in the Western Byabban Overlook. Continuing as he walked down the hallway, strolling down the subtle ramp to the elevator from the security-scanners within the bunker's makeshift gatehouse - and it only seemed to get worse when Rook Darkhan was found waiting within the elevator-pod itself.

'Great Khan, before you begin.... Thomas, listen to me. There's more to this.... BROTHER, SNAP OUT OF IT!!!!'

The look of murderous intent his subordinate was met with, despite the venom of it's daring to take it further, was only met with a cold, white-eyed gaze of obstinate clarity in reply, marking another reminder of why the Human respected his Arkanian friend so much in the first place. This Rook could also see forming in the eye that remained, giving rise to calmer tempers as the Darkhan revealed,'Its the Matriarch's sister - the one you sent our subordinates to retrieve, remember?', slamming the greatest of proverbial puzzle-pieces into place for the sake of the Bloodhound's sanity. Silence would resume meet the Arkanian's candour in it's second showing, though this was ample cue for Rook to continue,'Besides, whatever is lost - those affected are taken by the notion of cybernetic replacement. No skin off our noses, Great Khan.', an assurance of which was fortunate enough to lessen the irritation somewhat.

'Alright.... Take us to wherever she's being detained, whatever floor - lets jus' get this o'er an' done with.'

Nothing else would be said between them on the way to the lower-guardroom, though there was much still that both of the Mongrel's students wanted to say on that evening's events, but even with handpicked inquiries and chidings at the ready, their duties to the Horde (and every part of it's chain-of-command) came first every time. Not that everything was ever sunny and rosy of disposition between the Clique's first Tri-Lunars, as circumstances seldom allowed any need of the sort in a horde that had fought so long against a Galaxy that despised them; and yet, as long as the Bloodhound, Rook and Dreamer alike kept to the teachings of their Mentor, nothing would ever ruin the bond between them.

'She's in here, Great Khan.'

As the hatch-door to the guardroom was opened, Barran took a quick moment to examine his Marauder-bonded relative for bruises, scrapes and cuts alike, turning away to mutter,'Whoever she wounded, I'll commend - an' perhaps - even reward their restraint in due course.... Leave us.', in Rook's ear before turning back to the Matriarch's sister with a look more courteous than the cold-eyed scrutiny she saw just seconds before. From there, Thomas left the hatch-door open behind him as he entered the guardroom, stepping to one side as all the supervising Marauders exited beside him, then strolled towards the other side of the table where Elyssa was sitting at the time - though his friend would wait for the others to leave before making his parting response.

Always one for getting the last word in.

'Before I depart, just know you're still an idiot for that bar-brawl.... I'll be standing-by upstairs, Great Khan.'

Shaking his head in disapproval, the bruised-and-bloodied Woad stifled the urge to turn back with a retort, scoffing through groans as he pulled out a seat and lowered himself to eye-level mutuality, only to groan louder as his knees bent to land backside on seat-surface once and for all. The Bloodhound would take a moment to let the aches run their course, only then deciding to remove his mask in the wake of the echoing hatch-door as it finally closed behind Rook Darkhan, revealing the bruised visage of his eyepatch-wearing face before he finally started,'Hullo, Elyssa.... It would seem we're both in the Scar Hounds' bad books the-day.', only to trail off in sudden, disdainful detection of a dent on the surface of his mask.

'What? A bottle did that? For feth's sake, man!'

Though the ensuing laughter started out as a rueful, callous thing, the inward contextualisations that were grating on his patience then began to gut-punch the Bloodhound in a completely different manner, harshly persuading Thomas into seeing the funny side of his predicament. Shaking his head like before, but instead in disdain for his own thick-headedness, Barran's attentions returned to Kala'myr once more as he continued,'My apologies - been a wild day.... But I suppose it would be pertinent for family to identify himself now.', leaning back into his seat with posture relaxed to calm all semblance of tension from there.

'Through my adoption to the Mongrel's dynasty, I am your sister's brother-in-law, your commander an' political spearhead alike.... I go by many names among the Mawsworn, but in light o' yer blood-relation to our Matriarch, you will come to know me by the name Thomas - Barran.'

 

[Hex]

​

Tag: Keilara Kala'myr Thomas Barran
Location: Surface, Onderon
Objective: smuggle stuff

Spoiler: Equipment

• Neon Lady suit
• ap-25i SIMP pistol
• 'Candles' Heavy particle blaster
• 'confetti' Rocket launcher
• Party Poppers
• Firebee swarm - inferno pattern
• Chewing gum
• Dancer repulsor board
• Jade Void Amulet
• Dervish Knife

Spoiler: Hex dialogue colors

Poor Hex hears voices in her head

Hex speech to others
Hex speech to herself

Hexes inner voices
'...Neutral...'
'...Doubt...'
'...Anger...'
Coloured '.....' are also words that Hex can hear , but I decided not to write them to reduce clutter

Hex sat at the awaiting her fate, looking around at the incredibly militaristic looking room. Something didn't feel right, if this was the jedi there would be some kind of paraphernalia that they used to make then feel good about themselves while they did their work but this was.

