Planet at the Edge of the Verse | Rebellion of Hex G-50

Yula Perl · Feb 16, 2019

Location: Terminus Undercity
Objective: Help reinforce Zak’s position
Enemies: FO
Engaging: [member="Luther Ando"] [Ike Parker] | [member="Dax Fyre"]
Nearby FO: [member="Sibar Laval"]
Nearby ORC: [member="Zak Amroth"] | [member="Elaine Thul"]

Yula’s sheepish smile turned into a more genuine grin despite the admonishment. “Glad to hear that Saya’s following in your footsteps, Uncle Dax. Sounds like she’s going to give you and Auntie Ki a run for your credits!” Their family was blended; blood ties, adoptions and close relations were all counted equally. “Ma’s good. Busy with the company; she just bought some fancy hotel in downtown Zeltros. I’ll tell her to ping you sometime. Free stay and all that.” Yula paused, thoughts dwelling on her mother. “Oh, uh…” Back with the guilty smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you could…not tell mom? Please?” Awkwardly, she rubbed the back of her neck and tried to do her best puppy dog eyes.

Yula had expected to be handed a blaster or a knife—not a lightsaber, and certainly not a weapon that held so much sentimental value! Her eyes widened as she looked towards the proffered hilt. For once, there was hesitation in her gaze. “Uncle Dax, I can’t…” But she did, reaching out towards the saber until her hand had wrapped around the hilt. Though in good condition, it had a sort of weathered feel to it, weighted with the experience of two masters. Don’t say that; I’m probably going to lose this! Somehow, the joke didn’t find its way out. Instead, she smiled. “Thank you, Uncle Dax. I promise I'll take good care of it.”

Their little moment came to an end when out from the shadows of the alley came a man, bleeding from the shoulder. Yula didn’t recognize him until he spoke her name and a new, even fresher wave of surprise hit her. “I…did what? That whole thing was a setup?” She looked towards Dax for a lead, feeling the shift in the Force as her uncle’s guard heightened. Suddenly she felt very embarrassed, perhaps flustered that she’d been captured in the first place, and now she’d ruined their once chance at peace and all of this happened because of her and…alright, maybe he was lying. “You should have told me! I could have helped you. Or at the very least, not set the building on fire.” She pointed wildly in the vague direction from which he'd come to punctuate her point. While this was going on, Dax had been answering a distress call from another part of the undercity.

Yula turned to face the presumed gangster fully, face scrunched in a mix of bewilderment and distrust. Something wasn’t adding up. What was to be done in a situation like this? What if he was lying? What if he was telling the truth, what then? Dax’s presence made her feel safer, put her more at ease if that was at all possible in a warzone. Yula inherently wanted to trust this agent, to believe that there were good people in the galaxy that would fight for what was right. Who didn’t think that they weren’t fighting for the right cause, though?

Dax invited him along, what was done was done. Yula clipped the saber to her belt and stalked forward. “If you’re going to roll with us,” She brushed back the tatters and widened the rips around his wound, not wanting to catch any of his clothing. “We can’t have you bleeding out all over the place.” Her good hand pressed to his injury and her face creased in concentration. Suddenly, a steady burst of flame emitted from her palm and licked up toward her fingers. She groaned softly through her teeth as her burned hand came to rest on his shoulder for added support, making sure to keep the pressure up against his wound. “There.” She exhaled, straightening up. “Let’s hope they trained you better than those lieutenants.”

Without much else to say, Yula turned and paced back towards The Sparrow, hopping aboard the ship as it lowered. With any luck, she’d find something to bandage her burnt arm with before they got into the meat of the fighting.

Darth Ferus · Feb 16, 2019

"Right in the middle of a rebellion eh? Smart. Use the chaos to carve through." Krest chuckled faintly as he cleaned the dull blade of the Templar's Edge he wore. The aged Zabrak had both his axe and sword, fully preparing himself for the fight ahead. The label "Assassin" really didn't fit who he was. While he once lead the Sith Assassins, he was never one himself.

The tall man stepped over beside Draconis, sheathing the dull blade on his hip as he glanced to the door. "You ready for this kid? It certainly won't be easy."

[member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Achilles"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Cyrus Tregessar"]

Vorhi Alestrani · Feb 17, 2019

Location: Within the halls
Objective: Ambush the ambushers
Friends: [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Griet van Vliet"]
Dancing partners: [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Kaiah Nihl"] [member="Jorah zos Darnus"]

Weapons: a surprisingly hardy gourd on a red rope, full of something very dangerous. Some very nice silk robes. What else would he need?

The blind monk grinned. How nice of his prey to prove him right. Multiple breaches, using precision to compensate for raw firepower. He raised his gourd to a lips and took a swig. Bitter. Green. Bad. The others might be able to sense the elixir in his bottle, as it had a small presence in the force all its own. Tilund might recognize it from Skor. The others, who could say. A small bit of green smoke came from his lips. "Coren, I believe we should welcome our guests. If they are so eager to seek a fight, then shouldn't they get one worth remembering?"

His voice wasn't morbid. Despite the grim truth reflected in his words, it was...cheerful. Pleasant. And it wasn't some simple game face. He didn't love death. But conflict? Conflict was training, it was testing, it was life. It was a strangely lovely thing to him. The self-avowed 'Darksiders' drowned themselves in hate and rage and passion, feeding off of their enemies. The lightsiders focused on compassion, and control, and discipline. Vorhi was neither. In this, he saw joy, and life, and rapture. To him, the battlefield was where his bliss grew. He grinned, taking another sip from his gourd, a wretched potion, one never meant to be imbibed. But then again, it's not his body couldn't take it. He'd definitely done worse. He smiled, walking slowly. He felt the whisper.

Come meet your doom.

Quaint. Doom. Druckenwell had been doomed when they'd dropped an orbiting space station on him. Melida/Daan had been awash with the living dead. Dagobah, charred under the machinations of Sith sorcery. Skor II, when fire rained from the sky. Utapau, denied the force and its power, left to be sacrificed to a dark emperor for the Sith. Geonosis, when Jorus Merrill had shot him full of Cortosis to the point his kidneys nearly failed. And now, in these hallowed halls, 'doom' was coming yet again.

