Invasion Rage Awakened (TSE Invasion of NIO Held Bastion & PL-40112-CE-021105)

[Zaavik Perl]

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「ATTITUDE」​

Zaavik moved again to parry the strike, feet shifting and arms arcing to guide his saber toward the strikes. Blue skidded against green, halting the first, but not stopping the tip of the blue to carve slightly into his hip. "Kuron!" A pained expletive growled from a deep, primal depth in his vocal folds. His stance faltered on that side momentarily before a sudden flourish and compensating readjustment put him back in place. Red spattered visage regarded Aradia with a pained grimace. The kind of grimace only incinerated nerve-endings could achieve.

"If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have bothered trying to talk to you in the first place," he said. Two opportunities to kill her had come and gone before this third meeting. Zaavik chose mercy both times, even allowing her to flee the very heart of the Core in her own ship. Did that mean nothing to her? Or was she so blind with rage she hadn't even considered reflecting? Zaavik shoved these considerations out of his mind. If there was any hope of a breakthrough, he had to speak. As long as she continued the assault, he wouldn't be able to do that effectively.

His eyes darted around in an erratic scan for a solution. Improvisation was largely responsible for the reason he was still alive. Today would probably no exception. A door control was just barely visible over he shoulder, past the reddish threads that hung over it. A moment of focus, and suddenly Zaavik could feel the door panel's electrical pulse as he reached through the force. On the other side, that pulse echoed out into a chamber much larger than the linen closet he'd only narrowly escaped from.

An idea flickered to life in his head.

The Shadow moved forward, throwing wild and ferocious strikes toward Aradia with either blade. Buzz, sizzle, pop, all deflected. He could see the blue moving for his head in a horizontal strike just before it happened as if he pulled the next move from her mind. He dipped low, his left foot extending and sliding across the ground beside her. A bend of his knee pulled him in as he ducked beneath the strike and strafe alongside her to maneuver behind. Zaavik spun with his momentum, his heel kicking the unsecured door panel and triggering it to open.

Boot shifted flat against the wall, pushing off to meet her oncoming attack with added force. When the force of his insistent parrying created some breathing room, he slipped back through the threshold. With two swings, his saber carved into precise locations along the door frame, sending sparks and smoke flooding into the threshold and he faded into the obscurity of the greyish screen of wisps and flickers.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Gear: Elpsis' Armour, Inferno, Uproar Blaster, Hold-out Bolter, Shotgun, Wrist Ion Paddle Beamer, Revolver, Grenades.
Felix Astermo

The sudden firestorm struck the Sith Lord, pushing him back. Smoke rose from his robe-covered form as he arose, his golden mask staring at her impassively. Words left his lips. They apparently constituted an acknowledgement that she represented a threat. Still, Elpsis did not respond and remained wary. She had not faced a foe who used alchemy and sorcery in the manner of this Sith before. Moreover, he seemed to possess elemental gifts similar to her own, though they were less focused on fire.

Elemental warriors were fairly common in Firemane's orbit, as the Kerrigan-Alcori family business recruited heavily among the Eldorai and their subraces, among whom elemental talents a common trait of Forcewielders. They were less common among Jedi and Sith, but that made someone who could combine such skills with dark sorcery particularly dangerous.

His response was not long in coming. She had needed a moment after turning the air aflame. Some sweat dripped down her face and back. At least her hearing was no longer being assailed, though the buzzing remained. But then she tensed when she felt the tunnel's heat being siphoned away. In the face of the biting cold, her she felt diminished and a bit winded. Ier inner flame burnt fainter.

She winced as the air around her grew colder with every moment. Her breath seemed to frost inside her helmet and she shivered in the biting cold, despite her armour. Her limbs felt heavier and more sluggish. She drew upon the fire inside her, fighting against the cold that sought to engulf her. Here and there, frost manifested on the ground or on the walls.

Power comes from the breath. She remembered something a venerable Qadiri fire mage had told her once. The thing was, the alchemist was manipulating the tunnel's heat, not Elpsis' body heat. Having the right environment was obviously beneficial. One would not try to use cryomancy on Mustafar, or summon fire in a snowstorm on Hoth or when it was pouring with rain. But she drew most of her power from the flame inside her, rather than the environment.

However, he could try to use her weakness to drain her, too. Her will manifested a powerful blast of telekinetic energy. It came from behind the Sith, aiming to slam into his back and legs with brutal force. It was not focused on throwing him across the tunnel, but hitting him hard and ideally breaking bones. Him losing his concentration would also suffice.

 

[Darth Daiara]

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed

Spoiler: The Story

PRELUDE
Before the Second Bastionfall....

「A PATTERN HERE I NEED TO SEE」

A Sith turned from the dark is a life saved and an enemy defeated. Jedi by circumstance, altruist by choice, Zaavik felt it was his duty to preserve life. No matter how vain or risky the effort, he would do what he believed he must. Should it be the death of him, at least he died on his feet with good in his heart and soul. The prospect did not frighten him as much as it once had.

How could nothingness possibly be worse than this?

The Shadow skulked across the hangar, making a beeline towards a fighter vessel. The ladder to the cockpit clanked under his footfalls, ascending closer with every step. A voice called out from behind him, resonating off the walls of the empty hangar and into his ears, causing him to freeze.

"Zaavik!?" The voice of Ryv was unmistakable. "You missed the brief, I- What are you doing?"

Zaavik sighed. Busted. "Leaving," he replied plainly, taking another step on the ladder.

"Cold feet, huh? Cmon, let's talk about this, no need to go deserting us."

"No, it's not that. I uh-" Zaavik dropped off the ladder, boots smacking into the durasteel flooring beneath. A turn was made to face Ryv, a few steps forward made to meet him. "There's something I gotta do. I don't really know how, or why, but I can feel it. The Force is pulling me somewhere, the call is-" He paused, looking down to the floor with an odd camber to his lips before looking back up to his fellow Jedi. "It's really loud, Ryv. I can't ignore it."

The Sword of the Jedi made a face, placing a hand on his hip with an inquistive raise of his brow. "Something, huh?" His tone was laden with more curiosity than doubt. "What's this something, then?"

"Saving a life."

No deception emanated from Zaavik to Ryv's empathic sense. The Kiffar let out a breath and smirked slightly. "Fine, I'll cover for you. Just don't get in over your head, okay?"

"When do I ever?"

Ryv blinked in silence, a blank stare regarding the Zeltron with disbelief.

Zaavik smirked, chuckling at his own joke. "I'll be fine," he insisted, hastily climbing back up the ladder and climbing into the cockpit. Certainty in his statement was a facade, for the Knight truly didn't know what to expect. A certain dread was hidden behind the pull the Force assaulted him with. It was better not to dwell on those feelings, anyhow. "Thanks," he offered as he slid the pilot's helmet over his head and looked down to Ryv.

The Kiffar nodded in silence, arms moving to cross over his chest. Engined blared as the vessel started up. Artificial winds danced wildly in all directions as the fighter slowly raised from the floor before tearing forward through the atmospheric shield of the hanger. Zaavik disappeared as a spec against the endless void of space.


FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」

"No entry, Jedi." A Togrutan Imperial Knight rebuked Zaavik's request with clear contempt. This entrance to the Redoubt was guarded only by the Knight and an accompanying Stormtrooper. Other forces were scrambling to prep defenses and take positions, leaving the actual present security rather lacking.

"Listen, man, I'm on your side, I'm just trying to-"

"We said no entry," the Stormtrooper helmet vocoder distorted voice doubled down with his Imperial Knight comrade.

"You forget, we are only allies against the Sith. You are not entitled to our facilities, we are not friends."

Zaavik threw his hands up halfway and sighed with feigned defeat. "Yeah, whatever," he replied with a facade of concession. He took a step backward, turned his back half to them, and pulled out his commlink, pretending to make a call. Both guards eased up, thinking the Shadow had given up. Cybernetic hand brought the comm up to his lips as his other hand made a sneaky wave at his side, index and little finger flicking up and down.

"You will let me into the redoubt," he spoke firmly.

The Stormtrooper's posture went slack. "I will let him into the Redoubt."

"What?"

The guard turned and tapped at the door control, punching in a code that caused the massive door panels to begin to slide open with a loud groaning.

"'The hell are you doing?"

Zaavik crept up alongside the Trooper and quickly reached forward to switch his blaster to stun. "Blast him," he commanded calmly.

A hiss of white plasma erupted from the Imperial Knight's saber hilt as the realization took over. The first shot was parried, the magnetic containment field of the saber sending it flying wildly into the air. The second shot found purchase, slipping past the saber and slamming into the Knight's gut, sending him crumpling to the ground unconscious. The effectiveness of New Imperial Troopers proving once again capable of overcoming the lightsaber.

Zaavik scoffed smugly. "Veina," queen, he quipped as he looked down at the Togruta. The Jedi offered a congratulatory pat on the shoulder, the metal of his prosthetic clattering against plastoid shoulder pauldrons. "Good job. Take a nap, huh? You've earned it."

"You got it, boss!" The Stormtroopers knees gave as he folded to the floor. Armor clacked and clamored against itself, followed by the hollow thud of helmet onto concrete. Snoring echoed inside the hollow shell, vocoding outward as a digitized static. A long step over the two unconscious guards heralded his waltz through the foyer of the Redoubt.

Corellian Coin rolled around between his fingers. Ethereal screams, wails, and other horrible sounds of the past echoed through the halls, courtesy of the coin's imprint. It was nothing short of gutwrenching, but he had no choice other than to endure. The echoes and visions carved a clairvoyant path toward his intent, a macabre road for his likely vain quest.

Staircase, corridor, left turn, corridor, right turn, stairs again. The former Sith Academy had looked big, but on the inside, the scale was even more impressive. Remnants of Sith iconography still lingered, the efforts to chip them away in favor of the Imperial Codex still ongoing. It was no wonder it had taken so long, he'd felt as if he'd walked miles already.

Every new scream he heard, every new cry, every new spatter of blood he saw evoked a unique grimace all their own. He'd heard about it, but the first-hand recollections were a lot worse than he thought. Zaavik was still in a coma when this all went down. He wouldn't have ever imagined the ordeal to be this horrific. Yet, somehow, it didn't feel wrong.

Another corridor, this time the coin granted him the sound of laughter. A familiar voice that reverberated from father ahead, echoing in a repetitive rhythm further and further down the hallway. Pace increased, pointed boots slogging against the tiles with their own impactful reiteration off the hard interior walls.

Disfigured digits lightly caressed a durasteel door. Eyelids closed, opposite hand clenching the coin as he focused internally. In the back of his mind's eye, red-hued locks danced against momentum through the threshold. The coin was practically humming, a subtle vibration buzzing in the center of his palm.

This was it.

Fingers slid down to the door control. A pulse through the force willed the mechanisms to clear, forcing the door to hiss open and click at the apex of it coming ajar. Slowly he walked forward, what was once a significant space had been reduced to a linen closet. Towels, vestments, rags, curtains, and the like. It could have been much worse, they had to store the dismantled Sith Iconography somewhere, or at least, whatever they couldn't burn.

Situating himself in the center of the room, Zaavik turned to face the door and dropped slowly to his knees. He sat on his feet and placed the coin in front of him. Both fists retreated to his knees as his eyes closed. A deep breath would slip him into a light meditative trance.

She would be here, he was certain.

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed

Aradia had been removed from the front line. The order had been as clear as day, yet when the call for Bastion came to life... She broke her master's orders and answered. Kaalia would never understand.

She had to be there.



Her footsteps echoed through the familiar hall, goosebumps prickling over her skin. The siege of Bastion rang on beyond these now insignificant walls, but she did not yet join. Something drew her forward-- an intangible string pulling tight at her chest.

No one had survived the Imperial's attack. She knew that. Yet every corner she turned, her eyes searched, almost desperate for a lock of blonde hair-- a familiar dimple. Someone. Anyone.

Bastion Academy had been purged.

Tula had not survived.

She stopped short at juncture, a Fel tapestry hanging where an Empire one had once resided. She could see its faint outline, the dirt stain refusing to let the past fade. She let out a pained hiss. Fire erupted across the imperial symbol. She walked onwards, her once timid steps gaining intention.

Did they really think they could erase her with no consequence?

Ideas bubbled forward, smothering the pinching that built in her tear ducts. She had been in enough wars to know that pure brute would not win this school back alone. She had to--

She stopped short, a familiar set of doors appearing before her. In her brooding, she had not paid attention to where her feet had taken her. The path had been instinctual. Habit. She swallowed hard, the pinching in her tear ducts redoubling as she stared at her old dorm door.

Her hand raised before her, moving as if it were in a dream as it entered the old code.

The doors swished open.

Cold shock bit through her like poison.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」

Visions of hatred and desperation flooded over his mind in dreamlike watercolors as he meditated. Pain echoed from the coin in front of him, he could feel it like it was his own. The screaming was loud enough to hurt his ears. Gurgling in the throat, he couldn't breathe. Something tightened his grip, not letting him leave this meditative state. Blood, the blood was everywhere, a growing pool of ichor crimson.

She died here. Through her own eyes, he could only watch.