'...shabby?...'
"Yeah... kinda."

Her nose ached from where one of the hounds had broken it, but her accelerated healing had already repaired the bone, she just hoped when she saw a mirror it was straight, she hated having to rebreak things because her damn blood was too impatient. Hex wasn't sure how long she'd been waiting when the door finally opened, and in walked Thomas Barran . He looked like a walking injury, beaten and bruised and with a patch covering his eye. "You look like chit" she said, lifting her face up to him, the bruising still evident on her own face and dried blood under her nose and on her chin from the knock out strike. She laughed the laugh of a woman who was out of chits to give and would soon be dead. But then what he said stopped her laugh cold.

'Hullo, Elyssa.... It would seem we're both in the Scar Hounds' bad books the-day.'

If he was from the prison she would be EK239. If she was home, or literally anywhere else except with Hilal Vizsla , she would be Hex. Why did he call her Elyssa?

"Nobody calls me that... I dont call me that... its not my name." It was, and she now knew it, but her brain was still struggling to comprehend it and the idea of it just being out there in use was alien to her. She let out another little laugh as he inspected his mask for apparent damage, popular guy it seems.

Through my adoption to the Mongrel's dynasty, I am your sister's brother-in-law, your commander an' political spearhead alike.... I go by many names among the Mawsworn, but in light o' yer blood-relation to our Matriarch, you will come to know me by the name Thomas - Barran.

'...what?...'

Her eyes widened at all the different names and titles in that short introduction her head was spinning and very confused. What could she say? She leaned her head back and took a deep breath before looking him in the eyes. "I don't know what spice you've been smoking, but I think you've got me confused. My only family are my friends back home and the alliance took them away.

Thomas Barran, I dont know what is going on here, and I have no idea what a mongrel, a matriarch or a mawsworn is. So yeah, start talking sense or stick a bullet in me because im fucking done with this galaxy about now." she cocked her head and stared him right in the eyes raising her eyebrows, almost daring him to kill her.

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe

Objective: Do her old job
Location: Surface, Onderon
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom | Ring of Wishes and Dreams || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Allies: Thomas Barran | Hex | Kroeger | Marlon Sularen | Kurineth Cull | Joseph Torson | Open
Writing With: Silas Westgard | Closed

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Ziare Dyarron | Freedom​

It took me most of the time to get from the top of the building down to street level. Come to think of it, maybe I should get a backpack rocket for the armour, it would make this easier. So by the time I got down to the street, it was pretty deserted. Our people hadn't reached this part yet, and the locals were already hiding in buildings or underground shelters. But even if they had been here, I wouldn't have been particularly interested in their presence. Especially if they were civilians. Explosions, shouts and other sounds of fighting could be heard in the distance, but they did not disturb me. When I approached the place, I could not yet see my opponent in the open, but I could hear his voice in my mind.

I grinned under my helmet; most people probably would have been like that, or most Sith, Scar Hounds members, but I wasn't them. I was never them, I was always more than them. That is why I stood out and became who I was. I had no intention of killing even this boy. He'll be good for getting a message to the other Jedi.

~ For me, it's not a sport, and there's no pleasure in it, but unfortunately it's the only way to lure your kind out of hiding. And I thought a Jedi knew there was no death, only the Force… ~ I replied to him.

I giggled bitterly at his words, although he couldn't hear me because of my helmet. Did he talk about pride and such? Ő? How many thousands, how many hundreds of thousands, or how many millions of slave soldiers were killed just because they were broken and shattered and brainwashed into attacking others under the chains and tortures of the Maw? I was the first to see that in them, I was the one who saved Asher. True, by then it was too late. The Jedi were supposed to exist to help others, yet all they did was kill them. It's ok that our purpose was to die and stupid brainwashing makes them not deserve it either. I mean, they used to not care. But the gift of the Avatars was a lie, they brought death, nothing else..

"I think I have more straightness and pride left in me than your kind." I told him.

I lowered the rifle and slung it over my shoulder; I didn't want to fight him with a rifle, but in close combat. Although I was trained for both, my melee training was much broader and more comprehensive. I learned from the best I could get. Mongrel, aka Asher, and the two groups who trained the Eternal Empress to be one of the most dangerous assassins. By the time he rose, I had no weapon in my hands, so he could see that I was a "man" of my word.

"I want to have a melee duel with you, if I wanted to shoot you I would have lured you out in a different way." I shrugged. "And since I have a task for you, I need you to take a message back to the Jedi."