The whisperer would hear a voice back. Nowhere near the hangar. Nowhere near anywhere. Vague, as if echoing throughout. Sourced from eachoes within a meditation chamber, a single response would come.

Promises are made to be kept, little lord of Ren.

Hatred gave these knights focus. However, hatred was like fire. If it burned too brightly, if it led you too far, you wouldn't walk back from the edge or change course. So, then, with such an enemy, you toy with them. Taunt them. Forraderri was not merely a form. It was a philosophy. That was the lesson so few learned. Appear harmless until the time to strike. Laugh as your enemy rages, to enrage him further. Vorhi continued walking, smiling. Sipping from his gourd. His enemy would greet him soon enough. And then, the real fun would begin.

Coren Starchaser · Feb 17, 2019

Location: Star Temple
Allies: Outer Rim
Enemies: First Order
Tags: [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] [member="Griet van Vliet"], [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Jorah zos Darnus"] [member="Kaiah Nihl"]

Hangar did make the most amount of sense. And from there, it was pretty quick to get towards the command deck, if the disturbance was to make it into the ship through other means. But really, even Coren was more a type to at least be polite enough to take the hangar. Especially if the door was open. The warning klaxons were still going off, while he listened to the two monks.

“I’m not intending on causing widespread death on this vessel. We’ve got students here. Guardians will take up their posts to fight anyone who comes their way, but it’ll fall to this team to spearhead it.” He took a breath and hit the command switch again. “Move power to shields. Prepare to repel intruders.”

He stopped for a moment.

“They’re here.” He grabbed his lightsaber and turned.

We will handle them. Protect the ship. Protect the fleet. He called out to the Gnost-Joral in the Force.

“And I think you are right, Vorhi. Very right indeed.” He reached out to the Jedi and through a change in tactics from Starchaser, a wave of focus, of calming, trying to link the minds with a sense of purpose.

A sense of Valor.

Kaiah Nihl · Feb 17, 2019

Kaiah Nihl, Disciple of Ren.
Equipment: RX-1 Helmet, Flame Retardant Robes, Crimson Lightsaber.
Location: FIV Wrath - Hangar.
Allies: [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Jorah zos Darnus"]
Enemies: [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Griet van Vliet"]

She hated masks. The metal sheath always felt like it was choking her, an irony considering it scrubbed the air clean. When offered the mask by the co-pilot, she had almost burned the device to slag. However, she said nothing and snatched the helmet from the woman. She was not invincible and could not survive the void of space without oxygen. ‘Best relent for now, tis only a tool’ she thought. And if Sieger thought it prudent then she would do the same.

The helmet restricted her vision slightly, much to her dismay. There was also a flashing iconography overlaying her vision, distracting and confusing her. Scanner or HUD, she only knew that it annoyed her, so she tapped the buttons on the side of the helmet until it disappeared. Despite these troubles, she had to concede that the helmet wasn’t such a burden and might even have value if it protected her face.

She followed close behind Sieger and the other Ren as they departed from the vessel. The spacewalk went without issue, and even seemed peaceful. Her flight through the void was soundless, save for her the hiss of her breath through the helmet’s fliter. She touched down on the exterior of the ship, igniting her lightsaber and plunging it down into the metal hull. She could not hear the blade as it cut her a path through, but she could feel the vibrations in the hilt. She stepped back gracefully as the air pressure within the vessel pushed the compromised metal outwards. She watched it slowly warp, slipping inside inside as soon as there was an opening large enough.

She felt the pull from the artificial gravity, giving into the tug and letting it aid in her reorientation. As her feet set upon the floor, she could feel a slight hum reverberating through the metal. ‘A generator?’ she thought. ‘No, this is from the force…’ She knew there were many force-users aboard, and powerful ones to boot, but there was something about the station itself. The vessel quivered with an almost supernatural power “Is this a temple?” mused Kaiah. “A space station? How quaint”.

She swung her blade in an arc, testing the weight and her form, before rejoining the Ren. She doubted their intrusion would go unnoticed or that their enemy would wait for long before striking. The lack of oxygen in their section, having been vented with their entrance, might deter them for a moment at least.

Robogeber · Feb 17, 2019

Allies: [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] | [member="Rae-Anna Ku"] | [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Sara Lee Jones"]
Enemies: [member="Atlas Drake"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"]
Objective: Weather the storm.
Location: FIV Pellaeon, Command Deck

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnW-8YpQpgQ

The Grand Admiral watched the young officer retort with a bemused grin, before allowing himself a deep chuckle. One which reverberated across the Pellaeon's bridge and communications, "You sell yourselves and your government too short." He continued, a smirk pursing his features. He then waited, turning to his console briefly, and watching further contacts sweep through and into view. Intriguing. Seemed the rabble was preparing itself. How unfortunate. The arrival of Admiral Stone to his conference however, was something of interest. The Grand Admiral offered the woman his attention, and listened to the accusation laid before him, raising an eyebrow, Rausgeber offered this in return. "You are unwise Admiral, to throw away the pretence of peace in favour of reckless action." He cautioned, his voice neutral in tone, but carrying a definitive edge, "We shall see how your tone changes, once we have bled you dry." he politely informed his adversary, "You know where to contact me. Good day."

The humanoid figure disappeared from the communications channel, and the droid reverted to the situation at hand. Looking at the sensor readings, Rausgeber eyed the oncoming data transmitted from the Wrath, as well as Tregessar's transfer command. The droid allowed a smile to purse his fake lips, as he was given orders to lead the vanguard, and only widened as the first onslaught of debris launched, the Grand Admiral leapt to action "Deploy the fighters!" The droid ordered, "Keep them and our bombers in reserve." he added, "Order all commands to prepare the anti-fighter net, target the projectiles and fighters." He looked around the bridge, before looking at his console again, and glaring at it. "Target designated, begin bombardment of this vessel, here, disrupt it." The Grand Admiral gestured to the Potentate-class destroyer, and the abnormal energy readings there. It concerned the droid, he knew the initiative must be taken, and the vessel declawed before it threatened his own flag, or worse, the Wrath and by extension Supreme Leader. "Admiral Korsine is to move," He moved his hand over the map, and gesturing to the charging Kathol-Squib-Tof fleet, "She is to engage at close range and bleed their support, try and slow the fleet." He then looked at the other commands, "All other vessels prioritise command vessels. Liquidate their leadership, and crush them."