The hissing of a door jolted him from his meditation at the very moment she'd slipped away in the vision. An invisible smog of force energy flooded the tension laden atmosphere as their eyes met. Alive and well despite what he'd seen, there she was. Zaavik gasped in both shock and vital need, he could not breathe during that forced recollection. The weight of the force around them proved too much for the old Corellian Token. Metal cracked, small grains of shrapnel bouncing off the floor with a high pitch ding. The half-sundered coin flipped into the air from the ground.

Zaavik's hand flung forward, fumbling around with the coin for a brief moment before snatching it from the air. His other hand raised slowly, fingers extended and palm facing out pacifistically. With one fluid motion he stood up slowly from his knees, his feet planting firmly against the ground. Token deposited into his jacket pocket, and then the same hand mimicked the non-aggressive gesture of the other.

"Relax," he implored softly. "I'm not to here to hurt you or anything, I just want to talk, that's all." Either hand dropped to his side once he felt he'd made his intentions clear. "I know you must be feeling a lot right now," he began, trying to take the empathy approach. He couldn't help but immediately the second guess whether or not that was the right approach. He made a face, shaking his head to himself. "Look, fuck it, whatever, just hear me out, okay?" A turbolaser smacking into Ravelin in the near-distance shook the Fel Redoubt. "While we still have the opportunity?"

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed


How.

Her eyes screamed the question as the coin flipped through the air. It hit flesh, the noise muted but resounding as he caught and pocketed it. "You," she breathed, meeting his gaze.

Feeling a lot? That was one way to to put it. She stumbled a step back, at first expecting another attack. It was the shock alone that stopped her from drawing her saber, though the hatred she possessed for her growing arch enemy flared in her nostrils.

"Are you stalking me?" She accused, flabbergastion next to follow. He was in her old room. And it-- Her attention tore to its dusty shelves, pain lashing through her-- it had been reduced to nothing more than a linen closet. Her fury turned back on him. She raised her hand, her fingers clenched. A pulse of the force slammed into him. She stepped in, the door closing behind her as she bore him down.

"What. Are you doing. In my room?" She demanded. A telekinetic grip started to clench down on his throat.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」




The Jedi's head crept backward forcefully as the invisible grip tightened incorporeal fingers around his throat. Facial features twitched initially, but his resolve steeled and his regard remained covered by a convincing illusion of being unphased. "Ma'am, this is a linen closet," his wispy, air deprived vocalizations managed to quip in facetious contrary through the invisible restraint. Probably not a good time for jokes, the little voice of reason in his head scolded. A real shame too, as his wit had just formulated a pun involving 'breathtaking'.

"The coin," he explained. "I followed what it offered." A small cough rasped out of his airway. His hand slowly crept down to the saber on his belt, hovering over it with a twitching finger. "I told you, I'm just here to talk. I've seen what happened here, it showed me." His eyes narrowed as he drew a large breath laboriously through her attempt as suffocation, only causing the grip to grow tighter.

"Let me go," he rasped dryly. "I told you, you're not in any danger," yet "I'm not here to hurt you," unless I have to. It was always the omitted bits that were the most important. A universal rule between Jedi and Sith. There never had been any such thing as total honesty, and especially not between the faces of the Force's spiritual coin. A gulp struggled down his throat. "I don't blame you if you don't trust me, but I've let you go twice, haven't I?"

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed


The quip earned him a rattling, one which his only his talking halted. She seemed to teeter in that moment, a crazied edge to her eyes as the urge to squeeeze rocked her. And there it was again. The hunger. It was growing less frightening, if only cause the Jedi served as something more pressing to mistrust.

"-- I've seen what happened here, it showed me."

Shock rippled over her features. The grip released him. He was left to gasp at the gifted air, the sithling staring skeptically at his cornered form. "What could you possibly have to say to me?" She uttered, distaste coating every word.

He was the enemy. His kind murdered her kind relentlessly. Everything she had known, they had stolen from her grasp. She was a kid, nearly purged for religious wars and deeds that were not her own. And he owned it.

They bore each other's scars. They were two sides of that same coin and they could never be made to see eye to eye. That was not how physics worked. The mention of what he had seen left her needing to know more. For a moment, she'd bite.

"You have thirty seconds."

Her saber jumped into her palm, the blue hue lighting up the room. Jedi. It was an embarrassing punishment in response to the saber he had taken from her. Wouldn't it be appropriate if she killed him with it in turn? She pointed it at his chest.

"No jedi tricks."

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「FIVE SECONDS」

A quiet, stifled gasp quietly compensated for the lack of air in his lungs. Chest and shoulders rose with each subsequent breath in an exaggerated fashion. "Foitan banas," fuck's sake, he bleated as he rubbed his throat with his right hand.

Five seconds had passed.

"Thirty seconds?" Zaavik scoffed, upper lip curling with vexation. "This is gonna take a lot longer than thirty seconds, you're just gonna have to deal with that."

Five more seconds passed.

He sighed. No preparations as to what he was going to say had been made prior. This entire endeavor had been spontaneous, and he was playing it by ear for better or worse. "No tricks," he reassured begrudgingly. He showed his hands, turning them once over and them back, keeping them where she could see them. "You're torn up about what happened here, it doesn't take an empath to figure it out. I get it, I really do. I've been there too, believe it or not. Not just losing everyone, but to death's door as well."

Five seconds left.

"The residual echoes gave me a vision; I saw you die here, in the courtyard, nearly drowning in your own blood. I don't know how you're still here-"

Time's up.

"But I know it wasn't the work of any Sith."

Zaavik had been counting the seconds in his head, he was ready to snap his hand down to his saber if he had to. Yet, still he continued regardless.

"I know you don't want to let anything like that happen again. Not even just to yourself, either. But you're on the wrong path. The Sith do that kind of shit on a planetary scale on a near-constant basis. I can see the good in you, you mean well, but you're misguided."

There was a pause, Zaavik gauging the atmosphere before his next sentiment.

"I came here because I can help you."

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed


Her heart pulsed in her ear, the tip of her saber subtly wavering with each internal thump thump thump. That wasn't what she was expecting to hear. Her thoughts raced, her eyes searching for a sign of mockery. The boy was as serious as stone, an earnest edge to him imploration. He saw her. It disarmed her.

Was this an apology?

The saber lowered a centimeter, her chest puffing in distress as he painted a picture of that day. She didn't like to think about her death. She didn't like that he knew about it. Standing before him, she felt vulnerable. Raw.

Confused.

It distracted her from an off set of words, her gaze boring into him-- Hungry for recognition, desperate to feel whole again. Thirty seconds had come and gone, and he still held her attention.

"How?" She asked, her voice tight and mistrusting.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」




Getting this far was unexpected. Every expectation was that she'd try to strike him down the moment he finished speaking. At least he was getting somewhere. It was a much better start than he could have realistically hoped for. Though, he was beginning to understand that the closer he got, the thinner the tightrope would get. Unfortunately, he didn't have time for anything other than a full send. Beyond the walls of the redoubt, the battle raged indifferent to this encounter. Every breath taken in silence was time wasted.

"You're in pain. Desperate to scrub a layer of soot from your skin that won't wash away. Hate won't be a solvent, it'll only bring you more suffering. I know what happened was wrong, horrible, but we can do our damndest no make sure nothing like it ever happens again. You don't trust me, I know, and to be honest, I'm not exactly your biggest fan either."

Zaavik slowly offered out his hand. Durasteel-cortosis alloy glittering with a weathered sheen beneath the artificial light overhead.

"But it's my duty to help you. Not just as a Jedi, but as someone who's been exactly where you are. That wound will fester forever, it's not something you can just forget, but you can soothe it. It would be unfair and dishonest to try to convince you otherwise. We can't ever make it right, but we can do right by you. Come with me, leave the Sith behind, open your eyes to a better path. You can make a difference this way, a crusade for vengeance isn't going to save anyone, it's only going to eat you up inside."

"Isn't it already?"

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed

He had her. He really did. His words hit feelings she had never been able to give names to. He said it like it was. He validated her, no excuses. No blame on her.

Goosebumps speckled up her arms, a surreal prick of emotions hitting her tear ducts. For a moment, it felt okay. To feel. To hurt. It was horrible. It was wrong! And she deserved to hear it-- she deserved-

"Come with me, leave the Sith behind,--"

Her expression froze, the emotions bleeding from the planes of her face. And that was the exact moment everything he had to say meant diddly chit.

"You're trying to recruit me," she said, a dangerous edge to the emotionless statement. She beheld the cornered jedi, the tight rope he walked held taunt, moments from snapping.

Or maybe it already had.

She left him to sweat it out, her hand clenching on her hilt as she took a single, harmless step towards him. "Why?"

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「AS THE DEAD SIGH」

"Recruit you?" A humorous scoff slipped wryly from between his lips. "Ostensibly, maybe. Though, not even I would be so naive to think I, or anyone for that matter, may make a Jedi out of you." Zaavik smirked briefly, his glare softening in a non-aggressive fashion. "I thought about it, and maybe I'm wrong, but I just don't see it." The offered hand dropped halfway, making room for her approach while also retreating in a paranoid touch-avoidant gesture. Ironic, given the nature of the gesture in the first place.

"I'm sure plenty would've said the same about me, though." Truthfully, he himself was quite possibly the worst excuse for a Jedi he'd ever met. Knighting had felt like a sham, war hero commendation too, he didn't deserve anything. That's why he was trying to earn it now, make a difference. Whether it was the truth or his own twisted perspective on himself changed nothing. What he'd done all the way up to where he stood now couldn't ever be changed. You had to live with these things.

"I just want to help you, like I said. Jedi or otherwise, just not a Sith. The Dark Side is voracious, and it devours you with every passing second. So too, is the hate that you bottle. Mine has already eaten more of my than I can ever hope to get back. I don't want that for anyone. Not even a Sith."

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed


A dry laugh caught in her chest, his words earning a near roll of her eyes. "Oh when you put it that way. I'm flattered." She kept approaching, her steps lazy yet pointed as she drove him back. There was no window in this room. There was no escape spare the door at her back. She bounced the saber in her hand, the tip held off to the side.

"You know. For a moment I thought you might actually be decent. But I'm so stupid," she cursed, her head shaking in passionate dismissal. "Such an idiot to think I could actually get understanding out of someone like you. You spout the craziest chit, you know that? As if I'd abandon the people that need me." She pointed the saber his way, its length bouncing haphazardly as she gestured. "The people you want to kill." The blue hue reflected in her eyes, intense as her fury broke free.

"You will never. Speak. Of my pain. Again," she uttered, her voice rasping with righteous indignation. Firey hot tears boiled over, the wounds of her past laid open and bare. It was his fault. For prying. For being a prick. For taking part in the systematic murder of people-- he was no savior. He was no hero. She didn't buy his excuses. She saw him as he was and she held him to it.

"I hate you!"

She descended on him in a flurry, streak of red and blue as she went to deliver a silencing blow across his neck.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「DISCIPLE」

A grimace materialized over Zaavik's face when the laugh reached his ears. The final thread on the rope had finally broken. Whatever silver he had on that tongue of his clearly hadn't been worth its weight in words this time. Fingers twitched, muscles in his body near-trembling with anticipation of whatever twitch-reaction he'd need to make next to save his skin.

Every opportunity he had to retort was stifled by her continual rebuke. Words had probably outgrown their usefulness now. Cerulean eyes followed the blue droning of saber tip as she whisked it around with the camber of her words. He wasn't listening anymore. She was going to strike, it was clear, all attention reallocated to the secret top priority of this entire endeavor: not dying.


"I hate you!"

Couldn't help but hear that part, though. Visions of the saber's trajectory flooded his middle-consciousness with a pang of danger only split-instant before she began to strike. Eyes widened suddenly, head reeling back along with the bending of knees. Spine and sinew contorted suddenly into a low backward lean, slipping just beneath the would-be deathblow. He snapped back up, snatching his saber on the way up and sending the viridescent blade screaming to life with the distinct hiss that only a lightsaber could make.

A step back sought to put space between them, but his back bumped the wall halfway in. He pointed his saber forward in a defensive gesture and half-shrugged wryly. "Well, welcome the club then, I guess."

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed

She screamed in his face, the motion senseless and even wild as he made light of her pain. There was insult in what he had just tried to do. There was pain in the pain he tried to use against her-- pain he was responsible for.

She would not be manipulated. She would hold him accountable.

She felt so foolish.

The room surged with energy, dark and twisted. She jumped up, her head brushing the high stone ceiling. The energy imploded, telekinetic tendrils ripping the shelving off the walls. In her fury, she was stronger. The metal units went tumbling down towards him. She fell after it, her hair flowing around her like a vengeful halo as she came down with an overhead strike.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「DISCIPLE」

Pupils dilated to a black speck on a cerulean backdrop. Adrenaline coursed along with the force, every muscle revving for their next move. A second hand grasped his saber hilt, thumb sliding over to press the activator to send the second blade erupting from the opposite end. Controlled arcs of verdant light sundered shelf and linen as they careened toward him on either side. Plasma hissed against metal and fabric, leaving a burnt smell in the air expanding from the long, black scars left in the objects.

Zaavik turned his chin up, meeting her snarling rage head-on with a stern look of determination. Blue and green screeched together, one of his blades catching the oncoming strike from overhead. The blade to the opposite cut into the wall behind him as the hilt turned with an accommodating camber. The light from the clashing blades strobed a vibrant cyan.

