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

[Kolson Vrask]

V A N D A L
VANDAL ACTUAL 1/1
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Grenades

ROAD MOVIE TO RAVELIN
​

That brutalist 'chop' of the heavy repeater into the black duraplast of the Sith troopers was music to his ears. The last music he'd ever head. Whether he go out screaming into the sacred silence today or another...all just a burning memory. He honed in singularly on that aim. To cut down every Sith that approached him. To keep these sick dogs locked in their cage.

Because absolution, holy fire was well on its way.

<"Dropping in ten seconds...nine-."> The 908th's Barrage, the 7th's Orbital strike...it call came tumbling down now. He pulled the activation of a thermal imploder into the kill zone before he shifted around, bury his back behind his slab of cover. The Storm commando helmet came off with a swift pull and he fished into his plate carrier for a cigarette.

​

The rockets, turbolasers and hellfire came plummeting down unto the kill zone as he apathetically, his knees tucked near his chest, his heavy repeater resting in his lap and his last cigarette tucked between his lips. He peered lifelessly to the sky as he watched it all come down, looking into his closed to hand to reveal the identification tags of himself and the fallen comrade all but three feet away from him.

Just like the rest of Vandal, he'd be nothing but ashes in the broken ground of Ravelin. Returned back to the same place they all came from. He didn't fear it for a second.

Who dares wins.​

ALLIES | NIO | Djorn Bline | Lyra Voi’kryt | Rhis Fisto | Willan Tal | 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

 

[Ragnar the Blooded]

Location: Ravelin, Bastion
Equipment: Saberstaff, Imperial Knight Armour
Engaging: Alina Tremiru

The force in which she employed to slam his saber down brought it carving through the street at his side. A furrow dug through the ground, molten, superheated by the sabers passing. Her saber leapt back upwards, but she had added momentum to the top end of his saber. She stepped forwards, her saber came up. Ragnar didn't know the extent of her injuries, but he was confident that she wouldn't be able to withstand the heavyweight slash that would've cut her straight down the middle.

And then her saber vanished.

Traka-

The familiarity behind her form ran through him, but he didn't have the time to finish the thought. As soon as her saber vanished, sinking back into her hilt, she propelled herself forwards into his guard. She'd get to him before his saber would be able to finish its downwards arc. Ragnar knew it, she knew it. The tip of her crimson beam exploded back to life, driving right at him. Lip curling upwards into a sneer, his lips curved upwards into a mirthless smile. What a waste.

The Zabrak twisted.

Not to avoid her lightsabre, she was too close. It was too close. But his saber moved. The bottom end deactivated as it crossed over his own torso. Just barely kissing the ground, the silver blade leapt back up. In the same instant, he felt a burst of heat along his open, unguarded midsection. Nothing to stop it, her crimson blade found his armour, as she had suspected.

But instead of the momentum she expected to find charged through him, her saber deactivated. The cortosis woven into the armour was in high quantities. The only way that it'd have any actual use for one of its users to combat a force user, in this case, Sith, efficiently. The obstacle of her saber was gone, and a split second later, his silver coloured saber snapped upwards in an effort to cleave her swinging arms at alternating levels clean from her body.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Ragnar the Untested

She'd heard of Cortosis. It was one of the many metals that came up in her search for proper armor on her hands. To guard them from lightsabers. It's special property, when used as the brittle ore, could actively short out a saber. Something with reacting to the blade and shorting out the emitter or something akin to it. But to see it actually happen? Alina's eyes widened as everything she put into her strike proved to be useless. She stumbled past the Zabrak.

There was a new pain. Mind numbing. It was like she'd never taken the medpac. The young Sith just stared blankly at her arms, some distance in front of her. Then to the burned stumps where they'd once been attached. She collapsed then, unable to fight off the pain to keep consciousness.

 

[Auteme]

Cara Dorniarn ​

Auteme was starting to think that the women of the Sith Empire didn't really like her. Was it the way she talked? Maybe she should've started with something softer, instead of going straight to the 'yeah, you're wrong, but I can get you out' business. She'd revise her strategy when she had more space in her mind for it. Her thoughts in that moment were primarily occupied with how best to escape the iron grip of the Sith.

Her instincts had forced her to grab onto the arm holding her, but that wasn't very productive. All her scratching and clawing hadn't caused the hold to waver for even a single moment. As the woman finished her rant she felt the fingers tightening -- it didn't take a medical student to know that what was about to happen next wouldn't be especially good for her health.

For a moment she felt it; the distant presences of her fellow Jedi, and she knew that even if she was left here things would be alright. But she didn't always need to fight for others. Her own safety was just as important.