The will of the Imperator was swiftly executed, and now, with orders given, and any form of diplomacy broken down, the Sixth Fleet engaged. The mighty guns of the Pellaeon thundered, its operators priming and reloading her mighty ordnance in an attempt to disarm the Potentate, before it could potentially stagger the First Order's defence, while the support craft attempted to try and mitigate the damage caused by the Squib's treacherous tactics. The first wave was effective, and heavy damage was sustained. But, a persistent effort by the anti-fighter fleet and their point defence would try to mitigate this. . From the rear of Rausgeber's fleet, and shooting through the swathe of corvettes, the long arm of Guardian Squadron, in the form of its Halberd Frigates, fired a wave of particle beams, streaking through the void, and unto the Potentate's mass. Steadily, the corvettes of Artemis Squadron split apart, loosening their formation, before charging to hunt down and the squib, and the forward assault units. Hell was upon them, but it would yet be Carlyle Rausgeber's to wreak.

Sixth Fleet Expeditionary Command

Imperator Command

Apex Squadron:

Menace Squadron

Guardian Squadron

Artemis Squadron

Janick Beauchamp · Feb 17, 2019

Location: Terminus orbit
Objective: Fight enemy fighters
Allies: ORC
Enemies: [member="Sara Lee Jones"]

"There's so many of them in this soup!" T-account is commenting, while covering for Janick pulling up.

As much as she tried to evade both the hardpoint and the shots fired by the enemy, it was a close shave: she narrowly missed being hit by either item. But she was so close to the enemy hardpoint that the enemy took the risk of inflicting a firepower kill by means of friendly fire in an attempt to fire at her. Now came the time to loop away from the cruiser and angle herself to let loose a volley at the radiator panels of a hostile craft. And not just about any hostile: the craft of the very hostile that braved not only the debris, but also the risk of friendly fire to fire at her. Once the worst of the debris have passed, then she could actually get the chance to fire at its radiator panels while remaining mindful of leading it. Then again, in this target-rich environment, she could always try to lock on to not only that specific craft, but on four other targets; this process could take time. And, before it could be completed, she fired a heavy repeater volley at where she would think the hostile would be a second or two later. Stay focused: I may not get so lucky next time, she thought, while desperately trying to avoid the mental blocks that befell her last time.

Shusugaunt Ghost (Janick's PC craft)
12 Lyulka-class elite fighters (standard configuration)

Veino Garn · Feb 17, 2019

Embassy
Goal: Counter-infiltrate
[member="Sol Stazi"] [member="Elaine Thul"]
[member="Isobel Nakano"] [member="Val Kordova"] [member="Dominic Craig"]
===============

Veino kicked back some as he leaned further against the wall and dragged over a crate. He couldn't remember what was in it. Bandages and medkits, probably. Until the Thul forces had shown up, he had been playing double duty. Logistics coordinator by day, Jensaarai operative at night. Which really meant he spent the day lugging around boxes and crates when people put them in the wrong spot. Which happened surprisingly often, often enough that he had once spent an entire day perched on the roof with electrobinocs watching the crates to see who moved them.

Turns out nobody had. His organizing system had just gotten disturbed and refiled incorrectly. Still, it rankled him and he had taken extra precautions since then. Normally, that meant something ominous and dangerous, but in this case just meant that Veino started each morning looking at the filing system to ensure it was the way it was the day before. Didn't stop him from being concerned, but that was a side effect of the whole dangerous game. Everything was suspicious.

He popped a piece of dried fruit in his mouth and leaned his head back against the wall for a moment, enjoying the stretch and moment of reprieve, but he opened one eye as the first one spoke. That accent was horrifying and it took him several moments after she finished speaking to actually process what she said, but the other one had already started speaking again, offering to let him look at the gun.

"Palpatine, you say?" He sat up with interest. "Sure, I'll take a look. Used to want to be an archaeologist before I realized I'd end up paying to work. Didn't make sense to me."

He held out his hand to take it. "Where'd you find it? And yeah, Twilight. They're the Alliance outfit here. Just stopping by real quick for supplies and repairs." His look glanced up at the massive ship that hung in the distance. "Don't worry. Soon as the refugees are cleared, we're packing up and leaving."

Veino picked out another piece of fruit, brushing away a piece of shell from a nut and flicking it to the ground. "Nice to meet the two of you anyway. Looks like we'll be the last ship off, if I judge the situation rightly. Pity too. We were doing good work here." A frown flickered across his face for a moment and he shrugged. The emotional state of the first one was a little too indefinite, but the second one came across clear as day. Momentary apprehension, then nothing, solid as the brick wall that Veino built around his own mind to keep the empath nature from overwhelming his brain, like it had once, long ago in the battle against the One Sith.

It took dedication, perseverance, and training to accomplish a feat like that. Most beings were already very open with their emotions, especially ones from rougher areas like the Terminus underworld. It was the starship fuel that helped keep them alive and they needed it. He let his gaze wander up above the walls for a moment, before turning to inspect the ancient weapon, assuming it was handed over.

"Impressive. Never seen one in this condition." He looked up. "You could make a lot selling this to a museum or collector. Twilight will get you a new one once they decided you're qualified."

He leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles, stretching them out in front, eating idly at the rations he'd offered around. Some species were naturally immune to the Force reading their presences, but she wasn't one of them. Nor was she Force sensitive, unless she was better at hiding it than he was, and he had spent his life honing that particular talent. Otherwise, it would have to be someone trained to resist the effect of the Force. He let it go for now but kept his senses tuned to any warnings or instincts that would alert him of something. If she was trained in resisting the Force, that meant a powerful organization who expected to go against Force users.

There weren't many of them that existed in the galaxy and none of them had a reason to be on Terminus, except the First Order. Peculiar that they would try the first attempt, which seemed the most logical explanation for the alleged asylum seeker suddenly turning violent. Perhaps it made sense though. Double bluff. Better odds of success and shifting attention.

Still, it wouldn't do any good to let these lot anywhere near sensitive information. Not that Twilight was insecure with that, but there was more uncertainy than he liked here, and it was better to be safe than sorry.

