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

[Felix Astermo]

Location: Tunnels beneath Ravelin, close to Library.
Objective: Recover abandoned artefacts, slay the unworthy.
Equipment: Sith Warblade, Unspecified Talismans, Glorious Golden Mask.
Writing With: Elpsis Kerrigan

The cold worked, that much was sure, the sudden absence of the heat she so expertly wielded doing much, much more to provoke a negative reaction than the greatest roaring inferno he could conjure. A weakness revealed and exploited, his course set to drive a metaphorical wedge into the crack.

Before he could truly capitalise on the opportunity, however, his danger sense flared - enough to brace himself and harden his will, but not prevent the burst of telekinetic force from making contact with his back and legs, a pained grunt leaving his throat as something cracked, bringing with it a bit of a limp. Fully broken or not? Mattered little, not pushing forward would bring with it greater injuries yet.

Concentration slipping somewhat, the temperature limped back towards something more normal before stopping at a bit below than zero standard degrees, Aurum all but snarling as he wrangled back control, shunting the stray heat into distant walls that promptly began to radiate a sullen red.

It would normalise fully soon, but not immediately. He needed every edge he could get.

Moving forward at a steady pace, if one that somewhat favoured his right side, the Golden Magus made a slashing gesture with his blade, the mystical focus glowing from spidery runes as every bit of available moisture condensed into a slender disk of razor-sharp ice, which promptly launched forward.

He fully expected her to block it, of course, but should she use her blade or the like it would shatter, showering her with shards of alchemised ice.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Ravelin, Bastion
Objective: To find everything that was once Adrian’s property and rescue them if they still exist. Avenge AMCO !
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tag: Runi Verin

Background music:
Sabaton - Angels Calling (feat. Apocalyptica)​

Ingrid was thoroughly prepared for Adrian's killers, and for this, not only her own imperial intelligence, but Nite was a great help. And the Sith Empire, Joycelyn Zambrano , confirmed that Runi was indeed a member of the bloodline. Last but not least, the Sith Empress also offered to help hunt down the Kiffar. Did not respond to Kiffar's words, but this made her wonder if the woman knew that the Eternal Empire put her and her partner to the Wanted list. The last moments…

The last moments when she couldn’t tell her husband she loved him, couldn’t say goodbye. She will do it, will do it when she has found a way to bring him back to life. In the afterlife, by the way, Ingrid did, promised him when Adrian handed over the soul shard, and her soul shard stayed there with the Sith Lord. Felt Adrian's arms around her again, this time the four arms, he did this with his shape-shifting abilities to hug her in an X-shape as they were practicing on the Zeltros at the first time. Above all, she missed the Sith Lord, the emptiness in her soul, like a black hole. The red-haired woman felt guilty because Tubrok's love alone was not enough; she needed both of their love.

Shuddered at Runi's words, not because of anger and hatred, as soon as the slightest emotion of that kind arose in her, Ingrid immediately suppressed it. The pain, however, was such that she could not. The physics were simpler. Didn’t know what Adrian’s last word was, but she imagined “I don’t want to die” or a denial of the fact of death if he was aware of what was happening to him. Trembled again, the feeling of the invisible arms getting even tighter, now felt as if her husband was stroking her back or her hair trying to comfort or soothe her.

More tears streamed down her face, yes, she let him die because didn't feel where he was. Maybe it was this woman who caused her not to find Adrian? Before she kills her, she will ask. Since then, the red-haired woman has blamed herself every minute that it was her fault. But the woman was wrong, she was there with him in the Netherworld, and Adrian was here in the material world with her. She envied the other woman for a moment that she can feel emotions so easily that if Ingrid had been able to do the same, this part of town might already be in ruins. But no, and she did not absorb negative energies from others, nor did steal emotions.

And the other woman attacked at this point as the electricity hit the wall and danced along it with a strong light, Ingrid moved. She wasn’t in the shadows, they were farther away, the Empress wasn’t so stupid as to expose herself to such danger. In an instant changed her eyes so that the strong light would not disturb her, a retracting layer appeared under her helmet in front of her eyes and her pupils narrowed. Saw her opponent close her eyes and shoot where the shadows are. They were shattered by lights and shots. And Runi started at high speed.

That was the moment Ingrid had been waiting for, speechless. Maybe her soul was in pieces too, in a million pieces, though compared to Adrian it was only figuratively, but the woman was still a skilled intelligence officer and assassin. Someone who is perfectly in control of her emotions. That's why could stop herself and she is not attacking because of the provocations. Reached into the Force and teleported invisibly in front of Runi, where she ran. Stretched out the vibroblade, at exactly the angle and height where AMCO had previously suffered his first injury.

Her blade was imbued with Force, so hoped she would be able to break through the armour and injure her opponent, the poison would also take effect in this case. If she wounded her opponent, if not, then would drop the invisibility from herself, now it turned out where she was, she did not waste her energy on it. If needed, she will hide herself again in such a way.

"You're wrong, he's still here with me, and I'm there with him in the Netherworld, I'll take care of him there. I know how he felt, I was hurt by the injuries he got. I was bleeding in the same way as he did, I suffered all the injuries he suffered. I felt he was terrified and afraid. I felt how he died, how his soul tore into small pieces. I felt everything, and a part of me died with him there. Did you look into his eyes? How did you feel to kill an injured, dreaded young man who was unable to defend himself? Who was unable to fight? And how did you confuse the Force-bond between the two of us so I couldn’t find him, just after the last minute?" there was no anger or hatred in her voice, only military coldness and mostly only emptiness, as if a dead woman had said these words.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

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

When Elpsis was training with the Order of Fire and the Qadiri, she had been told to imagine elemental abilities like a diamond. Each element had an opposite. Fire and water/ice, air and earth. Enyo had bonded with fire and could harness earth and air, but not ice. Right now, fire and ice warred against each other in the dark tunnel. She felt a surge of satisfaction when she heard something crack inside the Sith. But his power was potent enough to drive the temperature back down again.

There was a cold chill in the air. Frost was spreading on the ground and walls. Her armour was temperature-regulated and her inner flame still burnt, albeit fainter, but she nonetheless felt the discomfort she usually felt in cold environments. But she stood her ground, amid the buzz in her ears. Suddenly her danger senses flared. The Sith sorcerer was advancing. She saw his alchemised blade slash through the air. He was too far away to strike her, so this had to be some sorcery at work. Her assumption was confirmed when a disk of ice came shooting her way.

Acting on instinct, Elpsis swung Inferno, burning through it. And she proceeded to be showered with shards of alchemised ice. Her Phrik armour was tough and sturdy, so many of the ice spikes were blocked by the thick plating, shattering upon impact. However, this did not apply to all of them. Here and there, they struck joints or gaps, causing small cuts and lacerations. She grit her teeth in pain when her thigh was lacerated, drawing blood. A shard struck in the spot between her helmet and chest piece. This was just over the collarbone with the trapezius muscle. Pain surged through her, forcing a cry from her throat. She staggered and there was blood seeping from her wound. It hurt to move her arm to that side.

With the pain came fury. Burning fury. It expanded outward as blazing heat spread through the tunnel, causing the temperature to rise rapidly and banishing the icy cold. The cracks inside her features flared intensely. And the fire inside her became a weapon once more, as she fashioned a thermic lance and sent the beam of scalding heat soaring towards the Sith.