Carefully and slowly, I reached for my belt to retrieve the two riftblade grips, but then something happened that disturbed the upcoming duel. First a huge warbeast appeared in the sky with a woman on its back, then more winged warbeasts appeared and attacked the streets and the people in them. I, or rather we, were not lucky either, because this unit attacked us as well, or they flew low and circled around the place where we were. I just managed to dodge one of them before the creature's clawed foot caught me. While dodging, I drew the two swords and unsheathed them.

I was prepared to fight not only the Jedi, but also our own. Not that it wasn't my original plan to destroy the Dark Empire from within, but it was too soon. I snarled under my helmet, angry at the intrusion. If the duel was cancelled because of this... I hoped I could get the message across to the kid..

"Looks like you're in luck today... Jedi. And you won't come home to your own people without limbs." I told him again, while the flying warbeasts made me jump for cover; they were annoying.

 

[Maestus]

Dxun
Valery Noble

Interesting. The Light vanished, quick as it had appeared. Maestus mused on the reasons why as she continued towards the tomb. Perhaps the Light Bearer was afraid? After all, the Dark Empire and all its merry men were out in force tonight. Hell bent on galactic domination, if the rumors were to be believed. She brushed that thought aside. She'd very briefly felt the power in the Light Bearer before it was hidden. That power...Maestus wasn't used to that level of strength from most she ran into. Strength like that demanded respect.

She tossed a glance over her shoulders towards the trees. Perhaps the infant Drexl was still near. Watching. She absently made a mental note to find it. After, so long as she walked away.

And then the Light was revealed to the world again in all its glory. Maestus inhaled deeply, settling her senses and thoughts. The Drexl forgotten as she turned her gaze towards the tomb and the source of the Light. Valery Noble stood at the precipice of the steps, shining like a beacon of purity on a moon so despoiled by the corruption and The Dark Side.

She slowed her pace as she began to ascend the steps towards the Light Bearer. For her part, the power of the Dark Side oozed off the Twi'lek. Rolling wave after wave of corruption, barely restrained rage and general discontentment wafted from the Sith. The centers of her eyes looked like little obsidian pin pricks encircled by raging orangish-red flames that danced with wild abandon. She looked Valery from head to toe with her eyes, then opened herself fully to the ebbs and flows of the Force and listened as it spoke in an ethereal sing song.

She climbed the steps until she stood on even footing with the Jedi. Maestus made no aggressive or intimidating movements. Such posturing may be common for today's Sith, but something told her that the Jedi before her had heard it all before. As had Maestus, ad nauseam. Anyone could give voice to anything. Words by themselves were meaningless. Actions, now, those were very telling. Leaving a few meters space between them, Sith faced Jedi.

I don't suppose you'd be willing to stand aside?​

 

[Detritus Ren]

Location: Tomb of Freedon Nadd, DXUN, Onderon System
Allies: Knights of Ren: Cairan Shannon
Enemies: Jedi: Joran Olan
Objective: 3

The apparition of Hans would raise an eyebrow at the angry statement made by Detritus. Detritus would continue to step forward cautiously towards the tome before him. "By right? Is that what you thought when you struck me down? The one who stood beside me as we took our oaths, as we fought and bled together." The ghost of Hans didn't speak with anger, but as if a sibling who was disappointed in the path his battle brother had chosen. The judgmental eyes behind the metal mask of Rurik Fel would only continue to persist. His arms were crossed above his chest as if a Father who had disowned his Son. Hans would continue to hover over Detritus's prize as if continuing to poke the boma beast regardless of what would come next.

Detritus would increase his step towards the tome. His fury was boiling as he didn't expect his past to come haunt him on this Force Forsaken moon. He had thought these demons long excised had appeared once more, as if it all was a final insult in the name of his past as once a good man, an honorable warrior of peace and justice. Detritus would furrow his brow, the anger coming off of him was palpable as he looked towards both of the men. "ENOUGH!" Detritus would shout towards the two, his patience quickly wearing thin on his pursuit for Sith secrets to increase his power. Hans would only continue to hover over the tone, his hands almost appearing to hold it to further anger and bait Detritus into coming closer.

His cautious steps were more like angry stomps as he advanced towards his prize. "Both of you are not real! Both of you are dead, reduced to ash and dust, names that will be forgotten! You are nothing more than illusion and trickery of Sith Magic!!" He would shout towards the two. This time the figures would say nothing, and act as if Detritus had won his prize at last. He told himself that there was nothing more than illusions, but within his mind was the looming doubt that it was them. Reaching towards the tome with shaky fingers Detritus would bite back the urge to lash out violently through the dark side in an effort to make the judgmental glares from both spirits cease entirely.

His fingers would grasp the ancient manuscript within his very grasp. Relieved by the feeling of worn leather across his fingers he pulled the tome towards him. "Nothing will deny me, nothing! Not even you!" He said pointing a finger triumphantly towards Hans. Hans would only shake his head. Detritus would waste no time opening the first pages of the book. At long last, through an arduous day he had found what was kept from him. He could make out the Sith language as was found during the hunt on Batuu. He could slowly make out spells, incantations, rituals. All of it was right here before him. A grin slowly spread under his mask knowing that he had gained what he wanted.