"I'm never against a long sob story, actually," Veino said after a few moments of inspecting a dried piece of fruit. He squinted at it for a few moments before setting it down. "Takes the mind of the questionable things that some people consider edible fruit."

Tiland Kortun · Feb 17, 2019

Shield of Light
[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Griet van Vliet"]
[member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Kaiah Nihl"] [member="Jorah zos Darnus"]
=============

"Indeed," was all the answer Tiland was able to muster before the message from Sieger Ren echoed through the mind. A smile twitched at his lips as he felt the presence grow close. "And they throw away the advantage of stealth as soon as they arrive." He tugged at his beard for a moment, considering. His own senses reached out just in time to receive a message and he pulled back within his mind.

"And young Griet has a plan," his voice rumbled slightly in the hangar as they all reconsidered their next option. Beside him, Vorhi drank from the gourd. Its smell tickled his nostrils and he gave a bland smile. "One that does not involve severing an arm to summon the dead this time, Vorhi." He had remembered that incident on Skor that had led to the mustered power of the Jedi channeling the Force to erect a barrier over the palace and surrounding areas to prevent its annihilation from a bombardment by the First Order fleet.

"She is engaging at a distance and attempting to lead them towards a location we desire. Master Starchaser, does this ship come equipped with ray shields? Or another place in which we can box the intruders in?"

His gnarled fingers drummed on the staff as he considered. "Their numbers are few, but they are strong. It would be unwise to risk a straight-forward engagement if it can be avoided." Tiland considered another moment. "They are confident, bold. Brazen, perhaps, and Vorhi is already stoking their fires. We must devise a way to use their strength against them."

If he was right, they had a momentous opportunity. "If that presence is what I have felt before, it may be the Supreme Ren himself. A valuable individual, far better alive than anything else. We may be able to negotiate if we can secure him."

He felt the feeling of Valor wrap itself into his mind from Coren and accepted it, letting it flow into his being. It would be a useful assist in the coming encounter, especially if the Supreme Ren was indeed present on the ship.

Monk he may be, but that didn't mean he nearly a thousand years of experience to put to work in this situation, and he had a deep, innate understanding of the Dark Side. After all, it was in his genetics.

Dominic Craig · Feb 18, 2019

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vR9RalfTj2I

The alarm klaxons sounded as Dominic Craig slipped through the sparsely empty halls. He already imagined he must have been one of the, if not the chief cause for this alert. Perfect. The stalking through the maintenance sector, gave Special Agent Craig time to think, and he came to the realisation that the armour was perhaps a little more than he anticipated. The armour it seemed, was made more so for spying on its occupant, than actually protecting them. The blinking error signal in the top right of his hud, was recognised nigh instantaneously, as one of a signal error. It didn't take two and two to notice, that he was on some dummy comms feed. Given the shear amount of panic caused by the alert, there had to be more than just the ten or so same voices sweeping through the complex, searching for him, impossibly low. And as such, Dominic intended to even the odds. Give Big Brother a nice little kick in the balls, courtesy of the FOSB, however ironic that juxtaposition was.

The former Galactic Alliance wasn't Dominic Craig's first rodeo. The Embassy, was his third or fourth to infiltrate, and if he was right about what he suspected was correct, and he was most certainly, he could sow terror and chaos with no tomorrow. Slipping through the damp basement, Dominic avoided the occasional civilian, making his or her way to the surface, as he continued his descent. His eyes focused upon the walls and the roof. He could see them become progressively more clogged with cables and wires. It was like slowly unravelling a ball of string, but as the walls became thicker with them, he knew he was getting real close. And it only took a matter of moments, a few back tracks was, until he reached it. Generator room. Right where he wanted to be But, there was also hostiles. Two soldiers, attired in the same armour, standing sentry at the door. Seemed this would require a little more tact than he was used to.

Special Agent Craig listened as one of them reported in. "Command, this is Alvor One, Two." The monotonous tone of the guard reported, "We have secured outside of the generator room entryway, sweeping now." But a few seconds later, the guard on the right turned, and entered into the room, weapon raised, while the initial communicator stood still. Dominic knew this was the chance he needed to take. Dominic stood tall, and sprinted forward. The guard outside raised his weapon, "Halt!" The command was met with a cascade of blaster bolts, as he sprayed him down. Dominic always shot first. The soldier sprawling to the ground, writhing in pain. A concise stomp to his head, concaved the armour and ended any prolonged suffering, or camera feed simultaneously. Now outside his destination, Dominic crouched to the left of the entry, and waited for the inevitable.

"Command, this is Alvor Two, I have heard a firefight," A voice barked, before the door unsealed, and reflexively the guard strode out, weapon primed, and ready. Surprise however took the alert sentry. Jumping up, Craig slammed his rifle into his head, sending the man sprawling backwards, and losing his rifle. The Special Agent, standing tall now terminated his quarry with extreme prejudice, firing a number of bursts into his helm, until it was a smoking, charred mess of metal and flesh. Time was now of the essence, pressing forward, Dominic entered the generator room. He recognised the sort of power device immediately. TG-492 commercial. Made by the Heilvough Corporation on Silus Van. Civilian generator packed with enough network reach to power a small star destroyer. Now, all his.

Dominic first and foremost, closed the door, before reaching down and picking up the now smoking soldiers rifle. Dutifully, Dominic stripped it of its ammunition, both in terms of power cells, and grenades, before approaching the maintainence console. Using his fingers, he pried open the interface panel, revealing a mess of wires. This'd be fun. Carefully screwing the cap off of the grenade, Craig began to entwine it with the wires, connecting it. The power surging through it, gave him a good ninety seconds, so he'd have to be quick. Dominic set up the power cells strategically, near key cords, and generator turbines, also taking the time to set up grenades around vulnerable hard points. Satisfied, Dominic moved out, and began pressing forth down the corridor. The explosion of the generator shook the building. Dominic shuddered, and fell, feeling a wave of explosive warmth washing over him. The lights now cut out, as the power was sapped from the building. Mission successful.