He pressed forward, kicking his foot off the wall and freeing himself from the clash. His frame spun in a tilted corkscrew, his boots knocking into a ceiling panel and jarring it out of place. He landed on the other side of her with a broken shelf clattering beneath the impact of his feet. Elbows pulled back, and one shoulder reached over to hold the saber alongside him at head-level; Juyo's closest equivalent to a fool's guard.

"We don't have to fight," he declared calmly. Illumination droned and sputtered against his face, melding with the light vermillion to manifest a hazy yellow sheen over his visage. "You know how this is gonna end; the same way it did the last two times." Her shoulder and side were testaments to the iron grip he'd kept on the upper hand between them.

"Just- Unignite the saber. Please. We can talk about this," he implored, ever persistent.

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed


"One time," she corrected with a hiss, turning to match her positioning with his dodge. She had no trouble balancing on top of the mess, her movements graceful as she pivoted her footing on the side of the fallen shelves.

The levity of what he had tried to do kept pulsing over her, bringing with it waves of indignation as she broke it apart. He had acted like he understood. And she-- she had wanted to believe-- because he wasn't the only one that had recognized parallels. She had seen his desperation for control on her ship. He didn't trust his people. She could see his scars-- and he--

He played with her.

"Just- Unignite the saber. Please. We can talk about this,"

"Shut up," She snapped. And it was was the last thing he'd have her say, her legs sinking into stance. And then she attacked.

Her blade twisted in arcs through the air, whipping quickly from form to form as she pressed for an opening. It was unrelenting, as smooth as water rushing in to a damn. Where there were cracks, she would press to slip through. He had always had her running, her back to him was his turf. Facing him head on was a different matter. Her size meant nothing when he had to break past her guard.

Her guard was deadly. She was going no where.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「DISCIPLE」


"Shut up,"

Were it so easy, he thought.

There wasn't any time to keep thinking as arcs of malicious blue struck toward him. His own saber came to meet them, weapon oscillating to parry with either blade one after the other. The sudden rush of offense forced Zaavik back a step as the defensive twirl of verdant plasmatic edges only just managed to bat away the strikes. Another step back. Zaavik felt a tug on his jacket followed by a hiss. A sliver leather and zipper incinerated by a the stray followthrough of a poorly parried attack.

A final step back. His heel caught the door, the rubber sole of his bootheel squeaking down to the floor. Nowhere left to go. A searing pain assaulted the flesh of his tricep near the elbow. Leather hissed as it burned away, a glancing blow turning flesh to black in an instant. He bared his teeth with a vague intonation of pain. Another strike came from the left. Zaavik smacked it away with a wild parry, saber blades popped and sizzled from the impact.

Zaavik used the opening to release one hand from the hit and throw it backward to slap the door control. A reverse step into the newly unobstructed door threshold brought him just beyond the reach of the next strike. Zaavik threw a feint to the right, pulling back at the last moment and shoving both hands forward to send the inert metallic center of his hilt towards the bridge of Aradia's nose.

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed


Aradia jerked, the hilt clipping her temple. Pain blossomed, her vision dancing. She didn't let her guard drop, but it bought him the breathing space to make it through the door and catch his footing.

She hissed, touching her temple and pulling back to find blood. It flowed freely down her forehead, the first drop sliding past her eye. Her attention snapped back onto him, the hit drawing a scowl across her lips.

"All that time Allyson spent away has left you sloppy," she stated softly, seeking a flinch of pain across his expression. Her chest throbbed, aching with the embarrassment his false pity had left her with.

The moment her words registered on his face, she assaulted him with a telekinetic barrage right towards his gut. She followed it in with an Ataru flip out the door, corkscrewing into a weighted slash over his metal arm.

"You're pathetic!" She screamed, her voice raw from the pain that she reflected onto him.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「ATTITUDE」




The soft reluctance in his face shifted to sharp malice almost instantly. A sharp exhale as his nostrils flared, teeth bared from beneath curled lips. He reared back for a strike, biting at the bait almost instantly. Alas, a collection of small, unseen forces slammed into his gut, catching him off guard and extracting a cough that sputtered with a backward stumble. Vision broke into doubles, a wheeze rushing into his lungs. Unconsciousness only narrowly avoided by some unexplained force of will.

A pang of feat nudged at him. Near-breathless he pivoted on his heels to meet her ascent over him. Prosthetic hand snatched forward, cortosis lining trapping the blue plasma with impunity. Arm shook with exertion as he slowly pulled the saber down and to the side like an off-kilter lever. "Veina," queen, he forced through clenched teeth. "Keep that name out of your mouth."

Zaavik's tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. A half step forward added momentum to the forward torque of his shoulders as he sent his forehead recklessly downwards toward the crown of her skull.

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed

She let him, her whole being falling into the welcoming embrace of the darkside. Energy rushed forward and rippled over her skin. He slammed into a solid barrier, her teeth grinding at the faint echo of pain that made it through. He would have it worse. Ashin Cardé Varanin lesson had been worth the payment.

She beheld him evenly, blood dripping down her face as she took in his fury.

"Who's the sith now?" He knee went up, a foot aiming to kick him in the gut and buy her space. At the same time, her wrist twisted, trying to break her saber free. She had told him to shut up-- go away. Leave her alone! But in that length of time a change had slowly crept over her. An edge entered her eyes, the soft girl turning hard. What mattered before mattered less now. Now she wanted him to flinch. Now she wanted him to know the pain he mocked.

"Admit it." She taunted again, walking forward with those exacting steps. The same one he had stalked her with that night on Life Day.

"You're hypocrites. The lot of you. Hate me if you want-- fine! But stop pretending you're any better for it, OWN WHO YOU ARE!" She lunged at him, one breath away from resuming her flurry of sword work.

This wasn't what she came to Bastion for, but it felt good.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「ATTITUDE」

Pain throbbed in his forehead as he pulled back from the impact. Aradia's blood smeared now across his face from the aggressive contact, crimson ichor contrasting against the brighter reds of his skin. At the very least, he knew what he felt was nothing compared to what he'd inflicted upon her. Against the blood-black smears, the crystalline mirrors in his skull shone even brighter than before. An entirely different intensity than those opposite of him, however. It wasn't anger, that had faded as soon as it sparked, No, instead it was a certainty. Certainty that he wouldn't lose. Certainty that Aradia needed help. Certainty that this wouldn't be in vain.

A barrage of cerulean strikes approached with a precise hatred. Alternating between blades, Zaavik parried each with deft, deceptively effortless looking strokes. Every return strike he threw was deliberately aimed to injure or disarm, but not to kill. It didn't matter, as none found purchase past her guard. Plasma sizzled on plasma, flashes of light illuminating in quick snaps with every moment of contact. A final clash saw their weapons lock together, the two of them struggling against each other's strength. While it'd been made painfully clear in previous encounters that Zaavik would easily overpower the waifish Sith, this time she met him with everything he could give, as if she had some inhuman surge of strength.

The work of the dark side, no doubt.

"You're right," he said. "I'm a hypocrite." He wouldn't indulge her accusations as a generalized picture of the entire Jedi Order, though. It wasn't his place to speak for them, or declare what they were. He was only a Knight, and a fresh one at that. Zaavik was a hypocrite, but a hypocrite was in many cases just a man trying to change. It was often those who criticized, however, who were trying to hide what they themselves lacked. "If I hated you-" he said, trailing off for a moment as he summoned his own surge of strength to avoid being overwhelmed. "I wouldn't be trying to help you."

Zaavik shoved forward, freeing himself from the clash and gliding backward on feet kept low the floor. He twirled once over, adjusting himself through the corridor and braced for the next barrage. If he was going to be on the back foot, at the very least he'd take the liberty of leading the fight locale. She could press all she wanted but had to follow where he retreated. He'd need to retain some semblance of control if this was going to ever turn in his favor.

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Perl | Closed
​

He admitted it too easily. It did nothing-- soothed nothing. She needed to see his pain, she needed him to know. She descended on him, her thoughts bleeding away as the fight took over. She didn't think, Kaalia and taught her that just got in the way. She felt. Instincts and the force guided every unrelenting strike she rained down on him.

It was different, being the pursuer. The control was in her hands this time. She wasn't willing to let it go.

"If I hated you-I wouldn't be trying to help you."

"Right," she scoffed, matching his pace down the hall. "Handing me to my murders, very helpful." Her features contorted with the delayed pain of the reminders, the blue blade twirling twice at her side. She surged forward, an underhanded swing trying to clip up under his armpit. Her strikes were starting to focus around that arm, a push to severe the cybernetic from flesh pursuing.

"You want me dead," she spat, following it with a fluid upward arch that transitioned to clash towards his hip.

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「ATTITUDE」​

Zaavik moved again to parry the strike, feet shifting and arms arcing to guide his saber toward the strikes. Blue skidded against green, halting the first, but not stopping the tip of the blue to carve slightly into his hip. "Kuron!" A pained expletive growled from a deep, primal depth in his vocal folds. His stance faltered on that side momentarily before a sudden flourish and compensating readjustment put him back in place. Red spattered visage regarded Aradia with a pained grimace. The kind of grimace only incinerated nerve-endings could achieve.

"If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have bothered trying to talk to you in the first place," he said. Two opportunities to kill her had come and gone before this third meeting. Zaavik chose mercy both times, even allowing her to flee the very heart of the Core in her own ship. Did that mean nothing to her? Or was she so blind with rage she hadn't even considered reflecting? Zaavik shoved these considerations out of his mind. If there was any hope of a breakthrough, he had to speak. As long as she continued the assault, he wouldn't be able to do that effectively.

His eyes darted around in an erratic scan for a solution. Improvisation was largely responsible for the reason he was still alive. Today would probably no exception. A door control was just barely visible over he shoulder, past the reddish threads that hung over it. A moment of focus, and suddenly Zaavik could feel the door panel's electrical pulse as he reached through the force. On the other side, that pulse echoed out into a chamber much larger than the linen closet he'd only narrowly escaped from.

An idea flickered to life in his head.

The Shadow moved forward, throwing wild and ferocious strikes toward Aradia with either blade. Buzz, sizzle, pop, all deflected. He could see the blue moving for his head in a horizontal strike just before it happened as if he pulled the next move from her mind. He dipped low, his left foot extending and sliding across the ground beside her. A bend of his knee pulled him in as he ducked beneath the strike and strafe alongside her to maneuver behind. Zaavik spun with his momentum, his heel kicking the unsecured door panel and triggering it to open.

Boot shifted flat against the wall, pushing off to meet her oncoming attack with added force. When the force of his insistent parrying created some breathing room, he slipped back through the threshold. With two swings, his saber carved into precise locations along the door frame, sending sparks and smoke flooding into the threshold and he faded into the obscurity of the greyish screen of wisps and flickers.

A trill of excitement brought a smile to her lips. She was getting to him. Each hit chipped away at his defenses. She could feel his desperation in the flurry of his attacks. It urged her on, the acolyte finally finding the upper hand. All she had to do was keep. On. Pushing.

She sunk deeper into the power, letting it strength her limbs and rule her reflexes. It was almost hers-- her intangible need to break him at her finger tips.

Smoke filled the halls, a fancy flurry of his sabers creating a momentary reprieve. She followed him without hesitation, growing reckless with the power she leaned into.

"How does it feel?" She asked, nudging the door closed behind her. Click, went the lock. "Being hunted. Trapped." She let that word hang in the air, the echos of a lost life still clinging to the energy of this room. The purge was not an easy thing to erase. Not that the Imperials even understood the forces they so carelessly messed with.

"Can you feel it? They linger. They haven't moved on. They haven't forgiven."

She walked in deeper, her saber drawing sparks across the stone as she dragged it behind her. The smoke began to settle, slight golden hue to her eyes as she scanned carefully.

"Once I'm done with you, I'll go for your friends too. I think they'd like that."

 

[Zaavik Perl]

FEL REDOUBT // BASTION
SECOND BASTIONFALL
Darth Daiara

「ATTITUDE」​

The Force shrouded Zaavik into obscurity. Every photon bent around him, a trick of the light rendering him completely invisible. He stood motionless as Aradia strolled into the room like an amused predator. With every step, she grew closer, stopping only inches in front of him. He held his breath, not wanting even the smallest breeze to tip her off. Hostile eyes scanned around the room, looking right through him as if he was never really there at all. A Ghost. A Shadow. Right under the nose was where he excelled.

"How does it feel? Being hunted. Trapped." ​

Come to think of it, it wasn't exactly a new sensation. In one way or another, that feeling was ever-present. The streets of Zeltros, the halls of the Jedi Temple's youngling ward with the taunting, tormented faces that inhabited it, and now with Ido Bastra snuffed out, even his own home. He was now, at this moment, what he always had been. It would be a lie to say her words didn't remind him how much it disgusted him. It'd taken years to learn how to ignore it, and he didn't much like being reminded.

"Once I'm done with you, I'll go for your friends too. I think they'd like that." ​

Zaavik was a fool to think she couldn't say anything else that'd fuck with him. He frowned, even though he doubted there was much weight to that threat. Yet, it invoked some inexplicable urge to strike. Remove the head from the concept so that it never came to fruition. He could do it too, easily, right now. She couldn't see him, one flick of the activator on his saber and she'd be- No. He wasn't going to stoop to her level, she wanted that. Or, at least, she thought she did.