The apparition of Hans would glare once more at Detritus. Crossing his arms along with Rurik now he spoke as if he had won. "How little you understand, Jin." He spoke Detritus's true name as if venom to unleash upon the Master of Ren. In that moment just as Detritus would start to understand, he had seen the texts before him and slowly the words would move around, switching places until what he could make out before had become a jumbled mess of letters, and broken words in his mind. "What!" Detritus would say in angered surprise. What had been so clear from before had become unintelligible in his mind, gibberish as it were then the sith spells he could make out before. "What trickery is this??" Detritus would say angrily, as he gripped the worn leather of the book hard that he threatened to tear it apart completely.

The apparition of Hans would now himself grin triumphantly. "Why just the fruits of your labor, you so rightfully deserve my brother." He would say with a chuckle, as Detritus would stare at both spirits ready to unleash the dark side in full. Through his rage, and gathering the dark side within himself he would fail to notice something moving along the ceiling above him. Hans with a cocky smirk would then only gesture his index finger upwards to what was skittering across the ceiling. Detritus would take the que to look up slowly, his rage only smoldering for now. Upon following the apparition's gesture would he witness hundreds of beetle like insects moving about. Just as the ghost of Hans had promised would Detritus be given his well earned reward.​

 

[Grisha Fletch]

Their blades did not meet in a clash of crimson and gold like Grisha anticipated, instead the Sith had evaded the feint and promptly called upon the might of the dark side of the force. The burst of energy hit like a landspeeder, an angry blow from something thrice Grisha’s size. It knocked him back, threatening to put him onto his back, but instead the Jedi Knight leapt back into his fall, flipping in the air and landing back in a stronger stance while one hand shot behind him to arrest his skidding through the mud before he crashed through a tree.

Had it not been for the calculated sidestep, Grisha would’ve been certain of the kind of foe he was facing. He recalled his lessons and his trainings, Sith tended to either favor their martial might or their dark abilities, often at the expense of the other. This one could’ve fooled Grisha into believing he was the latter if all he’d done was call on the force, but no dark chanting escaped his lips and no arcane sorcery spread from his fingertips into the forsaken jungle. The evasion had been practiced though.

This one could fight, he was only playing a longer game.

Grisha gave the dual edged-pike an experimental flourish, blades casting their glow over him amidst shadow. His eyes narrowed as his mind focused, the Force flowing through him with a natural ease as he took in a deep breath and threw half of near-rotted log through the air at the Sith with ease.

This time there was no follow up, no feint, instead he watched and waited. They could throw stones and waves of energy back and forth at one another until the jungle became a desert, and it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Darth Apophion

 

[Veylin Torque]

Objective 1
Wayward Children Privateering Company
Aboard the Dream Chaser and on the Hill Below​

Veyllin was in the midst of a conversation to unwind the confusion regarding their weapon delivery to the resistance when a call came over the comms.

"CAPTAIN! SQUADRONS OF BOMBERS INBOUND! THEY'RE FIRING PROTON TORPEDOES AND BOMBS!!"

Veylin's eyes went wide.

Proton Weapons?

Their warheads would be in the kiloton range, at least. They wouldn't just potentially wipe out the Dream Chaser, but could scour the whole hill and a kilometer of terrain in every direction. It seemed likely to Veylin that even the closest Imperial ground units would be in terrible danger.

The Dream Chaser was hovering just a meter above the ground. There was no time to make evasive maneuvers. And even if the torpedoes could be led astray with electronic countermeasures or jammers, they'd surely still hit the ground somewhere nearby and detonate with enough power to topple entire neighborhoods.

"You need to shoot down the torps," Veylin responded quickly. "There's no two ways about it. Activate Electronic Countermeasures and get as high as you can before they arrive. But shoot those torpedoes, or hundreds of people here will die. Cheyla, if you survive me, you're in charge."

There was no time to say anything else.

Either the Dream Chaser's gunners would perform a miracle, or everyone was toast. Fortunately, the entire crew was packed with experienced veterans. If anyone could manage a miracle, it was them.

Eight twin laser cannons opened fire upon the inbound torpedoes and bombs, orange-red bolts seeking them out... and seeking out everyone's only chance to live.

---

B1-173 "Omar"
Anakwor Farlorn Vulpesen Kurineth Cull Brak'rra 'Red Scar' Joseph Torson Ayhan Thomas Barran Mahsa IMPERA

 

[Darth Apophion]

OBJECTIVE 3: THE DARKNESS WITHIN
ALLIES: DARK EMPIRE
ENEMIES: GA, JEDI, Grisha Fletch


Apophion's telekinetic attack managed to knock the Jedi off balance, driving him back. However, just as quickly as the Jedi was blasted backward, with a quick flip Grisha was back in a defensive position. Apophion expected a quick counter, but no attack came. Instead, The Jedi flourished his double-bladed lightsaber and waited for Apophion to bring the fight to him.