Captain August · Feb 18, 2019

Location: Heading to Basement
Allies: other housecarls
Enemy: [member="Dominic Craig"]
Equipment: Bio

A report came in he is in the basement, he smiled and muttered We have you know, young spy. He then ordered his housecarls, Stop anyone coming out of the basement area, all troops in the vicinity of a basement exit. Shoot anyone leaving. he then paused, and added Any troops down there, make your way to south corridor. Do not leave the south corridor, and keep yourself safe their. Now if he went south corridor, he would be spotted and killed, if he leaves the basement, he would be spotted and shot. He was now sealed in, sure he has been a pain and the pioneers will have to fix stuff. Though soon he will be facing the housecarls, and he had no way out.

As he head to the basement area, he addressed his housecarls.We are going in, I want two of our men on each door. No one comes out until I say otherwise. The rest of you room by room search, the south corridor is at the back of area, and leads nowhere, and will be last place we check. Now if you see something that is not one of us, it is him, just shoot him of he does not surrender. Keep you shields up, so your well protected. Then they all began to march down, soon one of them will find him. Then they had an FO spy to question or dissect, depending if he surrender or not.

He walked down, into basement area, despite the lights being out, he could see fine. Though he had no way getting any element of surprise on him, as this thing made a racket every time they walked. Though this meant he knew they where getting closer, and closer. He would also saw people heading to dead end of south corridor, which meant he knew that he was down here. He also know was possibly trapped down here, with no way out, but with gun fight.

Sibar Laval · Feb 18, 2019

Location: Terminus Underworld
Objective: Destroy these pests
Allies: FO, [member="Luther Ando"]
Enemies: ORC, [member="Yula Perl"] , [member="Dax Fyre"] , [member="Zak Amroth"]

Sibar watched as the annoying thug slowly roasted to a crisp from his flamethrower. At least that was supposed to happen until a sudden burst of light blinded the flametrooper. When Sibar could finally see again, all he saw where the man stood was a burning cloak. Sibar was upset to say the least, but at least for now the man had been dealt with. One of the stormtroopers under Sibar's command quickly rushed to Sibar's side to report urgent news. "Major Laval sir! We have intercepted a message! It's a call to arms, trying to have the people rise up to stop our mission." Sibar cursed but was quickly interrupted by the crashing of a window. "You have done a good job intercepting the message Sergeant. Get a few flametroopers and go investigate the crashing sound, I need to make a call. The Sergeant replied a simple 'Yes Sir!' before rushing off to get the flametroopers to torch the building Zak was currently in. Sibar reported to the Wrath in hopes to make a reinforcement call. "Major Sibar reporting, we have someone broadcasting a call to arms against our mission. While I do not doubt the capability of our troops some walker support would be wonderful. I'm sure the Wrath has some AT-AW's to spare no?" Sibar ended the transmission and took a long sigh. This likely wouldn't go well if those walkers didn't get here.

[member="Cyrus Tregessar"]

Luther Lewis · Feb 18, 2019

Agent Ike Parker – Codename: Firebrand
Undercity
[member="Yula Perl"] | [member="Sibar Laval"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Zak Amroth"]

The sight of a lightsaber made Ike nervous. Real nervous. One or both of these people were force users, most likely Yula, vis-à-vis her incredible escape. He had a deep-set wariness for the Jedi, Sith or any other of their ilk. It was an agent’s worse nightmare, a foe with the ability to crawl into his head and pluck any information they wanted. As his eyes slid off the saber and noticed the two turning towards him, he slipped into his Bureau training.

The key to tricking force users was to diguise the surface thoughts. A Ren had explained to him that an invasive push into the psyche was much more difficult than skimming the thoughts that rose to the top, thus the latter was more often employed. The information that could be gathered this way was variable. If the subject was focused on a particular task or memory, it could be difficult to glean motivation. And this is what Ike used to his advantage.

Knowing that it was far from the healthiest thing to do, Ike tapped into the horror of the past few moments. In his memory, Rog towered far above him, his machete was a massive curved blade that dripped blood. In his imagination, he could barely avoid the blade and the fire pressed in close all around.

It was effective, a little too effective. Chills ran down his spine and goosebumps rose from his skin. He still needed to convince himself that he was safe, so he distracted himself with talking to his new pair of unlikely companions. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you” Ike said to the Zeltron, letting out a sigh. “You didn’t know what was going on; I’d have done the same”. He winced as Yula placed a hand on his shoulder, hissing as a surge of pain before relaxing. “Thanks” he said. “No one knew you had force powers, explains how you escaped. You’d have been better facing off against Rog than me. I barely made it out with my life”. The orange glow reflected off his face as the warehouse burned down behind him.

Ike followed the pair onto the ship, his stomach fluttering with nerves. “Thanks for trusting me. I’ll stick behind you two, unless you intend on giving me something to defend myself with”.

Cathul Thuku · Feb 18, 2019

Location: Terminus system
Objective: Pew-pew from below
Allies: ORC [member="Atlas Drake"]
Enemies: FO [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] [member="Robogeber"]
Music: Truth, Despair and Hope

CIC, Compellor
Adm. Thuku, commanding

"Grand Admiral Rausgeber, this is Admiral Stone of the KRV Titan. In light of the apparent lack of local support for your police action here today, as well as your unlawful aggression upon a Jedi vessel flying under humanitarian colors, I'm afraid we must decline your most generous request. Any attempts to establish an Imperial blockade of the Terminus system will be defied, any further Imperial aggression on independent ships in the region will be considered a malicious act intended to incite economic and civil unrest. In short, Grand Admiral. Get the hell out of our way."

"New orders from his Republicness the great Stonedini! Full speed ahead like!" Adegabaydee shouted, while leading the Squib fleet into battle.

"We can't microjump: the enemy put interdictors across the system!" the Compellor's pilot complained.

"The enemy seems mostly focused on the Squibs and the Qektoth, admiral, but I feel we may be fired at in short order" the captain of the Potentate reported.

"Is that so? The enemy is in for an unpleasant surprise nonetheless: dive! We shall get underneath the enemy and have the Potentate cover our descent! The Excubitor shall be avenged!"