His fingers fanned out with his hand limp at his side. Reaching out to the force, he willed a box in the corner to topple over, drawing her eyes elsewhere. A slow step to the side was taken with which he was able to weasel around behind her. Any breeze he might have caused likely overlooked in favor of the sound he'd engineered. Backtracking toward the door, he waved his arm this time to make an even bigger sound on the opposite end of the room, this time pulling an entire shelf over.

A quick turn on his heels and he lunged for the door control. A beep, and then a metallic screeching as the door forced its way open through the damaged frame. A quick step out through the mostly cleared wall of smoke and he dropped from invisibility. A blank look regarded back into the room as he hit the control again and sent the door grinding shut. With a small force of will, the force commanded the electronics in the door to lock. A loud click echoed through the hollow frame and out both sides.

He wasn't trapped anymore, objectively, but it didn't make the feeling go away. Nothing ever did.

Zaavik's forearm rested halfway against the door and the wall. A few heavy breaths caught him up to comfortable stamina. Now he could talk. "Bhesj," was the first thing out of his mouth. Old Corellian this time, not Zeltron, a general term of impatience. "Just listen to me," he insisted. "If I really wanted you dead, think about it, wouldn't this have been a waste of time?" He was beginning to feel like it was anyway. "I could have killed you at the outpost. I didn't. I could have killed you on Lifeday. I didn't. You aren't that dense, surely."

"You could've sent that knife between my ribs. You didn't. That's why I'm here. You're letting your fear and your pain get the better of you. You think you want to hurt me, but that's not really what you want. You want to feel safe, strong. You think if you hurt me, you'll reassure yourself that no one can ever hurt you again. It won't. It'll only make it worse. I know what you're feeling. Sinking my saber through the heart of the man that-" Zaavik hesitated. "Took everything from me- It didn't fix anything. Nor did the next one. Or the next one. It just festered the wound. I'm not about to let anyone, not even you, succumb to that, not when I've seen that there's still the possibility redemption left in them."

Zaavik Dagoth was a Jedi. He didn't try to help her for the praise. He didn't try to help her for his own self satsifaction. He was doing this because it was right.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

Lord-Major Erskine Barran
1st Galidraani-Volunteers Armoured-Infantry Brigade,"Tal's Devils"
2nd Battalion,"Blue-Hearts"
New Imperial Order

LOCATION: Fort Imperator

ALLIES: Willan Tal Zakaria Black Enedina Tal Vostok Grauv Djorn Bline
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Tyrell Paxxus Creuat Kolson Vrask Meko Sorrin FN-999

Rearmed, bandaged and ready to jump back into the fight, the three active (surviving) commanders of the Blue-Heart Brigade looked more like renegades than soldiers by that point. They stood haggard, dusty and bleeding as the wind kicked up the dust at their heels, a truly fearsome sight for their subordinates to draw strength from. All the Blue-Hearts in sight (though they had replenished their ammunition and other supplies some time before their commanders) were waiting on the final word, primed and ready to fight at a moment's notice, but their Lord-Major had one last thing to say, looking on all those Blue-Hearts who remained with admiration written all across his face.

'Ever heard this on yer travels? "And so we march to the beat of a Forlorn Hope's march, a place unfit for cowards!", as the old-Galidraani poem goes. Ah'd like ti see what that place looks like at night, if ye catch mah drift! Senseless in askin' this, but WHO'S WITH ME?!?!?!?!'

Some laughed, and some roared with all their might, but the high-morale of every Blue-Heart in sight was undeniably there to be seen by all, even by some allies manning the outer-gate of Fort Imperator itself. All singlehandledly raising their rifles above their head, (or flapping the NIO-banners back-and-forth from atop their tanks) Barran's bloodied battalion made their lasting statement of loyalty right then and there; made louder, and clearer than any Blue-Heart warriors had before them. In reaction to seeing such unanimous resolve manifest so purely, Barran, Shugg and Rhone were briefly taken aback by their subordinates, leaving them no option but to briefly bask in the wonder of it all as they walked through the wide-eyed throng of soldiers and crewmen alike.

Watching from the walls, the snipers looked on as the Blue-Hearts followed their surviving-commanders into the night-time fog, disappearing into the smoky haze of war itself without even so much as a flinch to be seen from any of them. An eerie sight the snipers knew they'd remember, but one they nonetheless welcomed for the time it was buying those within the fort. Whether kind words or otherwise would be spoken of them, Tal's 2nd Battalion wouldn't know unless they survived the sallying-attempt, but everyone who saw them going back knew for certain that their chances of surviving would be significantly lower fighting on the wrong side of Fort Imperator's outer gate. An unenviable position to walk one's self into, something every eye on the southern battlefront found impossible to deny, with each and every one counting their lucky stars for not having to follow their Blue-Heart allies into that ill-fated mirk.

'GYAH - GET THESE UGLY BOTTOM-FEEDERS OFF ME!!!!', a distant Dark Trooper called out in an appeal for help from the nearest Blue-Hearts, spotted approaching from almost fifty metres away, yelling at the top of his lungs in the hopes the riflemen could hear him from that far off. Barran could hear the desperation in his voice, though everyone could tell the soldier's power-armour was giving him enough confidence to not let that fear show, especially not in the face of the five devious, blood-thirsty sith-spawn who were trying their hardest to pin the Dark Trooper down, and with every ounce of strength they had to call on; vaingloriously attempting to claw and stab through the thick composite plating, it was becoming quite obvious that the struggle was a life-and-death affair for all involved in the distant melee, but Barran's will to aid his allies was too strong to worry about the attention his help would bring on his Battalion.

'Rhone, I sure hope you shoot as well as Heggy did.... Pick your spotter, your second shooter and his spotter. Then you can fire whenever you're ready, Sergeant.'

The ensuing struggle was proving quite suspenseful, especially with the loudness of the impacts from either side of the struggle, though it was slowly beginning to go in the aggressors' favour. Kicking out at the face of one of them, the one closest to the face of the Dark Trooper was mercilessly headbutted with the steel kiss of disrespect, a clean-landing blow that would solidify the battalion's desire to see the power-armoured stranger survive the ordeal. Most of those watching would grit their teeth as they heard the stranger vocally exerting himself, railing against the odds with every fibre of his being as he defiantly screamed,'WHERE'S YOUR ENDLESS WAVES NOW, FREAKS??!?!?!', at the night sky above him. However, two mercifully-loud rifle shots rang out from the Lord-Major's right flank, killing both the sith-spawn who were holding the Dark Trooper down by his arms; followed by two more shots in the dark, killing one and brutally dismembering another in short order.

<"Milord, my apologies; no clean line-o'-sight from this angle. Same goes for Guardian Three sadly.">
'Barran to Guardian one! Stand your sniper-teams down for now, the Dark Trooper can handle the-'

Before Erskine could finish his response, the last remaining sith-spawn assailant had been found just ten metres away from his friends' corpses, trying to use the smoke from a destroyed tank as cover for an escape; but the power-armoured stranger was in no mood for mercy, seen savouring the moment as the enthralled Blue-Hearts watched on wordlessly. Even from a distance, all of the Major's men could hear the Dark Trooper's heavy, erratic breathing; a slow, laboured rasp that promised death to the unlucky sith-spawn before him, a sound that brought foreboding shivers to Shugg's spine. 'Sssssh, ssssshhh.... I have to tell you something, freak.', the stranger said coldly, pausing to turn his victim's face towards his own, still breathing loud enough for the Blue-Hearts to hear. Lifting his former-assailant by the throat to put the beast's shoulders on a level with his own, the Dark trooper chuckled wryly before grunting his conclusion,'Bastion STANDS!!!', with a decapitating, steely punch to the sith-spawn's face.

'Form a perimeter, we're getting this one back to his unit.'

Stepping away from the corpse, the Dark Trooper found a spot to slump into a kneeling position, letting the raw emotion take over as the adrenaline's residues still coursed through his veins; not that the men nor Erskine could hear it, but they were all too familiar with what the body-language implied. After that, they saw the shuddering that accompanies the tears of the traumatised, approaching closer to find him stubbornly trying to shake it off for the sake of his saviours; though the stranger would never know that the Lord-Major had quietly asked the men to leave him be, understanding how close the stranded Dark Trooper had come to death, Erskine still needed the stranger's callsign to relay his rescue to Vostok. Taking the opportunity to see for himself, Major Barran would approach to offer silent solidarity, checking the breast-plate of the power-armour to get the moniker, all whilst kneeling next to the Dark Trooper until he was ready to talk.

'Barran to Punished Hound! We have a rather shook-up,"Foxhound Eight", with us here, and we're bringing him with us on our way to your current position. He's safe, and unharmed, but he came closer to a horrible death than most of the men I have left. Don't coddle him, just give him his space. Blue-Heart Alpha out!'
​

​

 

[Darth Ledgermayne]

He could see anything. Not physically. The darkness that leaked from his very mind had taken his sight, subjecting it to the waves of jet black energy that surrounded him and all his victims. Waves of darkness was a respecter of no one person. All were at the disadvantage and yet not all was lost with Ledgermayne. There were different ways to see what was going on. Even now the floor held vibrations and it came to the Gutretee in flickers of light. A single flicker gave him little but when in multiple movements occurred, a sound image began to carve itself into his inner eye.

And there was much going on within the tunnels underneath Bastion. And like the days he spent on Isis learning to listen and shape the planet, the Sith Lord would do the same here. It came to him. Flashes of combat. His own sithspawn being destroyed over and over again by this batch of annoying yet dedicate grouping of warriors. He could hear their commands and barked orders from meters down the pathway.

Hold the line.

Stop the escaping sith? Turning his crystalline head to the right the flashing images of new movement branded Daeron finding passage out. He was not alone though. One of the Imperial warriors followed suit after him. Ledgermaynes focus fell on the pathway that the Sith apprentice was headed down. Kneeling to the floor the Gutretee placed both hands down and fell still. His brow raised ever so slightly. A greedy interest gripped him with the sudden realization. The service exits!

There was haste in the Gutretees movements thereafter and though he could not directly see the massive Oblitus Wardens cramped in the tunnel near him. He knew they were still behind him. Every other sithspawn he commanded had been sent into battle against Areyon 's Omega guard. They would be swarmed from both close and in long range, Meanwhile Ledgermayne would regain his focus. Rock, mineral, stone and metal reinforcements surround him all over. This was his element. Now walking at a medium pace, hand trailing along the all of the pathway he remained in, The Sith Lord traced the direction the service exit lead and grinned. " Aid me. I require you added power." He commanded and threw both arms to extend toward the service exit tunnel. The Soil, stone and minerals surrounding the service tunnel exit screamed with the added pressure of Bastions depths being manipulated to fall inward. It rushed down into the far service tunnel exit several meters from the Sith apprentice. Daeron , If his eyes were keen would notice the strange sight of stone and dirt defying gravity itself. Halted by an invisible grasp through earth shaping.

And as he would approach the avalanche of Bastions crust, rather than cave in, began to ascend upward toward the surface with violent tremors and vicious quakes. Rugged dirt and stone stairs to be taken as Ledgermayne remained in focus carving a quicker path of medium size. If all went well the apprentice would see the light of day soon.

" This is a quicker path. Take it and alert our forces." The Gutretee's mind echoed attempting telepathically to alert Daeron where to go and what to do.

 

[Daeron]

Prev...

At the moment Daeron looked back, sithspawn still nipped at Areyon . He caught a glimpse of the rest of Omega Guard just before he turned away and continued to run. Soon after, Daeron could hear Areyon’s footsteps behind him. He knew someone pursued him.

Compared to the gigantic bulkhead at Tunnel B-1, the service tunnels offered little room. Mid-stride, Daeron’s lightsaber struck the side of the walls – so he deactivated it.

And continued to run.

Until he could no longer.

Darth Ledgermayne manipulated the earth surrounding the manmade access ways – bending dirt and metal to create a path to the surface. Daeron had no chance to react. He was running at full sprint, and Ledgermayne’s actions blocked off the path forward. Some invisible force pulled Daeron up and into the hole that materialized. And he flew up, and up, and up…

---

UNKNOWN​

Eventually, Daeron shot out of the ground. He suffered a heavy landing onto the duracrete surface. He lifted up his head to see himself in the middle of Ravelin. The chaotic battle raged all around him.

Daeron slammed a fist into the ground, “Damn!”

After finding Tunnel B-1 to be flooded and even after damaging the controls to it, he figured there might be an opportunity to get to Tunnel C-5 or another one and see about opening the floodgates on the enemy. But now, that opportunity was gone for Daeron…

Getting himself up, Daeron looked to the hole behind him – wondering if his pursuer would pop out of there as well.

 

[Noel Strasza]

C A T A P U L T
MAJOR NOEL "DEADER" STRASZA
N E W I M P E R I A L W A R M A C H I N E

OPPOSITION : // Iasha Rha Luna Terrik Dimitri Voltura Alina Tremiru Kesran Opadal
NIO ALLIES :// @IMTHEVULTURE Djorn Bline Tyrell Paxxus Jaeger Harrsk
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Willan Tal Asa Yubari DECEASED Erskine Barran Meko Sorrin FN-999 Kolson Vrask

<"This is Vandal-Actual. Strong recommendation to prioritize establishing an anti-air position. Smack down any dropship you see. Sith, Confederate. If it's flying, ground it. Need to establish superiority up above."> Berik 'ordered' to his hierarchical equivilent. Special forces granted a little more clout, luckily.