Darth Apophion, used a curved hilt lightsaber design along with a preferred form of Makashi, he favored its precision and elegance, which mirrored the principles of classical posture. He positioned his body side-on, minimizing his profile to the Jedi Guard, his front foot pointing straight towards his adversary, while his back foot was placed perpendicular, offering a stable yet flexible base. Grisha may have been able to trick the average bladesman with his feint-low sweep attack, but Apophion's footwork was far too superior to be caught by such a tactic.

With a grace that belied the malice behind his intent, Darth Apophion advanced, his movements fluid and precise. The tip of his red lightsaber was pointed up slightly at Grisha's face. He pushed on his back leg, and through his front leg forward in a classic lunge forward. Apophion's blade thrusted towards the Jedi's neck. But Apophion post mid-thrust pulled his wrist downwards, into the double-bladed lightsaber hilt itself. Such weapons were known for their larger hilts as a weak point, and if he could disarm the Jedi the fight would be over before it could start.

 

[Grisha Fletch]

Makashi, he should've expected as much.

His eyes narrowed behind the mask, and when the Sith Lord moved, Grisha matched him. But where the Sith Lord launched one feint, the Jedi had meant to make one of his own. His own blades sung as they arced through the night air, but instead of trying to parry the strike at his neck, Grisha channeled the force and his training to pivot and sidestep, the distance created in the quick movement gave him precious time, and when the Sith blade came down it met ignited kyber rather than the hilt housing it. Gold and crimson flashed against one another, Grisha having spun the pike about to parry away the feint.

Grisha backstepped, sunk low, then surged forward, striking from low on the left, then high on the right, mixing his slashes in a calculated effort to confuse and overwhelm. He didn't doubt the Sith would parry them all and answer them in kind, but that was to be expected. He'd persevere and overcome, an opening would come.

Darth Apophion

 

[Darth Apophion]

OBJECTIVE 3: THE DARKNESS WITHIN
ALLIES: DARK EMPIRE
ENEMIES: GA, JEDI, Grisha Fletch

Darth Apophion's mastery of Makashi, coupled with his deep understanding of the Force, allowed him to anticipate and adapt to the Jedi's advanced techniques. He recognized Grisha's attempt to introduce unpredictability into the duel, a strategy that demanded a response not just of strength but of cunning and precision. Apophion's footwork was a dance of death, each step calculated to maintain optimal distance and positioning.

Grisha launched his aggressive assault, using the speed of his weapon to launch low and then high strikes in an unpredictable order. Apophion executed a flawless defense, parrying attack after attack with a slight movement of the hips. But Apophion knew that to truly gain the upper hand, he needed to exploit the Jedi's momentum against him. Making a daring move, Apophion suddenly ducked under Grisha's high right strike. Drawing on the force to enhance his agility for a quick thrust at Grisha's waistline. Apophion timed the strike so his thrust would strike as Grish's blade passed over him.

 

[Grisha Fletch]

Grisha had little experience in the field, that much was true, but the word ‘prodigy’ had been used more than once during his upbringing. The force worked in tandem with his own natural athleticism and reflexes, sharpening his instincts, and much like his opponent, allowing him to predict things before they happened. For all of that, he still wasn’t fast enough to escape unscathed.

The Jedi spun away from the strike at his side too late, and though he avoided a fatal skewering, he was not spared the bite of the crimson blade against his side. It scorched through his robes and opened a black and burning slash in his flesh. Nothing had ever hurt like it before, nothing had ever come close.

But he didn’t falter, the force was his ally and the battle was far from over. The pain radiated from the wound with a fury, but Grisha moved anyway. Overcommitting to a lunging strike, only to feint another from down low before spinning the blade for a true strike at the Sith’s leg from the right, hoping that he might slow the Lord’s footwork down in the process.

That much he had to give his opponent’s skill credit for, so it only made sense to try and take it away.

Darth Apophion

 

[Darth Apophion]

OBJECTIVE 3: THE DARKNESS WITHIN
ALLIES: DARK EMPIRE
ENEMIES: GA, JEDI, Grisha Fletch

Apophion had fought the Jedi many times, or rather their kin in the Ashlan Crusade. Crossing blade with various Jedi who were skilled in various styles and forms. His physicality was top-notch, and his footwork was at a premium. Grisha was skilled, just as much as Apophion, but his weapon and style were a limitation. Thrusts with a double-bladed lightsaber were awkward, and vertical attacks along with drawing cuts were almost non-existent. This meant Apophion could anticipate attacks that largely came from the left or right. And counter with hard-to-deflect thrusts towards his torso and guard.