All pretense of diplomacy just, well, dropped and the battle began when the Ren made their opening move. Boarding the Shield of Light was an act of aggression that pushed the Squibs and the Qektoth, not to mention other units, to fire at the First Order. Yet Cyrus suffered the first casualties from the cloud of debris. If there was one thing Therapy Command knew about the First Order, however, it's that they seemed to fight mostly on a two-dimensional plane. And she knew from encounters against the latest generation of First Order capital ships on Skor that even the latest generation tended to focus the biggest guns or an otherwise significant fraction of their firepower on the dorsal arcs, while a smaller fraction of the firepower would be found on the ventral arc. The least mobile First Order ships couldn't easily turn their elevation around but the same held on her side, too. Which meant that, at the dive angle they were taking, they could fire at the aft quarter of the enemy and, from there, inflict mobility kills on enemy ships. And also fire at the reactor domes whenever applicable. But there was still the question of the fighters laden with heavy Deathballs, to the tune of two per craft, left to resolve, not to mention the torpedo bombers.

ANS Potentate

"We're taking fire: thank the Force for the dive" the chief engineer reported, while the Potentate was diving underneath the plane on which the enemy fleet was. "Our shields are down; we can't take another volley!" he shouted, almost as if panicking.

"There is only one thing left for us to do here! Divert power from all secondary batteries, from engines even, into the proton beam generator, and then fire at the Pellaeon!" the captain ordered, knowing that the Potentate would be unable to withstand another volley.

The Potentate took on a diving angle that was more shallow than the rest of the fleet, but still steep enough to evade the enemy heavy batteries on their dorsal arc. Plus the shallow dive angle was enough to project debris at the underside of the enemy fleet upon destruction, but also made the life of the rest of the fleet it was tasked to cover harder. But after a veritable hailstorm of fire made short work of the Potentate's shields, it was a simple matter to divert the power from the shield generator and the engines to get as much power out of the proton beam cannon. Yet, because the Potentate has endured such a high volume of fire from the enemy, it took damage in several areas: dorsal batteries, cargo holds, living quarters, and so on, so forth. It made the ship look like a half-eaten Emmental wedge but the proton beam cannon and its capacitor banks escaped the worst. Once it has acquired a firing solution for aiming the proton beam cannon at the Pellaeon's underside, the Potentate used any charge that was available to fire it. Even after accounting for any non-essential systems being powered down, the resulting volley was much more powerful than what would be expected of a regular single-reactor ignition, but not quite at the level of a full-power shot. As a humongous green beam arced out of the Potentate's bow towards the lumbering underside of the Pellaeon, the crew of the doomed ship made their final prayers.

"Run a comm traffic analysis, and then jam known FO frequencies!"

"Roger, roger" the communications officer acknowledged.

"Compellor, Sionoma, hit an enemy destroyer! All other ships, hit the enemy support ships, hit them hard!"

And, once the fleet was in position, it was Therapy Command's turn to unleash hell from below, with the Compellor firing at the Menace's reactor dome as well as at the exposed underside hangar. Meanwhile, the now-unshielded Ardent Defence would also have a sizeable volley inbound. Other than that, it seemed that cruisers were just as targeted as were the two destroyers, as well as a litany of escorts that formed the enemy point-defense grid. But, for now anyway, it was not yet time to engage the enemy battlecruisers. Maybe some debris from their smaller brethren could soften up the bigger ships, just that the timing wasn't ripe for that yet. They had to protect the Squibs and the Qektoth since they were playing an important role elsewhere on the battlefield. And yet there was a lot of sensor noise concentrated behind Carlyle's force, probably Cyrus in command, but all that Therapy Command could make out was the presence of a Predator, another Resurgent, another Star Destroyer, and a few escorts. But then there were fighters harassing the needle ships, too. She needed to do something, and not just have the escort ships use their point-defense guns to fire at enemy fighters...

"Torpedo bombers, launch energy torpedoes at the Halberds, fighters, protect the fleet, stand ready to drop bombs when possible!"

"Roger, roger"

The one advantage these torpedo bombers had over the rest of the fighter forces that joined the fray was that the torpedo bombers had energy torpedo launchers that allowed them to hit their flanks at long range thanks to their relativistic muzzle velocities. Split rather evenly into five groups, they made a pass at hurling energy torpedoes at the Halberds, while still being some distance away from their targets. Meanwhile, fighters were mostly arrayed in a screen that would cover every element of the All Flags Armada being deployed here, relentlessly chasing enemy TIEs that were causing trouble to the needle ships, knowing that they needed to keep hurling debris for them to be of any use. And a few squadrons took the lucky opportunity to drop heavy proton bombs at various enemy ships that were reckless enough to get too close to the Squib and Qektoth the fighters were tasked with screening, more or less evenly distributed among the enemy forward escorts. It was just the beginning, and in most cases the blast radius of these heavy proton bombs was bigger than the targets themselves.

Elaine Thul · Feb 18, 2019

Location: transitioning from Embassy to Underground gang warzone
Allies: ORC [member="Zak Amroth"] [member="Dax Fyre"] [member="Yula Perl"]
Enemies: [member="Sibar Laval"] [member="Luther Ando"]
Equipment: Dueling Armour, Lightsaber
Followers: Five Housecarl, Five Scouts, Platoon of Infantry, company of Militia, and about 40 gangers who don't like FO for burning them out.

Her troops transports had finally reached there destination, and started to dismount from the Triceratops. As she did, she saw a company of militia had managed to join her, as well as bout forty gang members. She turned to them first, I do not have the authority to pardon you, but after this is done. I will put a word in for you, also I will not stop you leaving there area. She then turned to them all, Now this is not going to be easy, the first order are highly trained soldiers. Though we do have advantages as well, you know the lay out of this area, better than they do. So we can set up ambushes, and cut them down. Though they will have more troops coming, if they think they can win. Though we can reinforce if needed, I rather avoid it. The plan is find the pyromaniacs, and talk him out carrying on failing that, kill his men, and send him packing with his posterior on fire. Some of them laughed as she said posterior, and then she continued. So we split up in teams, the heavy weapons stay back here, to help us retreat if need be. The Housecarls and scouts follow me, the rest you will be split into four groups, go down there, and keep talking to one another. Now when we find them report your postion, but keep out of range, we then encridle them, and then offer them a choice of lay down there weapons and run, or death. NOW MOVE OUT, AND MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU!

She then moved out with her ten men, the scouts moved in front the housecarls moved behind. She was in the middle, they would soon close on the stormtroopers postion. She had her pink lightsaber lite up, as they walk down into the unground.