The static-laced voice of the fellow operator across the battlefield reached out through the link, gleaning her attention and drawing it from the narrow perspective her scope offered, though her gaze lingered on Djorn's flank as he cut down the path, moving to cover and to reroute in his effort to rendezvous with Vindicate. Perfect. He was squared away, then. The dust cloud from the buckling tower washed over her, flinging debris and scattered pebbles onto the front of the fortress and those positioned close to it, temporarily shrouding them behind the destructive haze. It was enough of an opportunity for the sniper to finally move from her nest; taking the shortcut to the ground this time the same as she had back before she was a wicked war instrument. "Copy Vandal-Actual, I'll see what I can do, out."​

Her scramble cloak cracked against the wind gusting from the sheer face of the fortress, throwing back the hood poised around her boxy scout's helmet, and she shouldered her rifle, swiftly tightening and adjusting the straps here and there across her guarded chest to better accommodate the changes to come. But as she stood there, shielded by the settling dust, a thought arranged itself in her mind- coaxed to being by the blaring friendly markers illuminating her now thermal sight. The Carlaci Corps's armored division had set up shop along the walk and stairs to the fortress, fixing their guns to the sky and to the encroaching ground forces. She didn't have any anti-air or craft weapons on her person, nor were they a consideration given the nature of her frequent operations, but... down below... the spanning tanks...​

"Ah feth, that's easy, isn't it?" The cyborg muttered to herself as she brought her left gauntlet about, tapping a finger against the dormant tac-screen to stir it awake. Her fingers moved rapidly across the pad, switching the frequencies of her communications to the channels of her old corps. What was the old call sign? Her brows furrowed as she clawed through her scattered memories, searching for it.​

"Avalanche, this is Deader. We need the skies clear, every anti-aircraft gun you've got, I want it hot, over." The request left her as she watched the heavy vehicles preparing to unleash another volley of devastating firepower into the distance, dropping unpredictable hail-marys into the advancing troopers.​

"Wilco Deader, switching priority to aerial targets. We'll need reinforcement on the forward line at our position, Doom Div ain't gonna hold forever, over." The familiar drawl of an old friend distorted by the scramblers in their helmets made her snicker, but only briefly, and she nodded to no one but herself. ​

"I copy, Avalanche. I'll advance on you, Deader out." ​

Major flipped and tugged her scramble cloak around, balling it up to grip forward of her and without much thought, stepped off the ledge of the rooftop, plummeting towards the ground. Of course, much the same as any other time, the jets of the pack strapped beneath her cloak revived with a loud huff, providing enough counter thrust to slow her descent to a level her mechanized frame could easily absorb and convert for power later on. And once she was on the ground, she adjusted her cloak back to place and drew the rifle back to low-ready, locking metal hands around the instrument of pain as she approached the shuffling tanks from the rear. Swiftly, the warmachine navigated around without being crushed and fell into the rank of familiar troopers hunkered down a barricade mere meters from the ascension to Fortress Imperator. ​

Doom Division. Her old company.​

Familiar voices echoed around her, though no words of recognition struck her, and she kept it that way. Friendship wasn't important, not right now, all that mattered now, was blasting those ships out of the sky. More dialing across the face of her command pad switched her channels back.​

"Vandal-Actual, this is Deader; Carlaci armor is focusing skyward. They drop 'em, we pop 'em, out." She offered back in response, at last, towards the one requesting aid. ​

The Major waited for none as she tucked herself into the firing line, ignoring the streams of plasmic hell screaming by, and focused her sights on the narrow road funneling into their cul-de-sac. None were getting through that alley without a slug to the scalp, and she could promise that. ​

All the while, to her flank, the turning charge of rotary cannons spun up, and at last, unleashed a deafening wave of white-hot defiance into the air, aiming to clip the wings of the dropships zipping between the skyscrapers. ​

TL;DR :// NIO tanks positioned in front of Fortress Imperator are now shooting at the Sith-Imperial dropships moving over Ravelin. More emphasis is placed on creating aerial superiority. If you want a dramatic landing and you're in one of those ships, now's your chance. ​

 

[Moff Drybis Lyken]

Location: HMIS "The Wrath" (Marr-class Star Destroyer)
Objective III: Space Superiority
Allies: SV-2121 Thaelius Ordo Onrai Grand Moff Aut-X
Enemies: Savoh Muska Var Koon Des Harz Naier Rambeigh Fiolette Fortan Gordon Captain Gallius Orcana Dracken Pryce
Engaging: Naier Rambeigh

Spoiler

Flagship:

-HMIS "The Wrath" (Marr-class Star Destroyer)

Other Forces:

-"The Black Bishop" (Baras-class Star Destroyer) (Slightly damaged)
-"Death's Door" (Baras-class Star Destroyer) (Destroyed)
-2x Tammar-class Corvettes (Slightly damaged)
- "The Reaper", Audax Class Cruiser
-Helix Squadron, 8x Caedus-class Superiority Fighter
-Obsidian Squadron, 6x Caldoth-class Bomber
-Ember Squadron, 6x Caedus-class Superiority Fighter, 2x Sith-Imperial TIE Interceptor
-Shadow Squadron (Moff Lyken's personal fighter squadron), 5x Rogue-class Starfighter
-20x Scorpio-class Sith-Imperial Droid Starfighter, in Reserve

"Sir, fleet has assembled and is awaiting further instructions".

"Very good Colonel, order all ships in attack formation Cresh Five"

"Yes sir, shall I move "the Wrath" as well".

"Well if we are to join the attack, then yes, move us to the rear of the formation".

He turned to Ensign Akura. She was making herself quite useful during this battle. The Moff had become quite impressed with her lately. She had been a recent addition to his crew and had only previous worked on a Lonena-class deep space repair Station in the Gorsh system. After his last engagement in a skirmish against pirates in the Belkadan system, he was in need of a few repair and a few additional officers. Akura was one of the young officers offered to fill an empty post on "the Wrath" and she was almost passed over by Moff Lyken's usual second in command, Commodore Curtis Rheardon, until Drybis was sent the resumes of each of the candidates. Most Officers and Administrators will leave the filling of posts and appointments of positions to others, but not Drybis Lyken. No, he actually takes pleasure in reading about a recruit's experience as well as their background and personality. It also helps to have a few friends in Sith-Imperial Intelligence if there is something Lyken needs to know about one of his subordinates, or about one of his superiors. He read her resume and was surprisingly impressed, more about her personality profile than anything else. Driven, determined, ambitious, and loyal. He saw himself quite a bit in those traits. Her father was also an Imperial Commander and was killed during a skirmish over Florrum. She knew of basic naval etiquette and conduct. The foundations for any good future naval officer. Her prospects were impressive that she went from working at a security checkpoint on a Lonena-class deep space repair Station to being a bridge ensign aboard the Star Destroyer of a Sith-Imperial Moff. And Drybis had plans for her as well. But firstly Bastion, he thought as he stopped his wandering mind and refocused yet again. He now gave the Ensign her orders.

"Ensign, signal Commander Arandis to complete her return and take up the head of the formation"

"yes sir"

As she went to contact the "The Black Bishop", all of the sudden, a tumultuous wave sent all computer systems haywire. For a few seconds, several electro bursts sprang out and the lights of many control systems flickered rapidly.

Moments later, it subsided.

"What was that", spoke Captain Threcki.

"Status report". The Moff grew somewhat concerned, his crew looked momentarily shocked and puzzled. "Status Report!".

The Colonel looked just as puzzled as the rest of the crew, until Ensign Akura blurted out the result of the supposed electro-magnetic shockwave.

"Whatever it was sir, its jammed our comms, even ship to ship local comms"

"Damn!", said the Moff as he cursed loudly.

"What do we do sir?", asked one of bridge cadets located in the weapons control section whose name Lyken had forgotten.

"We still have inter-ship comms?"

"Yes sir", spoke the Ensign.

"Very good", he then rushed in a powerwalk over to the main console and activated the ship's intercom, "Everyone aboard, attention", the Moff said. "I am putting in effect a Code 10 sequence, abort all protocols to reestablish contact with the fleet". "Restore all systems.....And someone get me damn comms!"

The entire crew rushed in a frenzied panic to complete tasks, some bumping into each other as they raced around.

"Sir", exclaimed one of the other Ensigns, Ensign Burik.

"Yes, what is it now".

"Sir, our fleet is still moving forward but at reduced speed".

"Alright, keep us with them".

Someone shouted across the bridge, "Alert, Enemy spotted in sector 14".

The Moff and his crew looked up to see a moderate sized New Imperial fleet emerging from the blockade slightly.

"They seemed to be harmed by the blackout as well".

"They seem fine to me, they must have restored their systems or found a way around it".

"Source Identified Colonel?".

"Yes, it was the Rae Sloane, all ships on both sides were effected".

"Interesting".

The Moff was confused why Fiolette Fortan would use something like that against her own allies, her forces. It made no sense other than to hurt his and the Sith Empire's naval capabilities.

"Has Vantai recovered from it".

"Unsure sir, she is still engaging almost all of their forces, she does have the larger battlecruisers as well".

"That is true Colonel". "Very well, is that fleet in front of us being targeted". He pointed to the fleet commanded by Naier Rambeigh .

"No sir, not that our sensors can tell".

"Very well then, when we get comms back, direct fleet to begin movement to that enemy group", "For now, turn us 40 degrees to starboard and keep us at 20 knots".

"Yes Moff Lyken, I was also goi.........".

Before the Colonel could finish, a voice came over the ship intercom, "Drybis, you read me, coughing, over".

"Karo, what is it". It was the ships' chief engineer, Karo Hurlapi, a Talpiddian.

"Hahaha, we got it, comms are back!", said the engineer as he could hear him laughing and sighing over the intercom.

"Sir, he's right, our ships are reporting in, but its only one way".

"Good, no time to waste, patch them through to Karo with how to get comms back, give them the predetermined orders, tell every ship full engines ahead once systems restored".

"Yes sir".

"Aye, full engines ahead sir", said one of the engineers on the bridge.

He turned back to the intercom, "Karo, thanks old friend, I owe you two now".

"Two, hey!". "That crap on Teth counts, and don't you forget it!".

The Moff chuckled as the intercom switched off. He walked back to the front of the bridge as the Wrath moved forward quickly with the rest of the fleet, and now with The Reaper in formation, he had sufficient forces to do some real damage.

"Colonel, The Black Bishop will lead the formation, tailed by the Reaper, then the two Tammar corvettes with flank it on both sides as we trail closely behind the rest, we can use this well if flanked or outmaneuvered". "Tell the fleet, Colonel".

"Yessir", The Duros rushed to get them sent.

"Ensign, make contact with the other ships if there comms are back and if not...."

"Sir, the Gorgon has made contact, they are proceeding to their target".

"Ah very good, proceed then".

Drybis could see the Imperial forces ahead of him, they had more ships, but he had better tactics and the better men. He was sure of that last part, for sure.

Now was time to launch the fighter squadrons, especially after he had Helix Squadron redock and refuel.

"Sir, Dancer squadron is getting swarmed quite a bit, should we send backup, asked Captain Threcki.

"No Captain, we won't unless they ask for it, understood?".

"Yes Drybis, I understand".

"Good", he turned to activate comms to the hangar bays, "This Moff Lyken, all squadrons launch immediately, over, I repeat all squadrons launch immediately, engagement imminent".

As his fleet neared closer to the Imperial fleet, Drybis couldn't feel more at home. This is where he belonged, this is where he was at his best.

"Sir they're raising upwards, enemy fleet at our 2 o'clock, no, now our 1 o'clock".

"Turn us up 30 degrees, we'll flatten out before we engage"

"Yes sir".

"Fighters launching!". as Ensign Burik shouted over to the Moff.

"Tell them to protect the fleet until new orders are given"

"Yes sir!".

"Moff Lyken, we are receiving a transmission from the surface".

"Ah about time, who is it, The Empress, the CIS?"

"Not sure sir, we can't make most of it out, must be being jammed by their planetary scanners, however two words got through that we did make out".

"And Ensign?". "What were the two words". The Ensign appeared to be swallowing her breath, in fear perhaps.

"Defeated and Lost, sir".

"Don't overthink it Ensign, they could talking about the enemy or something else entirely". "We will not presume as to what was said until we can get a clear message through to figure out, do you understand Ensign?"

"Yes Moff Lyken, I understand"

"That goes for all of you!", as of now, nearly the entire bridge crew looked worried as they stared fearfully at Drybis & the Ensign.

"Enough gawking, you all have your separate orders, back to your stations". They slowly moved back still clearly pondering about what had been transmitted. Drybis grew impatient.

"BACK TO YOUR STATIONS.....NOW!!!!!", he shouted as loud as he could to get the message across, loud and clear.

The crew rushed back, clearly frightened a bit by the Moff's tone, they moved back to their stations and began to resume their tasks. Drybis formed a slight grin as he looked towards Grand Moff Aut-X and Captain Threcki, the only two that weren't frightened on board the bridge. He kept his grin as he walked back to the front & center of the bridge and resumed his typical stance. He would wait until they reached the enemy, and then. He clenched his fist.