 

[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 Halketh Noel Strasza

<"Rhone to Blue-Heart Alpha! Sith-spawn to the south, bearing down on our position from almost a mile out.">

'You ready to move, soldier?', Barran asked the young soldier with the,"Foxhound Eight" callsign, tapping the stranger's helmet with the back of index-finger's knuckle like he was knocking on a homeowner's door. The troops had spotted movement off to the southwest, hearing the sith-spawn before tracing the noises to their origin and following the sound to the visible mobs of malformed creatures that gave them cause for concern. The tanks would be slow in reaching them, but Cataphracts had made it in time to offer heavy resistance against the mobs who were charging on them, so the Lord-Major would be calm in his attempts to rouse the Dark Trooper to his feet.

<"Guardian Three to Blue-Heart Alpha! They're veering off leftwards, but ah've seen them playin' this game afore! We need to move immediately, Milord.">
'Think you can fight again yet, Foxhound? Got a name?'

As if shaken from the stupor immediately, a jolt from somewhere within had awakened the stranger to coherence once more, standing with a grunt to eventually tower over the Lord-Major. Standing to attention upon seeing Barran's rank, the Dark Trooper responded,'Yessir, the others call me Karelin when we're off-duty.', before falling silent once more. Clearly keeping it short and concise by habit, though showing a great deal of trained, militaristic discipline in the process, Barran couldn't help but feel more appreciation for the Dark Trooper's receptiveness than he ever would for the lad's training. Passing him a spare rifle, Erskine would give the stranger a shot at survival until his own weapons had been recovered, a gesture the Dark Trooper was visibly grateful for, saluting the Lord-Major and offering a handshake straight after.

'A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Karelin. I'm Erksine Barran, Lord-Major of the-'
<"-CONTACT TO THE SOUTH!!!! WEAPONS-FREE, OPEN FIRE!!!!">

The screeching of sith-spawn being bombarded by carbonite reverberated almost as loudly as the Cataphracts' turrets in full-barrage, rifles' muzzle-flashes and AT rockets followed soon after, bolstering the efforts of the Cataphracts with the combined efforts of their own. Leon would immediately move to cover the Lord-Major's approach with rifle primed and ready, nodding to Erskine as he slowly paced ahead, making his intent to guard Barran as clear as any Dark Trooper could whilst under fire. Running to the front, the Lord-Major and the Dark Trooper noticed that the pressure offered by the Blue-Hearts was proving too much for the two mobs of Sith-spawn, a sight that brought hope to Karelin's heart once more.
Aht's mare like it, lad. We'll get you back to your auld ways in nae time.

'Barran to Guardian One! Conserve ammunition for conventional foes! The tanks can take it from here!'

Strewn all across the surrounding area, after just twenty minutes of battle-given to them, a fresh layer of Sith-spawn corpses could be seen from every angle of their static line. Genuinely surprised by this, Karelin nodded appreciatively as he exclaimed,'Outstanding work, sir! I didn't know Blue-Hearts could wage war like this!', which went over just as well with Shugg and Rhone as it did with Barran. However, the young Dark Trooper's demeanour had become grim once more, making a show of pointing towards the sky to the south as he muttered,'We've got company, sir.'

Flying northwards, through all the smoke and mistiness of the burning Bastion skies, were a large grouping of heavy enemy personnel-carriers, approaching at speed and already launching all their firepower at the troops and ordnance below. This would bode badly for any armoured presence in the area, as swarms of difficult-to-track infantry units could inflict untold damage from positions intended to aid their envelopment efforts; not pleased at all by this revelation, Barran clenched his jaw again, but kept his mind clear of all frustrations for the sake of the others. However, as he was readying himself to spring the others into action, the near-deafening cacophony of tank turrets made a continual crescendo of firepower from behind them, unleashing an endless stream of destruction on the approaching airships in the distance as their allies' ordnance flew just a few metres above their heads.

'Barran ti CC One! FIRE AT WILL!!!! FIRE AT WILL!!!!'

The proceeding impacts on the air-transports would light the skies above with a frightening, though rare beauty, such that pleasantly took all the idled infantrymen by surprise. Though some managed to veer away and vanish into the shroud again, most of the transport ships had either been completely destroyed in the air or were seen falling without any control over their descent; yet more Sith-trooper airships were seen following the same ill-fated trajectory, like lambs to the slaughter, completely unaware that both Lord Halketh's and Lord Erskine's tanks would be able to adjust for farther-reaching barrages every single time. Karelin's return to his unit was proving more entertaining than he could possibly have anticipated, and it was proving to be a healthy distraction from the thoughts that had been plaguing the young Dark Trooper's mind.
​

​

 

[Darth Daiara]

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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 Dagoth | 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.

Bastion Academy FEL REDOUBT| Zaavik Dagoth | Closed


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."

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.




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.




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.

Ethereal forms appeared along the edge of her vision, teens in dark robes and men in white suits. The deeper she sunk into the power, the clearer their forms grew, visible only to the girl they haunted.

She slammed her fist into the door, frustration boiling over as he cut her off to the other side.

He spoke with reason, but the time where she could hear it had come and passed. "Shut up," she hissed again, the words she was forced to endure causing lashes of pain. Her saber pierced the door, molten magma forming around the end that burned its way through to him.

"You think just because you read a coin you know how I feel. You do not." She gritted her teeth against the sweltering heat, muscles flexing as she started the slow process of cutting a hole.

"But you will."

 

[Seela Leini]

Location: Space, Bastion System
Equipment: Sith-Imperial Armada Flight Suit Mk. II │ “Judicator” Adaptive Battle Rifle
Fighter: Sith-Imperial TIE Interceptor - Dancer Ten
Allies: TSE ( Onrai Moff Drybis Lyken Grand Moff Aut-X)
Enemies: NIO (Fiolette Fortan Var Koon Savoh Muska Naier Rambeigh Scourge Harz Gordon ) │ GA ( Dracken Pryce )
Theme: I CAN'T STOP ME - TWICE

The hull of the Gorgon grew larger in her viewport with each passing moment, but 2121 did not sit idle or paralyzed within the chamber of her machine. While communications and sensors were either jammed or down, the strand-cast quickly compensated by on her interceptor’s aural sensors and the laser tracking modules, temporarily deactivating the jammed sensors with a few dancing taps on the control array. From there, she immediately processed that the bandit was moving onto her tail, presumably seeking to acquire a guns-based firing solution, based on their sudden acceleration.

While she had in fact regained control of her craft, she was still on a trajectory to strike the hull of the Gorgon. In doing so, she hoped to create a convincing illusion for the enemy pilot, one of her interceptor still being out of control due to the extreme concussive force from the detonation of the proton torpedo. However, selling the illusion would also demand that she take an extreme risk, one that could very well turn out in favor of the enemy if she made even a single error in execution.