Kyrel Ren · Feb 18, 2019

https://youtu.be/jMlB7d9Hng4

Location: FIV Wrath: Hanger
Allies: [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Kaiah Nihl"] [member="Jorah zos Darnus"]
Enemies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Tiland Kortun"] @Khane Porte [member="Griet van Vliet"] [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]
Equipment: Raiment of the Vigilant, Vader's Bane Lightsaber

Kyrel grinned underneath his mask in excitement, as the Supreme Leader felt his excitement in the Force, he answered Kyrel saying that they would begin now. They the Knights of Ren did not need big numbers to destroy an enemy, each Ren had been conditioned and trained to operate as a unit, either as one or as individuals alone they were a force to be reckoned with. A type of Dark Sider ultimately more unique than the Sith themselves, Kyrel already having his mask in place walked aboard the shuttle, waiting to see the Zabrak Youngling, and the female Knight of Ren come aboard, the chilling presence of Sieger Ren slowly making his way inside, his very will empowering them.

No words were spoken as the shuttle slowly made it's way out of the hanger, the shuttle rumbled as Kyrel stood, his boots sealed to the floor as silence permeated the air, they were prepared, ready, some would even say excitedly. They were prepared to face off against the likes of the Jedi, and were capable. But first they would need to puncture the shield that surrounded the space station of a Temple. With the field disruptor activated, the craft managed to enter, but knowing they had little time to move, Sieger summoned them with their helmets in place, and in line the Ren had followed them towards the hull of the craft, letting the Force and that of gravity do it's thing.

With the short spacewalk pulling off without a hitch. Kyrel made his way to the hull, pulling Vader's Bane from his belt via the Force, he activated the crimson blade. With a sharp hum the blade connected to the hull, cutting it open slowly and creating a circular entrance, watching for the moment to see the strike team of Knights, as well as the Supreme Leader, do the same himself, before slowly dropping down to the inside, the red cape billowing before finally dropping over him. Reaching out to feel the light side of the Force, he responded in tandem with the Supreme Leader to send a wave of darkness, to emphasize that the Ren were there, for one single mission. To kill all in their path.

With Kyrel watching as he stuck close to the rest of the Knights, he looked to the Supreme Leader, he spoke as if asking for permission. "Shall I go after the younglings my lord?" He said keeping Vader's Bane firmly in his grasp, sensing that their enemies knew they were here, grinning from ear to ear drinking in their fear.

Vorhi Alestrani · Feb 19, 2019

Location: Within. Without.
Objective: Iiiiit's showtime!
Friends: [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Griet van Vliet"] with additional help from...Vorhi Alestrani and Vorhi Alestrani?
Dancing partners: [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Kaiah Nihl"] [member="Jorah zos Darnus"]

Weapons: a surprisingly hardy gourd on a red rope, full of something very dangerous. Some very nice silk robes. And a little help from his friends.

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Yf0K4GfySw[/youtube]

Near the hangar.

The blind monk nodded slightly at Tilund's words. "Nah, that's very much a trick you can only do once," he said thoughtfully. "But, I wouldn't be much of a student if I didn't learn from my rough days...." he sipped again, continuing to trudge forward. The remainder was spent quiet. Not silent, but quiet. Sipping the green ichor. Moving slowly. Staying with the group. Soon, they'd abide with Griet's tactic. It would definitely cause a stir. As would many others.

Still, they shoudl engage soon enough. After all, the knights of Ren wanted a fight....

In a meditation chamber

The blind monk grinned, looking into a small bowl, smoking from a thin pipe. This was good. A simple trick, really. But simple was all that was needed. The knights of Ren came to fight, and as foreseen, the darkness would meet the light. But would they find balance. The weakest were already evacuating. Those unable to defend themselves would not be present to bear witness. The blind man swirled the boil, a thin green mist appearing from it as it cleared to show one image, and then another. He then adjusted a small crystal next to him, connecting one wire to another. He coughed. Not much time. Still, it would have to do. He hoped.

In the halls

The blind monk smiled at a young padawan as he continued escorting the others. "Keep moving. We need to move quickly," he said, smiling a bit and encouraging the younglings and civilians towards the escape pods.

One of the padawans, a near human obviously in adolescence, stood and looked at the monk. "Shouldn't we defend the ship?"

The blind man shook his head. "There are those there without the force to guide them. They will need you more than any ship will," he said with a smile. "You must lend them your strength, against the shadows."

Soon, the darkness would come. Soon, he would have to engage it. The blind monk felt a shiver, down both his arms. Time enough yet, though. even with his attention....divided, this would work. Or it wouldn't. Only one way to know, or three....

Micah tol Powl · Feb 19, 2019

Supreme Leader's Page Boy
Location: FIV Wrath
Allies: [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Kaiah Nihl"]
Equipment: Boarding Armor | Crossguard Lightsaber
Engaging: None, currently

[ jorah's theme ]

The Jedi ship was... different from what he had imagined.

The internal architecture was quite different from the severe utilitarian approach taken with First Order vessels. It seemed more... artistic, as it were. As the boy trailed along behind the Supreme Leader's entourage, the young Zabrak found his eyes wandering. His head turned to peer down the passageways and corridors of the ship, only to discover that he was falling behind.

As he started to jog to catch up with the Supreme Leader, the hallway seemed to move.

Time and perception split from each other. The walls appeared to be melting, as a sensation of vertigo kicked in. The boy staggered, collapsing against the side of the corridor as he found his sense of up, down, or sideways had all gone awry. In place of one corridor, he seemed to see three. Or four.

Dropped to his knees, a primitive growl seemed to radiate from out of the Takodana native. A deep seated anger was stroked by the confusion that detracted him from his singular purpose. Even as the world melted away. Even as his senses started to leave him, the boy was aware of one thing.

The Order is mother. The Order is father.

The Order is the Supreme Leader.

That singular purpose fueled the will to press forward. Rising up from the deck, the boy shuttered forward as though he were one of the Korriban undead. His senses betraying him, but his will to serve the Supreme Leader fueling him onward.

Sol Stazi · Feb 19, 2019

Location: Old Embassy Complex
Objective: They're Coming Out of the Walls
Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Captain August "] | [member="Veino Garn"]
Enemies: The First Order - [member="Dominic Craig"] (nearby) | [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Val Kordova"]
Equipment: Blast Vest, A320 Rifle, SSK-7 Heavy Blaster, Alliance Adjudicator, Vibroknife

SUBLEVELS

EMBASSY COMPLEX

August rounded a blacked out corridor to come face to face with Sol and his four man fireteam, all equipped with infrared goggles.