"Sorry," she squeaked out. Her hand left the arm, reaching for her attacker's helmet, and her palm exploded with Light.

"You're wrong."

 

[Jaeger Harrsk]

H E L L I O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OBJECTIVE I: FORTRESS IMPERATOR
F I N A L E

Y O U ' R E . . . I M M O R T A L ?​

Jaeger's eyes widened as Paxxus stepped forward unphased by the commissioner's rounds hitting his chest. He frantically squeezed the trigger faster with each step the immortal Vizier took bringing him closer. Harrsk's mind fell into a spiral, down the hollow eyes of Tyrell and into a maze of confusion and...helplessness. A feeling he had believed he had left behind on the streets of Teta as a fiery youth calling for Imperialism and the removal of the Sith-aligned Tetan monarchy. The Vizier darted forward and with one supernatural motion twisted Jaeger's gun back at him.

"It is a great shame; to be forced to persist after such a failure. But, I am grateful. You should be too." Tyrell unceremonially stated. The frigidness of death carried in his tone. Soulless eyes stared at him. Jaeger saw it then or rather accepted it. Tyrell Paxus was dead. Whoever returned from Dantooine was not the Grand Vizier, not the father of the Imperator. He raged and raged against the monster gazing at his soul - to no avail; no strength, no fire of his youth, no Power could help him escape the devil's grasp. Jaeger saw his fingers give in to the godlike strength of the Vizier but refused to close his eyes. Ever unyielding.​

An explosion rattled the room and Paxxus' attention drifted away for a mere moment.​

"Harrsk!" Elicia's voice blasted through the commotion. He caught her ducking behind cover from stormtroopers' hail of bolts.​

She had given him an opportunity. One last chance.​

Jaeger held the gun till his fingers broke and with the other desperately reached for the vibrodagger Elicia had slid down the floor at him. In one swift motion and with the howl of pain and despair, Jaeger Harrsk thrust hard and true the Grand Vizier's throat.​

It was over.​

...​

Lifeless eyes glared blankly at the dagger skewered into the throat.​

It was over.​

...​

Lifeless eyes shifted back to Jaeger.​

The momentary sensation of relief evaporated as the molten tide of despair rushed over him again.​

"H-how?" he barely uttered.​

"Truly - a great shame." Tyrell replied tonelessly.​

Jaeger Harrsk yielded.​

To the monster before him.​

To that soulless abyss staring at him.​

To the inevitable.​

...​

I ' M _ N O T _ L I K E _ E V E R Y B O D Y _ E L S E​

But he did not yield to who he was.​

"I go out on my own terms...

​

...and so would Tyrell Paxxus!."​

​

Through pure willpower, Jaeger shoved forward relentlessly until he hurled both himself and the posing fiend through the windows of the command room.

Two bodies plummeted down from the heights of Fortress Imperator.

The birds still migrated south.

The sun still rose.

The world still spun.


NIO | ALLIES | Elicia Hejaran
TSE | ENEMIES
ENEMY: Tyrell Paxxus [permission for hits and control of this char given by their writer]

 

[Kesran Opadal]

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



As himself and the Sith trooper defended the position, they could both realize that they would soon be overrun.

Kesran kept wheeling his saber around, as the slug rounds came at him, he blocked most and used the force to enhance his strength to endure the shards that slid into parts of his lower body. Pain was nothing to him, compared to most.

However, he was at an elevated position, leaving himself in the open for the enemy to take a shot at.

He still didn't care.

While blocking many blaster bolts with marvelous speed, he used the force to speed up his hands and his blocking. The blade and its motion would seem to others, a hazy red blur.

The force now advised him of more danger, as he slowed down the world around him, in his mind to focus on incoming danger.

It warned him of the two shots Noel Strasza fired towards him.

He knew he could not block both, so decided to wrench one hand from his saber and use a super quick application to block and redirect the bolt that was aimed towards the arm holding his lightsaber. The movement was so quick that it was near impossible to see it done. The bolt was shot up to a large tall tower above them to their right, which had taken damage during the battle. When the bolt hit the concrete tower, several cinderblocks of concrete fell down harmlessly several feet away.

The second shot she fired at his stomach, he was forced to endure and ignore.

If he tried to intercept it, he would have had to ignore the other bolts as well as other shots coming from other Imperial troopers.

Ignoring the stomach shot, allowed him to block the one gunning for his arm and block several others that followed.

As the shot impacted right in his stomach, his thin Kevlar undershirt absorbed most of the damage, but it still ripped through, puncturing the skin underneath. The force had augmented his psychical strength which negated most of the damage, but the bolt still embedded itself into his skin, creating a slight hole in his stomach.