Apophion felt his blade struct true to its target. Burning through robes and cutting at the waist. He could smell the burning flesh. His opponent would likely counter with a haymaker, something to build on the sudden burst of adrenaline and pain caused by the strike. Realizing this he broke the engagement dashing backwards out the Jedi's weapons reach. When Grisha did swing, he swung wide, finding neither leg nor blade.

Time was on Apophion's side.

With his free hand, Apophion reached out with the force. Instead of trying to choke Grisha to death, he focused on the Jedi's waist and the wound. Gripping at it telekinetically to make it worse.

 

[Grisha Fletch]

Grisha had been burned once, or hurtled more accurately, and had learned his lesson. The instant that Apophion created the gap between them, his eyes went to the hand that was free of a blade. When the Sith’s hand lifted, Grisha’s was already up, the force flowing through FIA fingertips and curling around the wrist of the Sith Lord. Then he yanked the man back toward him as hard as he could by the outstretched wrist.

With any luck Apophion would lose his balance, and stumble into the upward arc that Grisha swung his blade in to meet him. Sith had survived worse than a slash up their torsos, but Grisha hoped that this engagement would end then and there.

If not, he’d push until he did.

Darth Apophion

 

[Thomas Barran]

6th Post

-A SECOND PRELUDE TO TERROR-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARLORD OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags(Friend): Keilara Kala'myr Kurineth Cull Marlon Sularen
Kroeger Ibaris Varanin Hex

Tags(Foe): Brak'rra 'Red Scar' Anakwor Farlorn Gress D'ran Vulpesen

AT THE PRECIPICE II: DISTANT SHOCKWAVES - PART 6

OVERLOOKING BYABBA VILLAGE, BADLANDS FRONTIER,
40-KM NORTH OF BATTLFRONT: IZIZ, ONDERON (901 ABY)

An' there I thought Clan Barran was complicated.
House Kala'myr would seem to have us beat in that category.​

'Even when they're not affiliated to the Dark, I still have to break their programming.... Really? No wonder I hold these beliefs o' mine, you've got to be kidding me with this caper.'

Rubbing with fingertips deep into his temples, soothing the brain in the attempt to make sense of what he was suddenly faced with, it seemed as though the Bloodhound and Hex alike were left in a state of confusion, though it was doubtless that the latter's was far more intense than that of the former in these moments. But in that understanding, Barran began to sympathise with the struggle of learning one's true identity, remembering (and with crystalline clarity at that) the very day his own, his true identity was revealed.

'Sorry, that wasn't directed at you.... Still, it would seem that even the Cosmos has an axe t'grind with me, as this is a complication for which I was supremely unprepared. But before I begin, ye can rest-assured in the knowledge that you're safe now, or at least - as safe as one can hope in the midst of an active warzone, eh?'

Taking cigarras out of his pocket, leaving one on the table for Hex and lighting his own, Thomas would take a few draws from his own before concluding,'I see now there's pieces missing from our intel, but in our clear misunderstanding - I see perhaps a story I am yet to hear.... An' perhaps, even a story you are yet to hear in turn.', before leaving the lighter next to the one he offered Elyssa just moments before. After that the Bloodhound would resume his observant silence, returning to his cigarra whilst reaching into his pocket again, but this time for a Datapad; placing it on the table with the small cigarra-carton, kept in reserve for the sake of the conversation, but mostly in the effort to refrain from overloading the detainee's senses all at once.

 

[Darth Apophion]

OBJECTIVE 3: THE DARKNESS WITHIN
ALLIES: DARK EMPIRE
ENEMIES: GA, JEDI, Grisha Fletch

Apophion didn't see the counter coming, it felt like his left arm popped out of his socket. He half-stumbled forward. Grisha seized the moment. The Jedi's movements, though fluid and well-executed, were a pattern the Sith Lord was prepared to disrupt. He fully utilized Makashi, focusing on the economy of motion and precision over brute strength. As Grisha closed in, Apophion Managed to deflect the blade at the last moment. If the Jedi was eager to meet his blade-to-blade Apophion would meet him then.

Apophion was undeterred. He quickly regained his footing and attacked with a series of thrusts to the torso. Mixing in feints and probing strikes to gauge his reaction times and test his defenses. Grisha had overcommitted once, Appophion could get him to do it again. He gave on quick thrust to the man's heart hoping to end it for good.