And then he would tear them apart.....



Theme: The Fleet Assault

 

[Laertia Io]

The Advanced Model 1 aboard The Prosperity had hacked the security systems it had infiltrated with its quantum encoding, giving it access as an engineering technician. It wasn't looking to destroy the Prosperity. Just...delay it.

It leaked out of an air vent and reformed into its factory appearance clad in the engineering uniform of the ship and inside of a shower in empty quarters, stepping out into a passage, making her way past Jedi, the nanites she was composed of activating an electrical field specially tuned to convince Force Adepts that she was human. It wasn't foolproof. She didn't know how many Jedi aboard were Technopaths. The one thing going for her was that there were plenty of Synthetic crew aboard...she might not draw quite so much attention, being an artificial being amongst Artificial beings.

"Hey!"

The Android turned, spotting a Jedi Knight with a frown on his face...

"Yes, can I help you?" The Android asked.

"There's something strange. You don't look like one of the regular Synth Crew."

"I'm a new model. They're making advancements all the time...

"What is your design? You feel...off." The Jedi questioned.

"I'm a high end Saotome Product, geared for delicate repair work. You'll start seeing more of my type on ships soon. We're sort of in an early trials phase. They wanna see how units like me in the field do before committing to full time production. Wanna see my credentials? I don't mind taking time out of ny schedule if you have concerns..." the Android said, knowing the security systems she had compromised would register her as a member.

"I...I...you know what, never mind. I never was good at keeping up with all the tech everyone's floating around these days."

"Happens with the best of us. I'm constantly having to go with updates. Are you sure you don't want to check my clearance? I don't mind delaying..."

"You're remarkably...human like..." The Jedi noted. "They're getting better with their designs all the time..."

"It makes it easier for crew to interact with me..." The Android said. "Oh, by the way, I've been getting reports of lights flickering on and off. If you see any, that is probably a minor glitch."

"Oh. Alright then. Sorry for keeping you. Just curious, is all...you feel 'really' different from the other Synthcrew..."

"I was made with a lot of high end parts. Expensive programming. Expensive materials."

"Huh...well, I'll be leaving, then...have a nice day..."

"May The Force be with you, Master Jedi..." The Android said pleasantly as the Jedi walked off.

As she walked off, preparing to try and knock the Prosperity out of Hyperspace, as opposed to sabotaging the Sun Generator which would kill everyone aboard, she smiled...

"You're gonna need it to be with you, buddy..." she said in an extremely quiet tone.

The more it could delay their reaching Bastion, the more the odds tilted in their enemies favor...

After some traveling, The Android reached the Engineering Section. She released a sample of nanites from her foot into the door systems as she walked in, it shut and locked.

Synthcrew made note of her, and one immediately grew suspicious. She wasn't recognized by any of them...

As they moved towards her, her arms turned into blades and she launched into combat, hacking apart the Synths and dodging blaster fore as she began a fight towards critical systems, grinning as she diced apart her less advanced counterparts. One Jedi, who had been learning more about the critical systems and studying them drew her Lightsaber, dashing towards her with the Force, bringing her blade down on an exposed face, only for the blade to stop as it hit her face, which started to glow red as she pulled away, parrying the next attacks from her green blade before beheading her, and then rushed forward, dodging blaster fire, and then killing the shooters, before diving into and exposed maintenance panel on the floor, becoming liquid in seconds and flooding the delicate systems leading to engine maintenance terminals, which began fluctuating.

Lights began to flicker on and off on certain decks of the ship Ryv was on as a general alert sounded...

"ALERT! ENEMY PERSONNEL DISCOVERED IN ENGINEERING. ALL AVAILABLE SECURITY TEAMS RESPOND. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. REPEAT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL..."

 

[Cormac Thire]

P E N I T E N T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SEVENTH FLEET | BATTLE GROUP 'GILAD PELLAEON'​

Spoiler: Battlegroup Gilad Pellaeon | Var's Command

F L A G // : NIV Penitent | Pellaeon IV | 2000m [ 100 // 100 ] BATTLECRUISERS //: NIV Parabola | Phaetra | 3000m [ 100 // 100 ] DESTROYERS //: NIV Arbiter...... | Pellaeon IV | 2000m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Imperial Fist | Pellaeon IV | 2000m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Warpstorm..... | Tartarus | 2000m [ 100 // 100 ] FRIGATES //: NIV Bola One.. | Vanto | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Bola Two.. | Vanto | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Bola Three | Vanto | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Bola Four. | Vanto | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Pilam One.. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Pilam Two.. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Pilam Three | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Pilam Four. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Pilam Five. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Pilam Six.. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Gladius One.. | Cuirassier | 1000m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Gladius Two.. | Cuirassier | 1000m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Gladius Three | Cuirassier | 1000m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Gladius Four. | Cuirassier | 1000m [ 100 // 100 ] CORVETTES //: Several Squadrons | Caçadore Several Squadrons | Gurkha Several Squadrons | Vandal STARFIGHTERS DEPLOYED //: Several Wings | TIE/OT Outlander Several Wings | Petard Droid Starfigher Several Wings | TIE/HF Slasher Several Wings | IPLT-01x Excursor Star Sloop Several Wings | TIE/INx Interceptor Several Wings | TIE/VX Vanguard Several Wings | TIE/HB Bruiser Heavy Bomber Several Wings | TIE/GA Mauler Ground Attack

BATTLE GROUP "Gilad Pellaeon" Var Koon IN HYPERSPACE TASK FORCE "Antares Draco" Rurik Fel​

​

OVERTURE
​

"Comms are down, Admiral." Artor piped up across the holo table to the Kel Dor who only offered a nod in return. Just as Naier Rambeigh , the New Imperial Armada had honed their ability to respond to hurdles and offsetting, alien variables to enter the field of play. Laser arrays established between the several different detachments of the New Imperial kept the communications active. While not quite as sophisticated or actionable as traditional comms arrays, they were largely foolproof, unjammable, ever reliable. Until the normalization of systems set in once more, this would retain the communication within the New Imperial fleet.

"Adopt systems contingencies on all channels." The order hardly needed to be said and soon enough, the commo was alight again.

"They're engaging us, long range...teetering on ineffectiveness." It was a peculiar play of their hand by the Sith. Though forces tread upon Bastion's surface, they played conservatively in their assault of the New Imperial capital. A stark contrast to the tandem command of himself and Hiram Voss when they originally seized the world from the Sith Empire.

He was reassured that circumstances were not so similiar. All the officers at the command of Battle Group 'Roan Fel' were willing to lay down their lives for the objective at hand.

Clearly, the Sith were not so committed.

He'd test that commitment by prodding the beast.

"If they don't wish to properly engage, I suppose the burden comes unto us then." Var Koon states.

"And leave our position?" Artor refuted.

"Seemingly...if we move out ahead of the planetary defenses, then it allows us a safe path way of retreat...and when our reinforcements arrive, a chance to choke the life from, trapping whatever has managed their way planetside." Var Koon states in his cold and stoic fashion. Not that any ettiquette was to be expected by now.

"One of our own is caught in the fray as well." Artor remarked.

"Seems it, our bait didn't pull them at all. A shame, but I suppose too hopeful. They're playing their hand far too conservatively. We'll asphyxiate their position and begin to sever and envelop their formations."

"Sir?"

"Begin the approach, leave the interdictor, Parabola and the Arbiter to hold the rear line, parallel to the surface and face shields toward broadside, all accompanied with their task force. Ensure a defensive screen is formed up." Var Koon commands. In relation to his own battlegroup-

"The rest...forward unto dawn." ​

"Position our corvettes to handle their fighters as we move to engage. As soon as we are in effective weapons range, rain hell unto their Marr-class and other destroyers, priority descending from there. Anything to clear the path. I can only expect the Man of Iron to arrive soon."

H A M M E R - L E A D E R
Artem Strag
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
181st STARFIGHTER GROUP
HAMMER SQUADRON
TIE/HF Slasher | Flight Suit

VENGER
​

The gloves were off it seemed. The spearhead formed up by Var Koon's destroyers began their approach, to close their distance with the Sith. Dangerous, forsaking fortified space in favor of engaging on the open plane with the enemy.

Good.

I wanted to watch things die today.

They were too far to nova flare, to drop the Hammer properly down over them. We were left with screening and tangling with the fighters they sent out at us.

Wasn't ideal, but it was meat for the hook, blood to flood the gutters.

<"Pair off until further orders, Hammer-two on me."> She was a Chiss woman, I could only assume she was supposed to be my right hand now that I was at the reins of hammer. She was quiet, as I'd come to expect. But I didn't care, I needed to see her behind the sticks.

In spite of the Slasher leaving much to be desired, it fared well enough against Sith stock.

And she fared even better.

THE WILL OF DEFIANCE
Fiolette Fortan | Savoh Muska | Naier Rambeigh | Des Harz | Kormov Alten

THE PARASITES
Grand Moff Aut-X | Moff Drybis Lyken | Onrai

FLEET ACTIONS
Main formation of Var Koon's force is forming a spearhead to engage and enclose. TSE forces.
Several ships are holding back to secure a defensive rear.​

 

[UX-0626]

Location: Imperial Headquarters, Ravelin - Bastion
Time: 1200 Hours
Allies: TSE ( Iasha Rha Alina Tremiru Kesran Opadal ) │ CIS ( Luna Terrik Dimitri Voltura)
Enemies: NIO ( Kolson Vrask FN-999 Noel Strasza Kolson Vrask Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Djorn Bline )

The sniper sat in meditative silence as the dropship took off from the landing zone, her gaze flat and unfocused amidst the relative calm of the flight, the disharmonious noises of the battlefield muffled by the gentle hum of the dropship’s engines. Her first ride in a dropship into live combat had seen the vessel crash after being struck by anti-air fire over Panatha, with her and a Sith Acolyte standing as the only able-bodied fighters in the aftermath. The experience was still fresh in her mind, an ever-present memory in spite of the concussion she had sustained during the impact. However, the feeling of helplessness was restrained by the voice of her creator in her mind, speaking in a deep, warming baritone that worked to stave off the worst of her anxieties from the incident.

In listening to the idle chatter of the Legionnaires, Dauntless, and Sith in the ship, 626 absorbed the details of their conversations, through them becoming aware of the fact that comms were down. She had failed to notice the cut in comms chatter herself, but in re-activating her HUD, she saw the signals of jamming flashing in her golden eyes, the radio silence an ominous warning of something more-

Boom!

A single assault concussion missile, cast forth from one of the many anti-air Cataphract tanks on the ground, struck the dropship with violent force, depleting the vessel’s shields upon explosion and setting it alight with raging flames. 626 was rattled in her seat, remaining conscious by some miracle even as a piece of shrapnel tore through her armor’s cuirass, stopped only by the hard gammaplast plating, though retaining enough kinetic force to knock the wind from her lungs. Lights flashed and alarms blared in the troop area, warning the occupants to brace for a hard impact as the pilot fought to regain a semblance of control over the stricken craft.

626 held on tight, sparing a brief glance down at her mangled breastplate before looking up, switching her vision to infrared in order to compensate for her dark-blind eyes as she looked to ascertain the health of her comrades.

In the next moment, the vessel rattled, vibrated, then bounced with the force of impact, before coming to rest on the approach to the Imperial Headquarters.

 

[Naier Rambeigh]

BATTLE_IN_ORBIT
PEACEKEEPER II
RAGE & SCREAM

Allies
Des Harz | Savoh Muskah | Var Koon | Fiolette Fortan | Kormov Alten | Dracken Pryce | Gordon | Captain Gallius Orcana

Hostile Combatants
Thaelius Ordo | SV-2121 | Onrai | Moff Drybis Lyken | Grand Moff Aut-X | Sith Vessels
​

Naier clutched the railings of his command deck tightly as Simone rattled off the updates on the holographic display behind him. Even as his eyes swept over the room below him, his mind raced- gears struggling to churn as it dusted the cobwebs off- to find a solution to his issue. A new issue, but not necessarily an unsolvable one.

Radars and sensors stations easily picked up the enemy fleet's movement as it reached out, a lumbering giant hand that reached out to swat the annoying fly. Thankfully their speed and mobility kept them away from the enemy's grasp, and even the earlier fighter wings that had tried to intercept them had, for the most part, petered off to find more vulnerable targets. Their defensive platforms and minefields made hazardous pickings for most of the enemy ships, who had to contend with an unappealing slugging match with platforms dedicated to a battle of attrition.

Naier discounted them in his mullings- they were serving their purpose of drawing enemy fire, and were well defended enough to be able to repel most boarding attempts. Only a concerted attack on the defenses would endanger their defensive lines for now- instead he remained focused on how best to engage the new threat attempting to shadow his movement.

He had hoped to escape their notice and attack from 'above' their fleet, but he had to remind himself that he was commanding a multi-vessel fleet. It was a difficult thing to hide their maneuvers, unless their captain was born blind and mute. "Captain. Ring up the Chief, I need to ask him something."