He tried to endure and ignore the pain, but it was just a bit too much.

He knelt suddenly, grunted and growling, "Agghh!".

He start to pant in deep pain, but he would lift his head back up, staring directly at the doom trooper who had dared to harm him. She would pay, but unfortunately not today. As he did he saw another trooper prepare to throw a grenade that would be in the vicinity Kesran resided in. Before Kesran could act against it, the Sith trooper UX-0626 shot with her rifle at the trooper with the grenade. He sighed slightly in relief.

Given a slight reprieve, he now rolled backwards behind a some fallen concrete, gaining a bit of cover as bolts screamed by and scrapped the top of the concrete block he sat behind.

He set his lightsaber down next to him and placed his hand upon the gaping wound in his stomach. he began to gasp heavier as he saw it with his own eyes. Just as the fear of his demise crept into him, he dispelled it. He would not meet it here, not on this world. His plans, his future would not be stalled by a necromancer and his zombie trooper hordes, among other worthless Imperial traitors.

He now scrunched his face into a one of perpetuate anger. He gnarled and grunted, as he placed his hands completely over the gaping wound. He now used his entire being and will to summon all of his remaining power and vitality. The force came to him as his hands called for it, using it reach into his stomach, slowly pulling the slug round out of his body. The shards and core of the round were removed as if they were in rewind, all of the shards coming together somewhat and being drawn from the wound. This took everything Kesran could muster, including almost all of his combined will. He shouted and screamed as the bullet was finally fully removed from his body. As he used one his hands with the force, he moved the remaining pieces of the round to beside him and then released it as they were placed on the ground. The gaping hole still remaining. The Pain skyrocketed within him, but with all he had he purged it as best he could.

The hole looked even larger as he ignited his saber brought it slightly to his wound to cauterize the now spurting bloody gape. The searing pan burned and scarred his skin to horrible lengths. Finally he pain broke through as he screamed very loud that anyone around the area would certainly hear it.

"UURRGHHH!" "AAAGGHHH!".

If he had bacta to heal with, it would have been healed with no mark remaining afterwards, but with this, the large saber shaped scar now covering the mostly sealed wound, would remain forever.

A mark to remind Kesran of his today's failure and shortcomings.

However, this would not bring him down, it would help motivate him to persevere through the pain and struggle, and emerge hardened and primed for whatever his future held.

Seconds later, his life light started to fade slightly as his eyes struggled to remain open. He needed a stem or a kolto pack very soon.

Even though he refused to submit typically and would curse at himself later for retreating, he now had very little choice.

He couldn't stay at this position at least, with these force-dead troopers here, negating most of his great combative power he has in the force.

He now saw the weakened tower placed above them to their left. If he could bring it down, he could halt them for a time, especially as their forces advanced towards him and the allied trooper.

He now reached his hand from behind the concrete and summoned the force for 3 seconds before closing his eyes and starting to pull down the tower.

All around people could hear the rumbling and cracking of the concrete being ripped from its base, as with one hard swing down with his hand, the tower now completely started to collapse into the area where the crash was and the fighting was raging. It would land between himself and UX-0626 , and the many New Imperial troopers, including the doom troopers led by Noel Strasza .

He now stood up and began to run towards an opening behind him, an archway that would lead down a street, and while he ran, he took his ignited saber with one hand and deflected the bolts away from him as he ran towards his escape.

Before he reached the archway, he stopped with his saber grasped with both hands and saw the Sith trooper, still behind her cover, and after having shot at the trooper before he threw the grenade, she continued to fire back at the enemy with the tower about to crash down in front of her.

He shouted to her, trying to at least get her attention and get her to come with him.

He thought that she might want to live and fight another day, however he didn't know her so he wasn't sure how she would respond.

"Trooper!", he shouted towards her as she still defended her position with furious return fire.

"This way, follow me Trooper!". After he spoke, he turned back towards the archway and started to run through it, hoping to regroup with Alina Tremiru at some point and perhaps turn the battle back in their favor.

He soon disappeared out of view of the enemy troopers as he ducked into a shelled building down the road.

As he entered the building, he felt something, something bad.

He could now sense Alina, and he felt she in was pain, bad pain.

He soon grunted to shake off the distraction and irritation of his seared cauterized stomach wound.

He shook his head to refocus and he soon slipped through the building, moving towards where he felt Alina in the force, hoping to reach her in time.