And so, she slammed the ion stream deflection controls, hard. The forceful, aggressive action threw her interceptor into a spin that set the void of space into a whirlwind of dancing colors. Once more, SV-2121 felt the distinct pangs of fear and uncertainty as she stared out of the viewport, the urge to pull on the ejection handle growing stronger with each rapid heartbeat as her ribs pressed painfully against her lungs. The emotions went unsuppressed, but the voice of the Master in her mind also lent her strength. In accordance with his gentle words, she embraced the passion of her emotions, translating them into the fire of action as her interceptor spun one more rotation around on its axis without shifting trajectory, before abruptly ceasing the spiraling motion at a point where her TIE was pointed towards the exact position of the bandit based on information from the laser tracking system and faced in roughly the opposite direction of her craft's travel, cannons trained to fire directly on the pursuing bandit.

Almost instantly, eight energized beams of green fire were cast forth from the wing-mounted cannons at the maximum rate, each aimed to strike the pursuing bandit directly in the “eye” of their interceptor...

 

[Crane Baxa]

It had been a long ten minutes, going through the Hospital with the little girl in tow. Ten long minutes, hearing someone grieve their own loss that pained his own heart. Ten long minutes...of careful preparation in getting his old equipment back. Ten whole minutes...of planning their next move. The girl had now went slowly silent in the last minute, possibly finally going into a small shock or finally not having any more tears to shed. The recently reborn and revived Chagrian could only look down at the human girl as he placed his own blaster pistols and old shotgun around his shoulder, looking down upon her as she finally looked back up at him. Was she thinking of him as a bad person? Was there a small bit of awe from watching him move so awkwardly like a newborn child?

Crane had no time to truly process that as he slowly knelt down before her to pick her up, only for her to back off from him. She did not even speak to him at all since they first met yet...yet nothing. He was not good with kids, he never even had a child of his own. They seemed rather fragile and through his life...he knew it was just to dangerous to even try and adopt one. However, fate seemed destined for something different, the Force guiding this one moment. He already failed the new Grayson...what was there to turn to? Finding his own words, he kept himself kneeled and spoke to her with kindness and honesty.

"I know you just been through a lot in the last few hours...but I need to trust me. Right now the only thing between those bad men and you...is me. I am going to get you out of here and keep you safe. But you have to listen to me and do exactly as I say if we are to both get out of here without those bad men in black hurting us...alright?"

"O-ok Horned Man."

For a brief moment, he felt himself transported back eight hundred years ago to the Exchange. First starting out, every higher up that finally broke through the ranks was given a nickname. Ranging from Hooded Man, Bald Man, Crazy Man....Crane was at the time, the Rat Man. It was an alias but also a way to identify each other in case of emergency. Now he felt like he was given that new nickname...Horned Man. It sounded a bit bad on paper but...for a child to say? He thought nothing of it, innocence is bliss. Slowly, he got over to her again and this time, was successful at picking up the darker haired child, hoisting her up to his chest while making sure she could not see away from his chest.

"Alright...keep your eyes closed till we leave this place."

Now his new goal...was finding a starship and avoiding both sides of this conflict...though possibly knowing the Sith Empire, may give him some safe passage. Then again, he was a four foot furball the last time he met them, how in the world would he convince them he changed into an over six foot giant?

 

[Ragnar the Blooded]

Location: Ravelin, Bastion
Equipment: Saberstaff, Imperial Knight Armour
Tags: Iasha Rha , Dimitri Voltura, Kesran Opadal , Kolson Vrask , UX-0626 , Noel Strasza
Engaging: Alina Tremiru

Ragnar's form leapt from rock to rock, force training allowing him an agility and balance to climb at a breakneck speed. Through the building reduced to rubble, he crested the top of the structure. Realizing it to be one of many that had been used to block paths in a similar fashion to the redoubt that he had been holding earlier, he heard the sounds of blaster fire in the near distance.

Orange orbs followed the source of the anti-air fire that carved through the air, ripping apart Sith Empire dropships that plagued the skies. Leaping down the other side of the building and to the streets below, Ragnar continued his sprint to his next engagement.

Following in the wake of a struck dropship, he watched as it nosedived to the streets. Smoke flaring up from behind it, it disappeared behind a string of buildings. In his way? A squad of Sith troopers that didn't yet realize he was there. What with the built in cloaking device in the Imperial Knight armour, it took little effort in hitting the generator on his belt and vanishing as he crossed the street once they passed.

Effectively invisible, he made sure to watch the Sith troopers continue down the empty street. Booted foot struck something. The rock bounced across the street. As the street was devoid of life, the skipping of the rock echoed as it skittered across the street. Finally coming to a stop somewhere in the shadows, Ragnar froze entirely, his scarlet features tensing as he eyed the continuously moving Sith troopers ahead. Continuing down the street, they didn't seem to hesitate in their march deeper into Ravelin.

A pent up breath was released in the form of a sigh, his hand hovering near the portable generator on his waist. It felt like the instant that he had flipped that switch, his danger sense flared, a crimson flurry of bolts whipping past his face as he flinched instinctively to get out of their path. Spinning about to see where they came from, his right hand shot forth as his left snatched his staff from his belt. The Force was his eyes, and as soon as he found the source of what he was looking for, his hand yanked back towards him, dragging the Sith trooper before lurching towards them. He stumbled, blaster gone, dropped due to the abrupt nature of the pull. His knife coming free, he leapt into the fray with the Imperial Knight.

Ragnar was reckless, uncaring. The emitter of his saberstaff crashed into the shoulder of the troopers knife, and when he swung his arm to swipe at the Zabrak's face, he found that his reach was too short. Saberstaff providing a longer reach, the top end burst to life, searing through the limb at the shoulder, and then carving downwards into a halfmoon to almost split the soldier in half. The scent of burnt flesh instantly met his nostrils, an

The sound of booted feet slapping the duracrete streets met his ears. Snapping his head to the side, he leapt into the shadows, continuing on his path. Some random street wasn't an objective that needed to be protected.

​

There it was.

The ship that he had seen crashing behind the buildings.

He ventured closer, some ways out, but he closed in rapidly all the same. Approaching the shuttle was, Alina Tremiru . Ragnar's presence in the Force reached out. The Force lighting the way for him as he let the Force see for him. A burgeoning darkness, was all that he needed to see. It reminded him of himself, prior to his joining with the Imperial Force Corps.

But that part of him... The part of him that had been raised Sith... It was gone.

Discipline, Will, and Order... Those were the things that replaced it. Holding that internal shame, that darkness at bay.

Sure of purpose, his right hand shot up, his left hand squeezing around his elbow to stabilize his aim. Without a helmet, there was no technology to help him guide the shot. But, he had since come to terms with his lacking ability in the realm of ranged weaponry. Skills like the Force, and martial prowess in close quarters combat were superior in every aspect.

The wrist laser sparked to life, firing at the Sith Apprentice. Directly behind her, he was in her blind spot if she didn't already recognize someone was there behind her. As was typical for their force using kind, they were apt to sense these things, and after he figred, he was already in the midst of pulling his saberstaff free for what felt like the millionth time that day.