"What the sacred feth is going on down here?" the duros hissed, his modified rifle primed and set to kill.

The Thul's housecarl gave him a brief situation report, which only deepened the scowl on his face. Something had felt off about that junkie, but he had trusted that whatever his motivations the situation was neutralized. Come to find out, an enemy agent was wreaking havoc in his base and two of his men were already down. Worse than that, they were vulnerable.

"Is communication outside the base locked down?" he asked, August nodded tersely in reply, "Good. Get a repair team down here, we need to get the power grid up and running now. There's only two egress routes from the generators, out the main hangars or back the way he came. You've got more men, you take the hangars. I'll circle back and link up with Garn, comm me if you make contact."

Captain Stazi didn't wait for a reply, he was already in motion. It was disorienting moving with night vision engaged, but Sol had been doing this for a long time. He compensated for the hazy details and the simplified geometry, sweeping his weapon from one end of the sublevel corridor to the next as he made his brisk yet measured tactical advance. While he and his team were moving, the duros cycled through frequencies on his comm link. It was a good thing when Major Sunfell had given him the personal frequency for [member="Veino Garn"], he hadn't deleted it out of spite after all.

"Garn, come in. This is Stazi, do you read?" the signal was bound to be a little choppy what with the jamming interference, but frequencies within the perimeter of the embassy were for now still mostly operational, "Don't react to what I'm about to tell you. We have a saboteur. There's no telling if he is working alone or if he has accomplices. I need you to isolate the prospects for now, but keep em in the dark about it."

Progflaw99 · Feb 19, 2019

Location: System, Terminus

Objective: Hunt
Allies: The First Order | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Jorah zos Darnus"] | [member="Kaiah Nihl"]

Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition | [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"]

'Promises are made to be kept, little lord of Ren'

Little more than an echo drowned out by the raging inferno within Sieger's mind. There was chaos, but focus. Focus unbroken by the derision in the anonymous voice. Stoking the flames of their own crusade, Sieger began distributing a new wellspring of energy to those loyal Knights at his side. Drive them he did not, merely amplify what broiled beneath the surface. Sieger and his Knights of Ren had cracked the hard shell of the vessel and were now eager to get to the juicy meat inside.

The compartment they occupied had been vented of oxygen though Sieger didn't expect that to last for long. In a stroke of luck, or bad luck depending on who you were, the section of corridor breached had been empty. A low, foreign snarl escaped Sieger's lips as he stepped up to one set of blast doors and raised a hand to the control panel. Closing his eyes he drew from the well of darkness swirling about him. Fingers in contact, Sieger envisioned what lay beyond the panel, eyes flicking back and forth behind their lids as he forced his way through the circuitry, tapping into the complexities of the door system layer by layer. Power. Control. Remote Access. Emergency Protocol. All angles that needed to be peeled away before he would be able to overcome the control mechanisms.

"Be ready." he warned those behind him. They would need to move hard and fast to overcome the rush of air as it sought escape from the breached hull. Perhaps the only saving grace was that the holes they'd bored for entry were much smaller than the corridor was in size - enough that they should be able to enter the pressurized veins of the ship. Distracted from his surroundings as he methodically pried at the internals of the door and locking mechanisms Sieger was unable to sense the brewing storm assaulting the boy at his side, only becoming aware that something had transpired as he drew back - door prepared to be cast open. "Guard yourselves!" the Supreme Leader sneered as the boy stumbled towards his feet. The boy seemed driven, red hot anger driving him forward step by step as it burned slowly through the fog assailing him. *If he is strong, he will persevere.*

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, a wide smile stretched across Sieger's lips as Kyrel Ren voiced his enthusiasm. Holding a hand up, saber in the other, Sieger responded as he issued a final command before opening the blast doors and dashing forward into the maw that greeted them. "Capture the younglings. As for the rest.. Kill them. Kill them all."

With a roar and a shout, Sieger leapt forward into the newly opened partition. Behind the Knights of Ren and their leader the blast doors would snap shut, resealing the compartment - magnetic lock boots disengaging as they forged into combat. Violent hums and cracks of energy erupted as Sieger set his sights on the first figure ahead. A Jedi by the looks of him, trademark robes adorning his shoulders. His assumption was made correct as the brilliant blue blade ignited and rose to meet Sieger's own of crimson. Splashes of light filled the corridor, behind the Jedi were those he sought to protect, a small clutter of what appeared to be padawans.

Killing children had never been an aim of Sieger's - but these were markedly not. Naive, indoctrinated by the Jedi and their ways. Too late for them. Younglings as it were could be molded, cast off from their current course and taught new truths. The older ones, the ones who had already claimed the title of padawan were a lost cause. These he would see to it that they never lifted a finger against the First Order or the Knights of Ren again.

Violent strike after strike assailed the Jedi before Sieger, each one forcing the defender backwards. Overwhelming power, intangible speed, a malevolence the man had never seen nor ever would again. Just like that Sieger's crimson blade found itself plunged into his chest. A quiet gasp the only exclamation as life flooded from his body. Behind him, several of the padawans raised their own sabers, eyes filled with frustration and shock at what fate had just befallen the Jedi now prostrate before Sieger. With a sly grin, Sieger addressed them. "I admire your resilience, your drive for life - but it won't save you."

Raising a gnarled hand towards the cluster of padawans Sieger released his grip on his saber. Miraculously, it remained in place, hovering by power of the mind. With his newly free hand Sieger reached to the bulkhead and with inhuman strength tore a panel free revealing a power conduit. With a maniacal shout he gripped the cabling and pulled - absorbing the energy and channeling it through his body with the aid of the Force and sending it arcing violently towards them. Those present at command consoles would notice the sudden surge of power routing through the revealed conduit. "Join your masters - and die!"

Planet at the Edge of the Verse | Rebellion of Hex G-50

Cyberjunk

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To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before

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Fortunate Son

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Ex-Soldier | Ex-Spy | Doctor

Admiral, Therapy Command

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The World Eater

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