 

[Liram Angellus]

GAME ON YAKHEAD!​

Spoiler: CARRIER and ESCORT

LEAD SHIP NAME: CELESTIAL CITY
SHIP CLASS: SUPER CARRIER
EQUIPPED: 25x L4Vele Series Deployable Defense turrets.
Amenediel Shuttle Mk II

SHIP NAME: LIBERTY'S LIGHT
SHIP CLASS:

ANTI-STARFIGHTER

Spoiler: FIGHTER COMPLIMENT

FIGHTER COMPLIMENT:
103rd Tactical Starfighter Wing "Angel of Death Squadron"

LONG-RANGE INTERCEPTION
[*]Super Archangel class Multi-Role Fighter/Interceptor (10 Squadrons)

STEALTH/RECON FIGHTER
[*]Elysian class Strike fighter (10 Squadrons)

181st Tactical Starfighter Wing “Voodoo Wing”

MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER
[*]NC-1000 X-Wing (10 Squadrons)
[*]Capital A-Wing (4 Squadrons)

BOMBERS W ESCORT
[*]"AMF" Y-wing Bomber (6 Squadrons)
[*]Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter (5 Squadrons)

78th Support Air Division “Ares Wing”

SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS
[*]Cherub Gunship (2 Squadrons)
[*]Cherub Transport (2 Squadrons)

SPACIAL COMBAT AND RENDITION - SCARs use the Jackal Fighter for its balance of speed and maneuverability as well as its remote capabilities. This allows the elite pilot/operators to"bail" and operate in zero-G often a tactic in boarding capital ships.
SCAR WING
[*]Jackal Class Starfighter (1 Squadron)

Spoiler: ETHEREAL MARINES PER CARRIER

Seraphim Marines
Powered Armor
Cherub Troop Transport
Cherub Gunship
Saraquael Fighting Vehicles
A-2319 Tanks
"Haniel" Tank Mk II
"Gundark" Multi-Purpose Vehicle
Jackhammers
"Mauler" Class Mobile Command Center
18x Skycranes

For anyone that wants to read it, The Angellus family history to this point Is here.
Angellus "Ewan Isaacs - CAG/SCAR Teams CO"
[ANY COMMUNICATIONS INSIDE THESE BRACKETS ARE THE RESULT OF COMMS COMMUNICATION]
SECTOR: Onderon
ORDERS: Engage Sith Order/Final Dawn/any non-GA Forces
WINGMATES: @Gress D’ran | @Ewan "Raider" Isaacs
ENGAGING: Marlon Sularen | @Arminius Kroeger

“Sir, incoming message from Onderon.”

Angellus was sitting in his office, the carrier “Celestial City” was in dock for resupply and would be for the next several days. It was a slow and boring day to be frank, and a message that should raise his alert, brought curiosity. Getting up and walking out to the bridge without response, he simply spoke up. Send it to my table.

The message sent in was coming from a warzone, Alliance Forces were getting hammered. Which made him wonder two different possibilities, either the Alliance Commanders were incompetent, or the forces against them were just that good. While his opinion hinted towards one end, he knew more likely it was the other.

Admiral has the CONN.

Bringing up different communications channels, several different individuals, all Alliance personnel came up on the screens. Recall your staff, Shore Leave is cut.. There was surprise among all of the respondents, but they knew that Angellus would not do so if the situation was not dire. COMMS CONN, sound all stations.

The familiar whistle of a sounding on all channels rang through the halls and decks of the ship.

All hands! Sounding General Quarters, this is not a drill! Repeat. This is NOT A DRILL. We move in thirty minutes, if you are not on station, we go without you!

Like Clockwork, thirty standard minutes later, the carrier “Celestial City” and her escort “Liberty’s Light” jumped to hyperspace. Enroute, Liram had all pilot briefing rooms on his comm table, luckily they all could morph into one room as the connecting walls were removed. A mixture of “Starfighter”, “Superiority”, “Stealth”, “Attack” and “Bomber” pilots sat waiting for Rules of Engagement and directives as their C.A.G. (Commander Air Group) Commander Ewan “Raider” Isaacs stepped aside. All yours, sir. The Ethereal Marines were on the other screen as well, each, the foot soldiers, the tankers, the gunship/transport pilots, the gunners, the mech drivers, all of them stood, or sat waiting, Colonel Telaskta stood aside, and nodded quietly.

Ladies, Gentlemen, each of you are here because {I]I want you to be[/I]. I chose you, you were not assigned. Each of you are the best at what you do, the perfect fit for these two air wings. You are heroes, each and every one of you, regardless of the outcome, because you are not forced to be here, you chose to be, we all do.

There is no strife, no prejudice, no intergalactic conflict in outer space as yet we would stand down from. Its hazards are hostile to us all. Its conquest deserves the best of all sentient-kind, and its opportunity for peaceful cooperation may never come again but we will always fight for it so that others do not have to. But why, some say, peace? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask why climb the highest mountain? Why, years ago, fly the hyperlanes? Why do Sullustans play Sabbacc?
We choose to go for peace. We choose to fight for it in this lifetime and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too. We fight so that our friends and family, and even people to whom we had never met at home do not have to.