 

[Noel Strasza]

C R I M S O N T I T H E
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
In the company of 8 DOOM DIVISION TROOPERS

OPPOSITION : // Iasha Rha Luna Terrik Dimitri Voltura Alina Tremiru Kesran Opadal UX-0626
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 Ragnar the Untested

The thunderous collision of anti-air scatter smashing into the looming skyscrapers and shattering the hulls of the dropships overhead caught her attention amidst the cacophony of chaos; successful, successive hits on target. She knew she could count on the Carlaci boys to bring those ships to heel. ​

"Deader, Avalanche checking in- we've got confirmed hits on targets. Bogies dropping a klick to the southwest, over." ​

The cyborg punched another magazine into her rifle, nodding her head to the rhythm of the grind and pound. "I copy," she answered after opening her communication channels with a brief flick of the button nestled into her gauntlet, "I'll wrap to intercept targets and confirm KIAs, over." She moved quickly then, firing off a few final shots into the ranks of pushing S-IMP troopers, wetting her steely lower lip in anticipation for the conflict she hoped she would find at the crash sites. ​

"Grab one of the jumpspeeders, Snowdrift's reporting the streets that way are getting tight. Don't overextend yourself, over." ​

"Thanks for the help, Avalanche, I'll rally back with you boys when I get a chance, out." Major slung her rifle and darted backward, whipping around to rush through the debris scattering the steps of the fortress and towards the barricade guarding the light vehicles placed for quick deployment. She looked skyward as she swung a leg over the seat, watching the fizzling smoke trail streaking through the churning air. The lights of her HUD maneuvered into shapes, outlining a projected path of trajectory, giving her some digitized idea of where it was she needed to go. ​

"Hold up now, Major, if you think we're letting you go carve them outta their hidey holes by your lonesome, you're mistaken." A distorted voice drew her focus back to the ground and she blinked, snapping her head around to the white-clad Carlaci troopers clustering to mount up alongside her, "We've got the men to spare and the ammo to back it."​

Strasza furrowed her hidden brows at them, absorbing the winged, skull-like insignias branded across their shoulder guards and helmets. Doom Division. Her old company. If she was going to back herself with any lot, it damn well have better been one as Force Dead as she was. It made her chuckle briefly, a sound barely heard over the wailing shrieks of blaster fire and crashing infrastructure: "Well now, it's been a minute since I've ridden with any from your company."​

"Best of the best Carlac's got to offer." His voice was familiar, distantly, but she couldn't place the swelling warmth of camaraderie rising in her augmented core. She really needed to speak with Julian Qar about the memories her last operation fragmented.​

"I'm familiar with Doom Division," she stated in response, drowning out whatever response the trooper gave her as she fired up the engines of her bike, "Let's get moving then, we've got Sith to kill." ​

The cyborg stomped her craft into gear and whipped around, zipping down over the side of the steps and blazing a path through the warring streets, chasing after the blood trail left by the crashing ships.​

"Vandal-Actual this is Deader, me and some Doom Div boys are riding out to intercept the wreckage. We could use some back-up, over." The warmachine placed her call, augmented tone betraying the fact she was chomping at the bit to sink her teeth into some action.​

Warnings blared across her HUD as her combat chassis ground and twisted on itself, sealing down beneath her armor as she prepared herself for what she hoped would be a close-quarters encounter. The fragmented, glitching faces of every man and woman she had led up through spiraling death in their climb inside of the fortress all those months ago flashed through her mind in blinding rush, anchoring her to the fury she fostered and allowed to boil in her artificial blood. She didn't care who was in those dropships. She didn't care if they had nothing to do with her squadron's annihilation or her tumble from the top of the fort. Nothing to do with her being forced into this mockery of a human shell. Nothing to do with the suffering imposed upon her for the betterment of her faction. ​

That crimson tithe was overdue, and it was time to pay.​

Her festering brood was disturbed when her targeting sensors wailed in full alarm, blaring proximity warnings. They were close. She cranked on the throttle recklessly until the metal buckled beneath her strength, groaning in protest. She didn't care what she found ahead of them. Blood would spill- be it New Imperial or Sith Imperial, it all tasted the same. Taking the corner too sharply ground her hoverbike up onto the decimated sidewalk, stumbling across the debris and she leaped from it the second the smoking dropship came into view, nestled down between the towers, and tucked curtly into a crater of destruction. Her boots scuffed against the broken ground and she sprinted, outrunning those men scrambling behind her to cover.​

The droid socketed into her shoulder unfurled its blades, snapping at the air briefly as it swept the interior of the ship for vital signs. ​

There were survivors. ​

Good.​

With the men behind her poised to cover, the warmachine lunged towards the dented door of the craft and dug her fingers into the hull. Those charged power cells surging in her wrists torqued, spiraling in rapid reaction to charge her arms with the necessary strength, expending what she had stored earlier, and with a guttural shout, Strasza strained against the seal. Artificial muscle torqued heavily beneath her armor, flexing against the groaning betaplast as myomers expanded and constricted in the same moment, firing with rapid stimulation. The door groaned. It creaked. It strained against the will opposed on it until it could offer nothing more, and through her clenching teeth, Strasza bellowed a warcry. The door crumpled, buckling in on itself as she forced it open, crunching it inward to expose the rows of seats within the dark interior. ​

Bloody corpses still strapped-in lined the sides, but these were nothing. Inconsequential. ​

What she focused on at that moment, as she stepped back and drew the scattergun from its sling across the small of her back, were the empty seats.​

The distinctive humming whirr of lightsaber blades. ​

"We got survivors!" One of the Doom Division troopers to her flank called as they surrounded the ship, training their scatterguns on the crash in preparation. ​

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." Major's augmented, distorted voice droned into the exposed interior of the ship. She stood there, unwavering, unmoving, in the collapsed doorway. ​

TL;DR :// Major Strasza and 8 Force Dead shocktroopers from Doom Division travel to recover the wreckage of one of the crashed dropships. Strasza rips the door off while her men surround it and they wait for whoever to survived to emerge. A very blood hungry Strasza is just outside of the open door of the ship, poised to face whoever may be inside.​

 

[Onrai]

Space
Allies: Moff Drybis Lyken Thaelius Seela Leini Grand Moff Aut-X
Enemies: Var Koon Savoh Muska Naier Rambeigh Len Vert Scourge Harz Fiolette Fortan Gallius Orcana Dracken Pryce Gordon

As the Sovereigns engaged the fleet of Scourge Harz , pumping beam cannon, mass driver, and baradium missile fire into the enemy ships, the Whelm, having already had its hull grazed by the damaged Cuirassier, evidently had not done enough to the smaller ship to effectively prevent it from being a threat, as around it came again for another strike. The Sovereign design was a mimic, a near half-scale visage of the original Sovereign class used by the Galactic Empire many years ago. Its bridge was small and close to the hull. The captain of the vessel ordered the ship to be tilted up - a crunch of more hull plating forcing the Pride of the Emperor upwards and preventing its hull from making contact with the bridge. The crew aboard the ship was heavily jarred as a result, and more of the battlecruiser's hull plating was dented and dinged by the assault - but the closeness gave the opportunity for the Whelm's super-heavy beam weapons to fire at the belly of the ship as it travelled over head - whether the near-point-blank range attack would pierce the crippled cruiser and leave it a shambling wreck hurtling away from the battle was unclear, but what was clear was the need for the Whelm to be docked for repairs after this battle. The remaining battlecruisers continued to fire at much closer range against Des's fleet, where the secondary batteries of light beam cannons could be brought to bear more effectively.