The woman paused as she hammered in the keys into the comms deck. Hansen's face was weather beaten and battered with age, deep valleys and creases forming where youthful plans once were. Chief Engineer Hansen had stuck with the Commodore since their time aboard the Stalwart-class. His scowling face spoke volumes that Naier had seen before. "What kind of abuse are you going to hammer on my baby this time, Commodore?" He growled, as a technician behind him scrambled with a wrench. The engineer took a moment to turn around and berate the man for running with the wrench, before tossing a toolbox after the sprinting crewman. When he turned back to the screen, Naier was already pinching his brow, half an extended sigh escaping his lips.

Before the old man could get another word in, the commodore dropped his hand and shot out the first question in his mind: "How long will it take to bring power back to engines if I cut it?"

Hansen's face wriggled between the emotions of disgust, concern and curiosity before he finally settled on a tense, grim expression. "Give or take, 20 seconds if we keep the reactors spun."

"Good- excellent. I have a plan. Captain! Take this down now." Naier glanced at the sensor deck below him, eyeing the readouts from afar- they had just enough time to pull it off. "We're going to redirect all power from engines to starboard thrusters- cut forward speed, and get us an explosive course correction. We only need a few seconds to thrusters, because we're going to do a 180 degree spin and keep our initial forward momentum going. Still with me?"

The engineer clenched his jaw. As fuzzy as the display was, Naier could see the veins on his forehead bulging with a thousand hateful thoughts- for a career officer who wanted nothing more than a safe ladder up to the Admiralty board, the young (relatively speaking) whippersnapper had broken nearly a hundred pipes, brought several engines and reactors to the brink of a meltdown and torn through thousands of power couplings with his machinations.

Hansen nodded painfully. With the defense of Bastion at stake, why would now be any different? "Good- and how long for us to cancel out our initial forward momentum with flank speed?"

". . .computer says 17.6 seconds, but we'll be running damn hot down here."

"Get your crew into space suits on the double- we're going to cut life support across engineering and venting out all oxygen." Even as Naier's orders left his mouth, Hansen had already turned around and barked his own rough interpretation of the message. Shortly after, Simone had their systems operator ring the alarm below deck.

Hansen reappeared with a rebreather apparatus, even as he quickly slipped into his engineering EVA suit. "I think I get the gist of it from here on, Commodore." he said with an air of irritable finality. Naier nodded quickly, and waved him off with a mocking salute. Hansen didn't bother to return the gesture, and simply cut off comms from then.

Without missing a beat, Naier turned and barked out his orders to the crew. "Navigations, prepare for a course through that fleet, assume immediate vector change now! Systems, get the word out- hard Gs maneuver in 30 seconds, all crew brace." The chorus of 'Aye ayes!' was pleasing to the man, more addictive than the last bottle of whiskey. Blood pumped through his veins, even as he accepted the sheer flimsiness of his confidence- adrenaline and excitement was a good front for bravery.

"Gunnery, hold fire on my go- activation phrase 'Roller'." Everyone manning the weapons station looked up, anxious, then at each other. Their affirmation came in the end, a slight tremble in their voice.

He walked over to his command chair, quickly motioning Simone to return to hers as well- the clicks clacks of safety buckles echoed through the bridge, and nobody was on their feet if they could help it. Everyone had reached for an emergency brace, or otherwise remained in their seats- when the commodore said hard Gs, he meant hard Gs. "Comms, relay orders to the rest of the fleet- Subtlety, Big Gun and Wild Rodeo to trail behind and prepare to release fighters once we pull this off! Spring to follow us closely behind."

As their laser arrays began to flash his orders across his fleet, officers of every stature paled, but relayed the orders to their crew. Whatever thoughts of dissent was quickly stamped out, whether by threat of insubordination or simply out of sheer desperation. Naier had to smile at the coincidence of one of his ship bearing the name of The Wild Rodeo- it certainly was going to be one very bumpy road they were headed for.

From his left, Simone spoke up, the veneer of her earlier confidence slipping away to reveal the more familiar anxious protégé. "You sure you weren't a pod racer in your past life?"

Naier chuckled. "Very sure Captain. You know me- I like my peace and quiet."

There was a disgusted snort from behind, but both officers laughed it off together. As the final checks were called out, Naier gripped his chair's armrest tightly. "Execute!"

As the orders bounced off towards the rest of Autumn Division, all of the vessels engines ceased burning- for a brief moment, they kept their trajectory, fulfilling Newton's First Law. Their momentum propelled the fleet further and further apart without their correcting vector thrusters to guide the ships.

Then all at once, starting from the NIV Inexorable Valediction of Summer, all starboard thrusters fired at once with enough force to rapidly swing the entirety of each vessel to face their rear. Within the bridge, every soul clung onto whatever support they could find for dear life. Naier slammed into his seat, and over the din of the explosive change in angle, he heard a crewman's bone snap. The victim couldn't even scream, his lungs pressed against his ribcage. No one dared to leave their seats to aid the ensign- it was a death sentence to unhook from safety.

When their ship had corrected its angle, turning the whole fleet around in a dime while retaining some of its initial forward (now backwards momentum), the secondary thrusters burst into action, preventing them from over-turning all at once. They jittered roughly- the hull shook and reverberated as the cruiser fought against inertia and momentum, and Naier felt his teeth chittering inside him.

In a split second, the thrusters slowly burned out as they held a normal, straightforward angle directly facing their pursuers. Naier counted down in his head- 10, 9, 8, 7. . . a corpsman ran to the wounded ensign and quickly dragged him off of his console and out into the hallway. The commodore couldn't wait for them to reach a safe spot- in the few seconds that he had given his fleet, his 3 Escoltas were beginning to disgorge their fighter and bomber complement, 9 wings of space superiority TIEs and 3 wings of bombers that quickly left their hangars. He didn't bother to supplement them with his Cuirassier's own fighter craft- it was more than enough for their purposes.

He looked at their pursuers, wondering if they were as surprised as he was at the change of events. Things never did go the way you wanted them to.

"Flank Speed!"

"Flank Speed!"

"Engines, flank speed! Affirmative!" In a silent, tremendous roar, all 12 ships shunted power back into their powerful engines- heat radiation dissipated rapidly in the vented engineering decks, and all notions of subtlety was thrown out of the window. The fleet appeared to slow down its backwards glide as their new acceleration canceled out the previous momentum, then quickly overpowered it. Autumn Division slowly gained forward speed, and then like a stone drawn back in its slingshot, shot itself forward. Their own fighter complement struggled to catch up with their speed, their own engines burning like the sun to follow after them.

Naier felt the distance close between them. He had wagered against the enemy's flagship, and their escorts. None of them struck him as particularly fast nor maneuverable- not in the traditional sense that he understood, as he violated all expectations of his cruiser. It had girth, but gargantuan size was no merit, unless inordinate exsanguination be considered a virtue.

More importantly, they appeared more suited for fighter-superiority, not as a bruiser vessel as the Summer and Spring- nor his corvette screens. "Weapons!" he cried out, straining to push his head forward from his seat's headrest. "Prep aft seismic charges, set detonation to manual!"

This was it. The crux of his gambit. Their fleet would have to execute the same level of crazy maneuver he did- but without the necessary speed to commit to such endeavour, they weren't going to be able to switch courses in time to avoid a good chunk of his charges.

He counted down, watched as his ships drew closer and closer- when their batteries opened fire, he winced at each impact against his shields, hearing the alarm for low energy rattle off in his eardrums.

But then, they got close enough.

Knife fighting distance. So close one could almost reach out and shake hands with the enemy. They met with the Black Bishop, who had taken lead of their formation- foolishly.

"Roller!", screamed the Commodore. At that moment, every gun powered up to its full potential, slaved to a single target ahead of them, their torpedo launchers already releasing the first wave of protons.

Alpha strike. The full opening barrage of an entire ship's weapons simultaneously. In such close distances. He closed his eyes and yelled the next order, even as the barrage opened up on their foe. "RELEASE CHARGES!"

As their fleet attempted to move through the enemy, both Cuirassiers deployed their Void-7 Seismic charges behind them, blinking away in silence. The rest of Autumn- their Escoltas and Cacadores blew past the final farewell gifts. Naier banked on the sudden chaos he had inflicted on the enemy to be more than enough to distract them from his explosive payload, as he hunkered down and prepared to receive retribution- it was going to be one hell of a good bye.

---

---

Fleet Roster Composition​

---

---

Autumn Division - 3rd Fleet

Vessel	Description	Status	Commander
NIV Inexorable Valediction of Summer​	- Cuirassier-class Cruiser	- Sustained Damage, Active	Naier Rambeigh​
NIV Silent Contemplation of Spring​	- Cuirassier-class Cruiser	- Light Damage, Active	Captain Williams Arburke, [NPC]​
NIV Lack of Subtlety​	- Escolta-class Frigate	- Light Damage, Active	Commander Serena Libertam, [NPC]​
NIV One Big Gun​	- Escolta-class Frigate	- Fully Crewed, Active	Lt. Commander Kerin Erkhart, [NPC]​
NIV The Wild Rodeo​	- Escolta-class Frigate	- Light Damage, Active	Lt. Commander Geller Janovic, [NPC]​
NIV Poor Deliverance​	- Caçadore-class Assault Corvette	- Light Damage, Active	Lt. Commander Ciroix Amende, [NPC]​
NIV Ulterior Motives​	- Caçadore-class Assault Corvette	- Sustained Damage, Active	Lt. Commander Louironna Blithe, [NPC]​
NIV Gargantuan Rooster​	- Caçadore-class Assault Corvette	- Fully Crewed, Active	Lt. Commander Eric Bentham, [NPC]​
NIV Anonymous Anarchist​	- Caçadore-class Assault Corvette	- Fully Crewed, Active	Lt. Commander Rickard Pline, [NPC]​
NIV Blue Sky​	- Caçadore-class Assault Corvette	- Light Damage, Active	Lt. Commander Krantel Geisling, [NPC]​
NIV Ironic Tragedy​	- Caçadore-class Assault Corvette	- Fully Crewed, Active	Lt. Commander Allison Vantam, [NPC]​
NIV Confidently Nervous​	- Caçadore-class Assault Corvette	- Fully Crewed, Active	Lt. Commander Otto Bahez, [NPC]​

---

---

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Cotan Sar'andor
​

As he rushed past her, up the stairs, she restrained herself from immediately springing after him.

A younger Joycelyn had run after her opponents without a doubt. She had always been rash, but experience prompted her to think first.

Instead of setting off in a mad dash, the Sith Empress turned and leaned Zaudraka on her shoulder. While the blade lay on close proximity to her face, her skin did not burn or split to crawl away from the intense heat. The searing hatred of her sword had become her own.

“Running away, Cotan?”

The fingers of her right hand moved through a pattern before she lashed it out like a whip.

“And here I thought you wanted to see me.”

From her fingers, a tail of fire stretched out after Cotan, racing to catch him. At its end the flames split open like a pair of warped jaws which then snapped together in an attempt at entrapping her opponent and pull him back to her.

 

[Iasha Rha]

Luna Terrik | Alina Tremiru | Dimitri Voltura | Kesran Opadal | UX-0626
Noel Strasza Kolson Vrask Ragnar the Untested

Iasha’s legs were bouncing as she sat in the ship. There were a hundred things on her mind; a discord of voices pressed in on her consciousness with thoughts and memories of pain and regret. She cradled and nurtured those emotions like one would nurture a warming flame in the dead of winter. Hate, revenge, vindication - That would be her solace.

She dug deeper, thinking about the last time she had been on Bastion,

Academy years, before the treason. She had been in Fortress Carnifex with her master when the attack occurred, he wanted to say something to her. He never told her his secret, those words he feared anyone else would hear. She remembered her hands covered in a different shade of red. She remembered trying to press it back into his body, to no avail.

She remembered the hurt, the chaos, the hate, the fear.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion

She told herself those words in a deep exhale when-BOOM-Something rocket the ship. Tumbling, rolling, crashing, coming still.

Iasha wheezed as she looked around, uncertain of how much time had passed. She found herself standing in the ship, uncertain of how she came to stand and how the harness that saved her during the crash had come off. Her senses were blurred together into a single mass of pain, fog, a loud whining sound and the scent of fuel.

The high pitched sound stopped as her hands instinctively seized the two cylinders at her sides.

One for her, one for her comrade dead on Dantooine.

“Go to hell.”

She whispered to the ghosts plaguing her consciousness, unsure of her own volume and indifferent to its interpretation. The twi'lek marched toward the smashed cockpit as her thumbs caressed the activation buttons of her sabres, eyes intent on the transparisteel viewport.

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Tags: Auteme
Gear: In signature ​

"Uhp--!" Cara lashed out with a forearm to shield her visor from attack, not expecting the eruption of red and white paper. They smacked into the black visor then fell with a flutter, yet more than a few of the glossy notes stuck to the glasteel dome. Over the thin wrinkling of the paper she heard the patters of fading steps as the girl fled in whatever direction. The harder Cara scraped at the static-clung slips the less progress her metal fingers made as they raked across the smooth surface.