Ignore the racket made by these savages. There are more women than men in their ranks. They are not soldiers—they're not even properly equipped. We've beaten them before and when they see our weapons and feel our spirit, they'll crack. Stick together. Throw the javelins, fire the blasters then push forward: knock them down with your cannons and finish them off with your missiles. Forget about plunder. Just win and you'll have everything.

This brought a cheer from almost everyone in the room, Pilots and Marines alike, but Angellus wasn’t done.

MARINES! Devil DAWGS! OORAH! The Sith suckerpunched us and we’re getting back up. It’s time for you crazy schuttas do best. Track them down and throw an overhand right! We go to liberate, not to conquer. We will not fly our flags on their planet. We are entering Onderon to free the people and the only flag which will be flown in that ancient land is their own. Show respect for them. The Sith? Screw’em! cheers, hoots, and hollers

There are some who are alive at this moment who will not be alive shortly. Those who do not wish to go on that journey, we will not send. As for the others, I expect you to rock their world. Wipe them out if that is what they choose.But if you are ferocious in battle remember to be magnanimous in victory.

Onderon is steeped in history. The site of so many points in history that must be treated with respect and remembered. Tread lightly where you can. I say this not to hold you back or tie a hand to your belt, fight ferociously where you must. They will not respect anything other than victory, you take that fight directly to them as only you can.

You will see things that no man could pay to see-- and you will have to go a long way to find a more decent, generous and upright people than the Iraqis.You will be embarrassed by their hospitality even though they have nothing.D on't treat them as refugees for they are in their own country. Their children will be poor, in years to come they will know that the light of liberation in their lives was brought by you.

If there are casualties of war then remember that when they woke up and got dressed in the morning they did not plan to die this day.Allow them dignity in death.Bury them properly and mark their graves.It is my foremost intention to bring every single one of you out alive.
But there may be people among us who will not see the end of this campaign.

We will put them in their sleeping bags and send them back.There will be no time for sorrow.
The enemy should be in no doubt that we are their nemesis and that we are bringing about their rightful destruction. There are many galactic commanders who have stains on their souls and they are stoking the fires of Mustafar for those who would serve the Sith, be it loyally or self-servingly. Them and their forces will be destroyed by this coalition for what they have done. As they die they will know their deeds have brought them to this place. Show them no pity, they don’t deserve it and they won’t show it to you. They’re going to try to stab you in the gut, so you shoot them in the face! hoots and hollers

It is a big step to take another life. I think about each and every one I have. It is not to be done lightly. I know of men and women who have taken life needlessly in other conflicts.

I can assure you they live with the mark of Cain upon them.
If someone surrenders to you then remember they have that right ingalactic law and ensure that one day they go home to their family. I don’t see any of that happening though, they’ll want to fight, and the ones who wish to fight, well, we aim to please. Stick together, and watch your six.

The Sith had their chance and wasted it, now we’re coming… we’re bringing the storm AND WE…WILL…KICK…THEIR…TEETH IN!

The familiar drop out of hyperspace came and all stations were marking ready.

We dropped just outside the sector. You have your orders, you have your will, you have your fight! Now go kick some tail! Game on Yakheads!

Enthusiastically, almost like children running to recess, pretty much everyone went running out, grabbing gear and weapons.

Carrier “Celestial City” and anti starfighter escort “Libertie’s Light” dropped just outside the sector behind the moon of Dxun. [/B]

Carrier and escort will move in with fighters. Escort covering starfighters and targeting Sith Bombers.

Carrier is using long range cannons to pummel blockading ships closest to where the fighters will punch through.

[B][I]All Starfighters, and Marines logistics are in the above spoilers[/I]

[B]“Elysian” Stealth Fighters are taking the long way around to wait for the “hit and run” opportunities on the Sith Fleet and blockading ships. 

“Super-Angel” and “Capital A-Wing” Starfighters are to “punch a hole” through defenses and get the bombers, the transports, the gunships and the X-wings down to the planet. 

Ethereal Marines are coming down to re-inforce and backup the Hellstompers. 

“Cherub” Gunships will run anti-personnel air support. 

“Sovereignty” heavy assault fighters will be running heavy close air support and tertiary bombing missions. 

Y-wings will be running primary bombing runs on [U]all[/U] Sith targets. 

X-wings will be running “Targets of opportunity”. Their primary role will be air superiority, but they will hit any Sith target no matter what it is.[/SPOILER][/B]

 

[Grisha Fletch]

Blow after blow came down, Grisha struck, then Apophion, on and on and on. Crimson over gold, gold over crimson, the flash of the light splashing over their features underneath the jungle’s canopy. The Sith was strong, skilled, persistent, there was going to be no easy victory here.

When the fatal strike was launched, he was ready, dropping back and swinging the bottom blade up to parry the strike to the left the blade kissing the folds of his robes. A close call. He spun the blade around and came down from up and right, aiming to land a slash where the Sith’s arm met his shoulder.

Darth Apophion