The strike on Savoh Muska's Arquitens cruiser was quite beneficial - Onrai was surprised that a smaller ship had managed to survive the blast of a dreadnought-scale orbital bombardment cannon, but the gun soon recharged and again fired a powerful beam of energy at the ship rising to greetit, ignoring for the time being the enemy ship's associated corvettes. Such small ships were like fly to a cattle, and the goddess viewed them as little direct threat. Only after the launch of fighters and bombers would the Gorgon's secondary guns focus on the smaller ships.

The Gorgon itself, the location of the Rae Sloane still known, once more launched off a tremendous burst of energy from its main gun at the position of the Rae Sloane, the weapon's fire guided through optical targeting directly correlating the visible location of the ship with the course of the beam weapon. The main goal was to knock whatever infernal system on Fiolette Fortan's infamous juggernaught had been used to render this area of space a chaotic and impossible-to-communicate mess out, enabling better fleet communication. Though the Sith did allow for a minimal level of tactical communication, the ships in her squadron were very much operating on their own captains' orders - and a comms blackout would be nightmarish for the fighter squadrons being held in reserve behind three doors worth of molecularly bonded armor.

The scout of Seela Leini , damaged as it was, would have been nothing more than a pinprick to the Gorgon, but the near-impact of a Sith fighter further reinvigorated the anti-fighter beam weapons. Lances of green energy pored from the dreadnought's hull at the approaching Interceptor, seeking to hit it at best or deviate it from its course against a Sith pilot at worst. Though the woman had not been on board the Gorgon for long, Onrai wasn't the sort of woman who wanted to see people like that wasted.

Var Koon's ships had evidently received minimal damage, even from the bombardment of seeker baradium missiles and the long-range lanch of the UBeams. So it was that the formation of Sovereign Elites moved forward to directly engage the enemy vessels - now within combat range, their main guns and missile launchers were joined by the mass drivers and lighter beam cannons that covered the warship's hull, along with broadsides of super-heavy beam fire equivalent to a Saturn-type Battleship's own main armament. Closer-range combat was more lethal than longer-range combat for a Sovereign - though like their compatriots, the fighters had not yet been launched. The petard droid fighters had evidently been destroyed or rendered nonfunctional - a boon given their risk to battlecruisers, leaving only more ponderous bombers that would likely prove easy prey for the focus-fire of the anti-fighter beams.

The final Sovereign Elites moved ever closer to Dracken Pryce 's dreadnought, weapons recharging and striking out at the behemoth once again. This would be their test - if they could drive off the Ouroboros, then the Sovereign's design as a dreadnought-slayer would be proven sound in Sith-Imperial fleet doctrine. This would hopefully allow wider acceptance within the greater Imperial fleet of such ships - it wasn't as though there were many more people than Constantinius Zambrano who had flagged such a ship, after all.

Spoiler

Vanessa's Command Fleet
Class | Name | Length | Shields | Hull
Gorgon-class Star Dreadnought | Gorgon | 10000m | 96 | 100(Attacking the Rae Sloane with UBeams, forward beams, mass drivers using optical targeting, attacking Savoh Muska's Arquitens with orbital bombardment cannons)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Heresiarch | 5000m | 98 | 100(Protecting Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Despot | 5000m | 99 | 100(Protecting Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Autarch | 5000m | 95 | 100(Protecting Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Martinet | 5000m | 95 | 100(Protecting Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Sovereign | 5000m | 94 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Harbinger | 5000m | 97 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Guardian | 5000m | 94 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Mandator | 5000m | 95 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Caudillo | 5000m | 96 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Assertor | 5000m | 93 | 100(Engaging Var Koon's fleet)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Bellator | 5000m | 95 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Vengeance | 5000m | 96 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Viscount | 5000m | 92 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Intimidator | 5000m | 91 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Annihilator | 5000m | 92 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Arbitrator | 5000m | 94 | 100(Engaging the Ouroboros)
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Sovereign | 5000m | 93 | 100(Engaging Des Harz's ships)
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Terror | 5000m | 92 | 100(Engaging Des Harz's ships)
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Whelm | 5000m | 91 | 78(Engaging Des Harz's ships, was grazed by Gallius's cruiser twice and is firing on ship with super-heavy beams)
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Ravager | 5000m | 91 | 100(Engaging Des Harz's ships)

-

Ground
Allies: ???
Enemies: Bastard , ???

The team comprised of the cthonic entity's manifestation, her bloodtrooper guardians, and the two hulking facsimiles of men behind them continued onwards towards the data hub. They were very close now to the entryway, but a particularly potent sense of Force Energy surprised the goddess. Nearing the entrance, the Darktroopers moved up to take positions by the entrance to the data hub, the bloodtroopers ready with their lightsabers to help defend them. All had active energy shields as Onrai chose to wait while they advanced - it was a deliberate move, waiting to see who or what was so bright.

There was no way it could be Spencer. Ashin Cardé Varanin was fast when it came to getting things done, but she wasn't that fast, was she?

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Joycelyn Zambrano Vaulkhar

​

"Why, I would never."

As the fiery energy raced towards him, Cotan raised his own blade, itself radiating a frosty blue in contrast to the angry flames dripping from Zaudraka. The blade flashed brighter, the air itself seemed to shift, light refracting oddly, as the jaws of flame found themselves without purchase against the barrier he had formed. "Merely seeking a more picturesque location, my dear."

With a sharp, downward slash, the barrier broke; in its place, a pointed wave of telekinetic energy radiated out, splitting apart the tongue of fire as it raced for Joycelyn. Without waiting to first see if it would bowl her over or not, and before she could attempt to ensnare him again, Cotan resumed his wary ascent to the peak, ever watchful for another attack from the Sith Empress. "I do hope you'll join me," he commented as he ascended the stairs.

"After all, I'd hate for you to leave me with a bad impression, and right now, you seem more like the Ash of Vahl, not the Ember."

 

[Kesran Opadal]

Objective: Ravelin, Bastion
Allies: Luna Terrik UX-0626 Alina Tremiru Iasha Rha Dimitri Voltura
Enemies: NIO | GA Noel Strasza Kolson Vrask Ragnar the Untested
Engaging: Ragnar the Untested



Kesran stood next to the Sith Lord, Dimitri Voltura. Awaiting his words, carefully and patiently. However, before he could say anything in response, or at least for Kesran to hear..

BOOM!!!

The rest was all a blur. The dropship spun and swirled, and then the crash. Just before the ship smashed into the ground, he tried to grab onto a rail bar atop the ceiling. He then enhanced his body with the force to prevent any major damage during the crash. He missed the rail bar.

Seconds later, the ship crashed and Kesran was knocked out cold.

Within the dark abyss of his closed pupils he heard a call, from somewhere he had no idea of at all.

"Ill just call you Kes then, right?". He heard the voice of Alania Mardova, a young woman he had recently met a year ago on Nar Shaddaa. There was something in her, something horrifying yet extraordinary. He had wished to see her again.

"Kesran, where are you?". He now heard the voice of his mother, as if he was back on Bakura as a child, playing in the ruined skyscrapers with his friends. That was before her death, before everything changed.

"Hey Kes, you still coming". He know heard the voice of his old partner and friend, Dresk Mikko. A Nautolan pilot who helped him get off Bakura. Who...later betrayed him. Who Kesran was forced to kill.