"Oh damn it--" she spat in aggravation. It was a waste of time, and while she was delayed the girl could have been warning troops of the engineer's position. She sucked in the breath meant for a curse as she glanced to the timer. If she was to aid the others she needed to be at her planned station, yet the thoughts of an entire platoon becoming her firing squad were too visceral to ignore. She wouldn't let Bastion become her grave like those failures before her. Fingers abandoned the visor and went to the helmet's seal and released it. The dome clattered to the floor then was kicked aside as Cara backed away, scanning the dark garden for signs of the girl's route. The engineer couldn't hope to catch up with the fleet-footed youth, but took comfort in the fact she wouldn't have to. Cara squared her stance and drew a steadied breath. Having leveled both artificial arms near her hips she gave a moment's pause.

Ready.

Cara slammed one wide step forward onto the imperial medallion while swinging both fists and forearms onto the stone. With a resounding crack the iron sun splintered as the blow fragmented the crest, vibrations from the act rippling through the ground and bouncing back. The seismic echoes filtered into Cara's arms and she opened her eyes as she calculated the placement of her next move. Dust fell from her hands after she wrenched them from the pulverized stone and shook away the debris from her finger's joints. Her left boot slid across the cobble to square her stance as her hands seized the earth below them. They moved in learned gestures, symbols she made to associate with what she wished to accomplish through her will. The Force was her tool, and she input commands which allowed her to manipulate and quantify its power. Once that input was complete she pulled at the unseen below the surface. Knees bent from the weight of the hold yet her arms didn't waiver, the servos accustomed to much heavier exploits than this "quicker" move. The ground rumbled as she commanded it to her design, and with a violent upward thrust of one hand it exploded. Ahead of the fleeing girl--to the best of Cara's calculation-- a row of rough-hewn pillars would spike from the ground barring escape at a 20° angle ahead. With the exertion Cara gave a grunt then pulled back her hand, only then to step forward with a mirrored action with her other. Another row, this time to the right at a similar slant inhibiting her escape.

With a haggard sigh she released the hold and let herself relax. Even without the timer of her helmet's HUD she felt time slipping away, the need to hasten the end of their encounter growing. She strode forward through the flora, her gaze turning cold as she felt her voice tighten. "You already wasted your chance to flee, and I fear there is no reimbursement for that," she said while plucking away another stray paper from her armor's chest, "I don't wish to kill you, girl, just acquaintance you with unconsciousness."

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Iasha Rha | Luna Terrik | UX-0626 | Kesran Opadal | Dimitri Voltura | Kolson Vrask | Ragnar the Untested

There was something off with Iasha. Alina wasn't entirely sure what it was, but she wanted to know. There had to be some way she could support her friend. She wanted to think of the Twi'lek as a friend. Before she even had a chance to try and make that bridge the world turned to fire. She felt it before it happened. That sudden dread that made her stomach flop. Then the explosion. The pain. The deafening noise. She awoke on the ground, body screaming in pain. Thankfully she'd been able to reinforce her body enough not to break on impact.

Had she been thrown free of the ship?

Slowly she pushed her way to her feet, eyes darting around as she tried to focus. Pain fogged her head, but it was quickly dimming. Adrenaline. In the distance she saw it. The ship. There was a grim smile on her lips as the irony struck her. The landing vehicle was downed, but it crashed right into where they needed to go. If any of them survived, they were in a good place.

The young Sith pulled out a medpac, quickly injecting it into her thigh. It'd help numb the pain. Heal some of her wounds. It'd be enough for her to be ready to fight, even if it wasn't at her best. The blade in her hand ignited next as she half ran towards the downed ship. Some of her allies had to survive. And it wouldn't be long until the traitors came to make sure there were no survivors.

 

[Elicia Hejaran]

Objective II: Danger Below, en route to Fortress Imperator
Allies: Jaeger Harrsk

Like most spooks and spies, COMPNOR certainly had a number of tricks up their sleeves. Secret walls leading to secret tunnels, and it would seem that these tunnels weren't unoccupied.

"Keep your eyes open. These tunnels are usually empty, but something has been tripping sensors... and I am pretty sure that something is rats."

Ugh. Rats were disgusting.

"Sith rats."

Sith even moreso.

As the two continued to venture deeper into the tunnel system beneath Ravelin, Harrsk received yet another transmission on his comms. To be honest, Elicia was surprised that such systems were able to effectively connect to the networks in an isolated subterranean environment. Curiosity turned to contempt when the transmission revealed that the New Imperial Order's own Force order roamed the tunnels. What respect she had for the NIO was undermined the by sponsorship of its own arbitrary Force order, and it angered her to ally with them, even only if temporarily. Elicia was a pragmatist though, and if ridding the galaxy of the Jedi and Sith plague required the assistance of Force users who rebuked both, it was a price she is willing to pay.

There was a minor audible though - they weren't going to engage to be joining the Imperial Knights in the tunnels. Their target was the NIO's own Grand Vizier Tyrell Paxxus . She wasn't in the business of assassinating despots, but then again, she wasn't sure what the COMPNOR man's intentions really were. All she knew was that Paxxus was ordering recklessly danger close strikes, Harrsk sought to stop him, and stopping these kinds of things typically involved someone being killed.

Echoes of combat hummed through the tunnels as Jaeger and Elicia navigated their way to the NIO stronghold on Bastion: Fortress Imperator. After some time, they came upon an antiquated control panel. Harrsk activated it and with a hiss, the door opened to reveal a much more orderly scenery as opposed to the long derelict tunnels. This must be the fortress, Elicia thought. Despite having moved away from the conflict in the tunnels, a peculiar air of uncertainty loomed within the halls of Fortress Imperator.

"HALT!", a stormtrooper ordered. Why would NIO troops be stopping their own? It didn't take long to realize the plainclothes outfits of the traditionally clandestine COMPNOR man didn't help, and she wasn't affiliated with the NIO herself. An almost cocky Harrsk urged the trooper to verify his credentials, and after a brief standoff, they were in the clear.

The two approached a turbolift, but before entering, Jaeger turned to warn Elicia of what lie ahead. The implications were clear. If the Bastion were to stand under the banners under the New Imperial Order, Paxxus must end.

"Your choice, Lady. Will you cross the line?"

With a nearly invisible smirk, Elicia boarded the turbolift.

"Bloodshed and the upper class have always gone hand in hand."

 

[Runi Verin]

LOCATION: Ravelin, Bastion
OBJECTIVE: Repel invaders, escape the planet.
GEAR: Vornskr Mk8 Scattergun, Tal Oya’karir, Muun'bajir, Phrik Bracers, Terentatek Duster, Asheran Armorweave, Taak’tabi, Nwûl, Tinfoil Hat
ALLIES: NIO (Tangiably)
ENEMIES: Ingrid L'lerim-Vandiir | TSE

Runi blinked at the casual mention of the Zambranos, although more out of simple surprise than any sense of anger at the obvious bait. The number of people that knew of the spacer's familial connection with the Sith dynasty were few and far between, which was still more than Runi would have liked, so her attacker was far more well informed than she had anticipated. Then again, Adrian had been far more connected within the Sith Empire than she had anticipated when crossing paths with the Sith Lord. The Eternal Empire, too, judging from the bounty that was being slapped her way.

Kark, just who was he married to? Tt.

"So, Adrian was married, huh? If I had known, I would have sent a condolence card ahead of time." She replied mockingly, as she shifted and pivoted out of the way of an oncoming shadow. Her body moving on pure reflex honed over decades of fighting in alleyways such as this. "You might have known him while he was alive, but those final moments... Those final moments were they were all mine, 'lek?"

Another blow careened off her guard, her cybernetic arm absently brushing the shadow aside with the back of the duraplast knuckles as she continued to focus her senses. Trying to pinpoint her opponent through the diversionary strikes. On Dantooine it had been a simple case of shifting her vision into the infrared spectrum, but she doubted it would be quite as easy here. If this woman... this creature... was comprised of shadows, like the Sith she had faced so many years ago, she needed to come at it much smarter.

She would need to...

There. Runi could feel her target now. Feel the hum that snaked around the edges of the spaceport, the electric potential that simmered within the wires and components. Feel the way that they responded to her gentle probing with the force. If she could just...

A blow scraped her cheek as she failed to move away in time. With her reinforced body, it was barely a stinging rebuke, yet the force enough to elicit a feral growl of irritation from the kiffar as she continued to push through. Her attention divided with her task at hand and baiting her would be assassin.

"Tell me, do you know what his last words were?" As one of the emergency lights on the wall above the alleyway flickered dimly, the Kiffar's smile became drawn out and predatory. She had control of it now. She just needed a few more seconds... "How about the sound he made as my knife slipped between his ribs? How the warm, slick blood that spurted between his fingers as he tried to hold it back?"

She barked a laugh, wild and unchecked. Her head shaking dismissively. "Cheeka, I might not know where you are now, but I know where you weren't then. With him. You left him to die. All. Alone. Some wife you turned out to be."

The final word was punctuated with a scream and whine as the full array of emergency lights in the alleyway suddenly flared into a blinding wall of light as electricity surged through them. Washing the length and breadth of the enclosed area in a white light that forced the spacer to close her eyes even as she jumped backwards, hands jutting forward as her ammunition belt for her scatter gun flew from her side and beelined for where the largest grouping of shadows had been.

"Epar osi'kyr!" Runi's voice called out as the shells exploded in unison, unleashing the mother of all salvos into the duracrete walls and (hopefully) Adrian's apparent shadowy widow. When the smoke and the light cleared, with those few bulbs that survived the scattergun explosion simply bursting from the overcharged circuits, the spacer was already moving away at a breakneck speed. Eager to put more room between herself and the shadow assassin, ducking around the corner of the building and sprinting for that maintenance door.

As if instinctively she knew that it would take need more than fancy lights and cheap tricks if she wanted to handle this demagolka.

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

Location: In the tunnels. Lost.
Tags:
Pom Stych Tivé
Darth Ledgermayne

​

Even from the outside I could hear it.

And I knew that it wasn't going to be long till my men and I saw combat. Adorned in my black robes I unclipped the lightsaber by my side and activated the weapon in hand. A blade short from the emitter with a blaze of crimson light. I could see my own Shadow troopers turn their heads in alert and tilt their head in question. Men who were trained to hunt sith with such colored weapons. And this was no such time to explain to them what exactly I was.

" On me! We move in now!" They fell in position and readied behind my lead. Directly ahead of us was one of the tunnel entrances and we rushed in. I was expecting close quarters combat yes, but the pitch black was different. If it wasnt for my lightsaber I would of been blind. The tunnels were filled with thick jet black mist of strange origin. My initial reaction was to hold my breath but I short found out it was no gas.

It was a poison of the mind. It was so subtle too.

The deeper I got the more anxious I began to feel. Shifting into a state of paranoia. My senses were already heightened due to combat and my inherent Anti-force sensitivity. It was loud down here. Thunder clapped from far tunnels, women screamed for help and the sounds of the dead seemed to stay on repeat. A broken record of agony. Then there was the monstrous growls and the strange creatures in the dark. Crystalline sithspawn that ambushed my men and I. They did not last long. I carved them into a creation of my own. Chunks of rubble.

And that was I continued to do. I must of took a dozen or so turns before looking back and realizing two of my own men were gone. We were lost, under stress and under attack. " Report! All Shadows now." I barked poising my blade near me and leaning it toward the men behind me. " Were all thats left sir." One of the troops responded and looked back to another. Stoically I gazed at them, making sure to sow no emotion but inside I blamed myself.

I counted wrong...there were only two left!

Before I could give out a response we were ambushed again. I was swarmed by the creatures. This is ridiculous! I said to myself move forward and circling back around to counter attack. I couldn't see my Shadow troopers, my own men. I could only assume they were fine and that the main force had been lured to me! If that was the case...Then why did I hear my mens cries for help over and over again. They called out for help and though I could not seen them their very essence seemed to linger around me. Phantoms of woeful regret.

The voices stabbed at my mind more than I could bare.

I dont think you know what its like to see your own men get torn apart. Their bodies mutilated by monsters. Even in death they were not free. The sithspawn continued to beat their bodies. Witnessing this took something inside me that I dont think I'll ever get back. Every emotion I felt was amplified in here. In this darkness. I didn't just feel sad for their loses. I felt morose! I felt sorrow in every inch of my being and still I could hear them cry out to me as if it was moments ago. It was crippling me slowly and breaking me from the inside out. Then I was suddenly made aware of more conflicts around me.

As if the sea of darkness I wandered mocked me and taunted me.

Jon!

Commander!

Joneleth!

AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

I was exasperated. My very movement were becoming irate. I could feel my jaw clench tight and grow stern looking at the scene. There was no thoughts in this moment. Nor would there be, I couldn't think I was maniacal towards the Sithspawn and exacted their destruction with the utmost priority. Apathetically I extended my hand toward the swarm ravaging the Shadow troopers and unleashed myself.

There was a flash of light. Arching hot white tendrils connecting with the swarm and sucking them dry of the force that gave them life. But I didnt stop there, I wasn't satisfied with draining the force from them and re-energizing myself. No! I wanted it gone. Purged from existence. And so I pushed, subjecting the adjacent area to my will. I let the force of my galaxy clash with the very darkness that surrounded me, The darkside and an aspect of the force of this galaxy. The results were no different than a electron and positron colliding.

Annihilation.

The entire energy flashed blinding white and then nothing. It stabbed my eyes for miliseconds. It forced me to shut them, but when I opened them again, I could see far into the tunnel. I could see again. I could think again. I no longer felt the waves of darkness and its effects. It and the sithspawn in my area were gone.