The voices faded as Kesran tried to make any sense of it all.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the massive hole torn in the side of the ship from the crash. He couldn't move. He tried to squirm, but couldn't. One of the durasteel backboards from the weapons rack, which must have becomed dislodged when the ship burrowed into whatever had stopped its movement once they had crashed. It was thick and Kesran didn't have the strength, or did he? Now grunting slightly, his face crumpled as he summoned the force. And with one swift force push, he had sent the large steel rack flying upwards as it hit the ceiling and fell harmlessly to the ground. Now, he was able to get his hands free to untangle his feet. He pulled himself up and stumbled out of the ship.

He had exited the other side of the ship. He walked around the fallen cockpit of their transport. He lifted his head just enough to see Alina Tremiru . She must have been tossed from the ship during the crash.

He tried to call out to her, but his vocal cords must have hindered somewhat, he was still quite out of breath, not to mention of the durasteel slab that was just laying on top of Kesran's gut a minute ago.

"Alina". He tried to shout, but it only came out with much of a wheezing sound.

He took a few deep breaths. She probably couldn't see him yet, with all of the ship wreckage from both the ship and the structure they "bumped" into.

As he grinned and fully turned the corner around the cockpit, he hoped to reach her and make sure she and any others that had survived were alright.

His grinned stopped suddenly as he saw an assailant, a red skinned Zabrak, Ragnar the Untested, behind her and about to attack her!

Before he did anything else sensible, like draw his lightsaber and throw it to block the attack, which whatever it was he couldn't really see it.

No, he just gathered his breath extremely quickly and yelled out to Alina to warn her

"Alina!", he shouted with all his might, almost falling over it was so loud, considering his current state. "Look out behind you!".

As soon as he finished his warning, he reached down to grab his lightsa.......

He found nothing on his belt, "Oh not again", he thought to himself.

He looked back into the ship and where he had been.

He could see it, reaching out with the force to pull it back to him, hopefully in time to help Alina deal with this...whatever he was.

 

[Dimitri Voltura]

ALLIES: Luna Terrik | UX-0626 | Iasha Rha | Alina Tremiru | Kesran Opadal
ENGAGING: Halketh
OTHER ENEMIES: Ragnar the Untested | Noel Strasza | Kolson Vrask | New Imperial Forces and Allies
GEAR:

Spoiler

Lightsaber
Force Imbued Sith Blade
Force Imbued Cortosis-weave Sith Armour
Pack of ~20x Voxyn = UPDATE: Only 15 remain after ship crashed

There was the briefest of glimpses.

As he sent his thoughts to her, he caught the slightest sense of Eenia Vahn 's mind. If he could still sense her, all was not lost, it seemed. A droplet of relief fell on him. There was a glimmer of hope that she would still be there when he returned.

If he returned.

He was lost in thought as the dropship took off. He had been careless to just have left like he did. If he did not return from this war that was not even his, she would be without a master once more. She would be adrift once more in her young life. He had been selfish.

He was only shaken from his reverie when a young Acolyte addressed him respectfully. Dimitri nodded at him.
“What is your name, Acolyte?” he asked Kesran Opadal , the corners of his mouth perking up ever so slightly.

The Obsidian Lord finally paid attention to those that have joined on this endeavour. They were all so young. Not only the Acolytes, but the others as well. They may have seen battles, but there was no mistaking their youth.

He had just opened his mouth to say something, when all haran broke loose. A loud Boom could be heard and the ship shook violently while sparks and flame burst around them. The next thing he knew, air was pelting his body as he was flung from the ship as it went down.

Half blinded by chaos, his instincts only had enough time to throw out the smallest amount of Force to help slow his fall. The ground still rushed up relatively fast.

The wind was knocked violently from his lungs as he hit the earth, pain shooting through his body briefly. Luckily his armour absorbed most of the damage, but his left arm and shoulder protested nonetheless.

With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet with his better arm, pulling his lightsaber as he did so. He would have to feed to return to his previous strength. Healing on his own would take too long.

As he regained his feet, he looked around. It was chaos. Fires burned all round and blaster fire rang loudly all across the city. The death, destruction and complete and utter Darkness reigned over all this day.

He knew better than to approach the shipwreck straight on. Any self respecting New Imperial Officer would have sent troopers to it by now. Ducking into a side street, still clutching his arm, he concentrated on the bunch of crates lying around the wreckage, allowing the Force to unlock them.

As fifteen of the 8 legged, reptilian canines that were still alive reigned chaos down on the closest troopers, Dimitri seized his chance. Launching himself at an occupied trooper from the side street, Dimtri bit into the man’s life force, draining it.

The effect was instantaneous. Strength surged back into his body, allowing the Force to heal it as it went.

Dropping the lifeless form of the trooper to the ground, he turned and disappeared deeper into the city in the direction of Fortress Imperator with unnatural speed, summoning his canines as he went.

Spoiler: OOC Short Version

Due to the drophsip being shot down, 5 Voxyn have perished in the crash. Dimitri is now heading in the direction of Fortress Imperator with the remaining 15 Voxyn. Halketh time to dance, mate

 

[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 (Tangibly)
ENEMIES: Ingrid L'lerim | TSE


With her senses still amplified, Runi had a split second of warning as her opponent teleported in-front of her. The sudden air displacement causing her to pull her mad dash up at the last possible moment, cybernetic hand coming up as if to ward off an invisible blow, yet it was unfortunately still too late. The woman's blade slipped through the gap between Runi's thumb and index finger even as the hand closed around it, the beskar lined palm screaming in protest as it found itself fighting against the vibroweapon's oscillation, barely managing to grind it down to a standstill as the crushgaunt grip kicked in to hold it in place.

Unfortunately, though the alchemized qualities of her coat and the asheran armorweave beneath might have managed to stop the blade from piercing through to the skin, there was little to stop the kinetic impact that came from quite literally running into a sharp pointed object. Even as Runi grabbed at the weapon, a searing pain lanced up through her side. Her ribs might have healed from the telekinetic assault Adrian had placed on them at Dantooine, but now a fresh wave of agony was spiderwebbing its way across her chest.

What was that? One, two ribs? If she hadn't stopped the blade...

"Ughhh," was the closest the spacer could come to a pithy reply to her opponent's lengthy monologuing, the sound tumbling from between a set of snarled lips as she fought to remain standing. Force body techniques and simple anger at being caught by such a simple attack bolstering her where willpower threatened to falter.

At least she could she her attacker now. Those red tresses sparking a fleeting memory of Dantooine as Amea dragged her semi-conscious form away from the impromptu battlefield. Placing a name to the features, however, was beyond her.

"Unable...Unable to defend himself?" The Kiffar fought back a pained chuckle despite herself, "Cheeka, you really... Really don't know who your husband was, do you? I've fought... Unnn... Mandalorian Warlords with less fight in them."

Beyond the occasional taunt, monologuing in a battle wasn't her style, but she needed a second or two to recover from that blow. And if her opponent was going to give it to her...

"Despite what you seem to think, Vandiir acquitted himself well. His death was clean. He could have walked away - it was offered - but he choose his path, same as you do right now. You wanna to know why the bond between you was disrupted?"

Her beskar laced fingers tightened on the blade as she spoke.

"Ask yourself, did you really know him? Or do you jus' know the romanticised version you seem to have created in that pretty little messed up head?"

She didn't wait for an answer. With a seething breath sliding between her teeth as she whipped her own weapon up from the side, ignoring the cries of her own body to drag the curved blade across where Ingrid's wrist would be, her posture shifted and turned as the Kiffar stepped in with a follow through. A forced enhanced shot with her elbow where she hoped Ingrid's jaw would still occupy. A third attack coming in quick succession with a telekinetic buffet designed to shove the other woman back and buy her some breathing room. Which judging from how her ribs felt right about now, would be sorely welcome.

"If you want blood for blood, then giddy the kark up." Runi spat, "But if you want me to absolve you for your own marital failings, then I'm afraid you're gonna be all kinds of karkin' disappointed before this day is through."

 

[Alina Tremiru]

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

Each step brought her closer to the wreckage. She hadn't realized it at first, that feeling of dread. Of once more seeing her allies slain. Each step was faster than the last as pain was replaced by that panic. But she wasn't fast enough. Even from the distance she was she could see them. Imperial troopers. Looking for survivors. Probably to eliminate them. Alina gritted her teeth as she gripped the hilt of her blade tighter. What was her plan? These didn't look like normal troopers. Her eyes traveled around. Was she the only one thrown from the ship? If there was another who wasn't hurt too badly, they could help her.

A voice caught her attention. "Kesran?" Her gaze flicked in his direction. Then her eyes widened. The feeling of dread she had, it wasn't born from panic. It was a warning. Instinct. Her body twisted as she brought her red blade around, slamming into the bolt that had been fired from behind. Sending it into the ground just before her. It was a feeling like no other. Not understanding the threat but some how knowing it was there. Her hands shook, just for a moment. As her yellow eyes fell on the red form of her assailant, the panic faded.

It was a threat. An opponent.

A chance to prove herself.

Hate. It was the Sith's weapon. Alina had always been good at controlling it. Born in a life where even the slightest outburst was met with beatings had taught her to always act with a clear head. Before, she had to push down the hate and anger she felt. With no way to channel it, it was best pushed to the back of her mind and ignored. It had it's moments of bubbling over because of it. Now? Her eyes were full of that unmistakable rage. She lifted her blade, readying a strike.

At first, she was too far away to even think about striking Ragnar. Her body tensed. Then she was gone. In the blink of an eye Alina closed the distance between them. Matukai. Their training of focusing the Force into their bodies to become something faster and stronger than humanly possible had become her core belief. Though, not without a Sith twist. Where they used exercise as a form of meditation, she used it as a channel for the fury in her heart.

Alina couldn't sustain it long. Just bursts of speed or strength. But it was enough for her to leap through the air and keep the speed that would have been lost. Letting her focus on the strength. Her body twisted as she brought the red blade through the air to rend her target in half.

 

[Lirka Ka]

Location: In approach to Fortress
Objective: Massacre
Allies: TSE and allies
Enemies: NIO and allies
Tags: Anden Fancelo

Carnage surrounded her. With each step the invading forces were gunned down en-masse, but she felt nothing short of pure ecstatic exhilaration walking about the chaff, these puny creatures crumbled and died under the slightest blast: but Lirka moved as an icy sentinel of dark iron, blasters continued to ping and harmlessly burn against the Sephi monster's plate. A low growl hummed from the Sephi, and with a click the plasma filament lining her massive blade burned to life, her slow advance slowly turning into a loping stride as the first white-helmed defenders began to show themselves.

And in this brief moments, her powersuit hummed to life, the living-missile that was Lirka Ka was off: leaving the helpless legionnaires to the guns of the enemy. But none were so unfortunate as the first squad of defenders she encountered, a barreling monstrosity of spiked plate, swirling ribbon, and endless malice.

Despite the monster's size, she moved with a dancers grace and precision as she fought. Her blade sliced through the hair as heads flew and limbs fell to the earth. It was a sweet and violent exhilaration, just as the dance of death always was to the ever-vile Sephi

 

[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 Djorn Bline )

Breathless lungs struggled for air in the wake of the fiery crash, pain shooting through her nerves as she opened her eyes to take in the sight that was so eerily similar to Panatha. Broken bodies strapped into seats and the shrill cries of the wounded, struggling to hold onto the life draining from their open wounds, roused her memory of the battle. This time, she was not the only one who had survived the crash. She already could see a few Legionnaires and Sith stirring to activity, pushing her to immediately begin doing the same, as now more than ever, time was of the essence. As such, 626 shook off the pain in her chest, unstrapped herself from the seat, and readied her weapons before heading outside.

She was immediately greeted by chaos, fires dancing in a raging rhythm, blaster fire singing in a disharmonious melody, and loud booms echoing as an ever-present percussion to the concert of violence. Her body hurt, all over, but the pain was a welcome sign, proving that she was still alive in spite of everything.

Pain, channeled into passion, then passion translated into action. 626 gave a silent nod to the Sith, then moved to prepare for the incoming horde of barbarian heretics. She would be ready to meet them with fire and sword as a loyal servant of her Eternal Lord, ready to kill and die in his name.

Moving into a defensible location some distance from the dropship, 626 took a deep breath and scanned across the area with her pulse cannon, watching the Sith engage a heretic warrior as she set her sights on the stormtroopers who were surrounding the wreckage...

Spoiler: Gear and Equipment

• Armor
  • Sith-Imperial Legionnaire Combat Armor Mk. III
    • Undersuit
      • Viper Mk. I Skinsuit
    • Utility
      • Neural Band
      • Taozin Skin Nodule
      • Revealer
    • Left Wrist
      • Whistling Birds
    • Right Wrist
      • Wrist Laser
    • Energy Shield (Replaces Integrated Deflector Mobility Shield)
      • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Small Arms
  • “Extinguisher” Precision Pulse Cannon
  • SIF-7 ‘Minos’
    • Multi-Optic Holographic Sight
• Melee
  • Whimsy Knife
• Grenades and Explosives
  • Impact Grenade (3)

 

[Creuat]

K N I G H T
NEW JEDI ORDER
BASTION | RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT

"We must fight, Master!"

No.​

This wasn’t the first time his apprentice acted out in defiance against his wishes, nor would it be the last. Discipline and obedience was one of the great difficulties upon his mentorship on the woman. Her abundance of courage and will to fight, although admirable traits, did her no favors in this situation. He knew she was unlike the other Padawans in the order, she was always looking for a fight to have and win it. Admittedly, she knew how to endure and efficiently fight. But this? This was something else.

“Hel, no!” he protested against his student. All fights didn’t had to be won through force, they had to be won by surviving. And the key to survival here? Retreat away from this Sith Lord. Perhaps Rhis could last a bit against this servant of darkness, but his pupil wouldn’t last a minute with him.

“You are not ready! Heed my commands!”

She stood her ground with a firm stance, lightsaber in her hand and out extended an orange blade from its hilt.

Dammit, foolish girl.​

Her arrogance would be their downfall. Much to learn she had if they were to survive this.

"Would the teacher side with the eager student? or will the student be reprimanded for coming to fight?" ​

"I feel the Padawan has a point coach. She wants to fight against such evil people. Lets see how well she does? Could she survive? Would you feel guilty for throwing her to the wolves? Sacrificing yourself to preserve her? Such chivalry! Lets hope she has been taught well! Come O'child Mine. Let see if you have what it takes to be a Force User!"​

He mocked them, taunting at Rhis’ Padawan as the Sith detected her arrogance and defiance towards him, and her eagerness to fight. No doubt his words would challenge Hel and provoke her to lash out. A scenario ideal for the Sith Lord, compromising them for his own advantage. “Shut up, I won’t let you near her,” he said with a snarl at the Sith. He would honor the duty he had of protecting his Padawan.

The floating chunks of debris above the Sith were then hurled at the Jedi duo, Rhis standing in between his apprentice and the thrown objects coming at them. With the Force he managed to redirect some of it away from them, but he could not maintain the defense as chunks of it barraged on the Nautolan causing the Jedi Knight to turn around and had his back suffer through the salvo.

“Hel, leave!”

And suddenly he fell down with a large piece of debris trapping him on the floor. He was in shock, trying to squirm and push off the heavy load on top of him.

“Hel, run! Don’t listen to him!”

ALLIES | NIO | NJO |Mrurh'en'lase | Hel
ENEMIES | TSE | CIS | Vora Kaar

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Ravelin, Bastion
Objective: To find everything that was once Adrian’s property and rescue them if they still exist. Avenge AMCO !
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tag: Runi Verin

Background music:
Sabaton - Angels Calling (feat. Apocalyptica)​

Although her attack did not go as well as the Empress wanted, it was enough for her to injure Run now. Devaronian blood poison still exerts its effect and at least it is certain the woman will end her life in pain. The answer she received to her words made it clear to her that the Kiffar did not understand what she meant, or just didn't want to mean it. Ingrid knew Adrian exactly; when he fought with sorcerers, never worried about him, knew exactly that the Sith Lord would certainly win against such opponents, the opponent did not have much chance. She was worried when her husband faced soldiers, or people like Runi, or herself. He could do nothing against such persons. In vain did she teach him, as Adrian said, he had no talent for the real fight.

Didn't want to finish Runi quickly, so if she could, pulled the blade out of the woman's hand and pulled it back. Did not change weapons just because of the melee situation. The way she looked and watched the other woman Ingrid felt nothing. The red-haired woman hoped she would be able to feel something, even if suppressed them right away, but nothing. Felt no satisfaction, no joy, no relief. Nothing but ice-cold emptiness and pain in the depths of her soul in emptiness. In the present moment, she did anything just because logic desired and dictated it.

"He's a sorcerer! As long as the opponent is away from him, they have no chance. But if someone comes close to him…"

Didn’t finish, and still used the present time when talking about him. She suspected the woman was preparing for something, as the files said she was a great warrior. Still, Ingrid hadn't done anything yet to stop Runi from what she was up to. In fact, since Dantooine, she hasn’t really cared if gets hurt. Her armour was also on her now only because it was easier to disguise herself in this, the material of the armour and the technology also helped in this.

"You both could have walked away too. Don’t try to set your own fault as his fault. It’s easy to blame someone else who can’t defend himself against the charges."

Said in an still emotionless voice. If she still failed to rip the vibroblades out of Runi's fingers, try again. Ignored the next sentence because it was not true. From the first moment, there was such harmony between them as if they had always known each other, they really matched each other. Chemistry and everything else worked very well between the two of them. Of course, they both had secrets from the other, but they knew each other very well. Ingrid expected an attack, though didn't defend much against it.

Just enough to pull her hand back when the cut arrives. It was mostly her armour that protected her from Runi cutting off her hand. The armour was cut through the knife a bit, so after the sharp and cold cut, no blood, only black smoke began to come out of the injury. Didn't move on the next move either, so Runi's elbow found her chin without any problems. The armour protected her pretty well, but even so, her lower jaw popped out, though it didn't break. For the third attack, however, she had already raised a telekinetic shield in front of her, thus easing its strength, but still sliding back a good three or four metres.

The next moment she punched herself in the face, on the other side as Runi did, her jaw jumping back. Put both vibroblades back in their place and pull out the two black-and-red vibroswords from the sword sheaths from her back, which were similarly made with devaronian blood poison.

"I don't need your absolution."

Said emotionlessly, holding out her left hand, through the right was the one Runi had cut; squeezed her sword grip with the thumb to the bottom of her palm to be able to do the telekinetic pull. With that, she tried to pull Runi to herself so she could try to impale her with both vibroswords. It wasn't exactly the most elegant solution, but she didn't care this time.

 

[Kolson Vrask]

V A N D A L
FIRE TEAM AUREK 3/3
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | | Grenades

BETTER RUN
​

That swarm would be brought low yet. Though a swiftly assembled, parceled effort on the doing of the Storm Commando, it proved fruitful. Those Sith birds were plucked surefire from the heavens and sent trembling down to the broken ground beneath.

It wasn't long after until the wolves were circling the kill and Vandal's commo was alight from Deader.

"Vandal-Actual this is Deader, me and some Doom Div boys are riding out to intercept the wreckage. We could use some back-up, over." ​

<"Copy, Deader. I'll be in your area.">

<"Besh. Stay and hold this spot. Keep snatching souls, until the tube breaks or you run out of rockets, keep sending it."> Berik said, hitting the Sith Imps before they ever touched the ground was the best means at keeping the ground they could hold. It ripped away any chance for them to consolidate, press any illusion of advantage out of their hands and trembling helplessly unto the ground.

<"Aurek, on me."> Berik hadn't killed a single soul this entire battle yet, hadn't raised his rifle in hatred once. That had to change. It disturbed him more than anyone else how much he hungered for the kill. He'd always heard those stories from the old heads, from the Great Galactic War, or the conflicts between the Republic and One Sith, of how horrid it all is. How much the sights and senses of death kept them up in sleepless nights.

Maybe he'd get there.

Maybe he'd be just like them.

But for now, he loved it more than anything else.

And there was no more formidable prey than the Dark Creed, the Sith.

They jolted from the ruins they began to make their way into the no man's land with a double time pace. He singularly focused on the ping and the downed dropship was soon upon them as he swiftly rose his battle rifle up in the direction of the crash, a Doom Division trooper headed in the direction of the Storm Commando before a harsh bolt struck his skull and felled him to the ground, sending Berik scrambling behind cover, peaking up to gauge the source of the fire, firing out two bursts of his particle beam rifle before he lobbed a 'null' grenade, pulsing out a cloud of smoke between him and the assumed Sith position. Taking advantage of the dampener smoke, he ran, low and crouched into another covered position, swiping a hand up to motion his two counter parts in the other direction, to root out and envelop the survivors, gunning them down one by one.

<"Deader, I'm in your area.">

WHO DARES WINS
Noel Strasza

THE SITH
INTENT TO ENGAGE :: Iasha Rha | UX-0626

WARPOST TLDR ; Firing at gunships headed to land in Ravelin. Not a LOT obviously but, if you're TSE and want to eat a crash landing, there's your 'in'.​

ALLIES | NIO | Djorn Bline | Lyra Voi’kryt | Creuat | Willan Tal | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Tyrell Paxxus | Meko Sorrin | Zakaria Black | FN-999 Vostok Grau
ENEMIES | TSE | CIS | Luna Terrik | UX-0626 | Iasha Rha | Alina Tremiru | Dimitri Voltura | Kesran Opadal