 

[Ryv]

S W O R D _ O F _ T H E _ J E D I
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
Strike Team Skywalker
LIGHTSABER

Rurik Fel
​

The Sword of the Jedi stepped from the depths of the ashen cloud. Resolve held firm within his right hand. Its viridescent sheen bathed the smoke in a greenish hue. Red blaster fire erupted from Sith-Imperial blasters, aimed squarely on the Jedi Knight. Ryv lifted his saber and batted one bolt aside before reversing his grip to chop down on another. It flew back towards the line of offenders, impacting another legionnaire square in the chest. Torn from his feet, the soldier slammed hard against another at his side. As they tumbled away, Ryv pushed through the hole in the line, his blade weaving a trail of death in his passing.

Legionnaires fell in pairs, arms sliced away by the kiffar's superheated weapon. Another crashed against a wall with a thud. Their armor cracked from the force of the impact, fissuring out across their back until it fell away entirely. Ryv took hold of the soldier and pulled them back towards him. As they soared through the air, he plunged Resolve through their exposed back and out the other side in a grizzly display.

Calls to fall back echoed around him as they began an organized retreat. Soldiers further up the tunnel leveled their blasters on Ryv and released a volley of shots his way. Those closer to the Jedi Knight took the opportunity to distance themselves and dive behind outcroppings of rock or overturned containers. The Jedi Knight pushed forward on an unstoppable march, his blade flashing before him to meet each shot loosed by the legionnaires. It was not a quick pace, but at no point did he stop moving forward.

Not too far ahead, Ryv could feel the presence of his once fated master. Rurik had shattered one corner of the Sith's flank upon arrival. His push towards the other Knights saw him wade into the red host, white blade delivering ardent judgment to all foolish enough to cross blades with the Lord Executor. Ryv grinned wide and reached out through the ethereal bonds of the omnipresent force. Finding the Knight Commander's mind, the kiffar melded the two warriors.

Ryv rushed towards Rurik, his green saber cutting down another within his path. As the body fell away, the Jedi Knight found his way to the Lord Executor's side. Both men, apprentices of the late Vyrin Karis, knew thousands of hours of training side-by-side long before the war claimed their lives. When Rurik fell upon a Sith separated from his allies, Ryv would sweep around their back, cutting off any hope for a retreat. And like twin-peaked mountains, they fell upon their enemy in an unerring avalanche of white-hot death.

By any means necessary.

That was the creed of Jedi Master Vyrin Karis. The One Sith had molded him into a man who would see the Sith destroyed by any means necessary. He instilled a Will of Iron into his chosen. Rurik Fel, the Man of Iron, and Ryv Karis, Sword of the Jedi. There were no two men in the galaxy more willing to do the impossible in the quest for victory. Death was not a deterrent but a promise. One day they would fail. Perhaps at the end of the blade, or maybe swarmed on all sides by hordes of the enemy. Beaten, broken, and bloodied. There was no meaningful end to the lives of men like them. Only the fight. The purpose. The mission.

The Sith would be destroyed.

By any means necessary.

 

[Detritus Ren]

Location: tunnels
Allies: Hans Rennagen Agrrur'arr Rurik Fel
Enemies: Xeykard

The beast that fought with terrifying might against the strength of the Knights. The behemoth was unlike most beasts the knights have faced. Even as they were facing against odds that were stacked against them “Knights, shield wall!!” He gave with a mighty yell coursing through his vocal chords as he raised his shield, Master Fel had arrived. The Iron Master had commanded that his knights form a defensive line.


So he did, watching as the savage Tusken. Being either crazy, stupid or downright foolish. Facing off against the giant lizard beast. “Yeah!! Go on and get em sandman!” He said with a cheer, as he kept raging against the fury. Moving to swipe his saber against the might of the enemy. It didn’t help that hordes of unholy Sithspawn was all around them.

Would the Knights live, it didn’t matter. They all swore oaths to both the Empire and Master Fel. They would all die if need be for what they believed in. In the end they were all born and would die within the battlefield. Be it on Bastion, or some force forsaken rock. All that mattered was the mission. To ahniliate the Sith from once they came. Onto oblivion. The halls shrieked with Sith, the splintered shields crashed, the hum of sabers roared and the smell of death all around.


Even when all seemed to be lost, Fel was here and that was enough. For all of them knew one great thing. Bastion would stand no matter the cost.

 

[FN-999]

POST: VI
OBJECTIVE: I
LOCATION: Fortress Imperator, North Gate (Main 19th formation) / Sith crash site battlefield near the Fortress (319th Line Platoon + 439th Assault Platoon)
EQUIPMENT:

• FN-999: In signature, Reaper Chainblaster
• ST-1121: Armor | Rifle | 5x basic smoke grenades

UNIT: The 19th Stormtrooper Assault Company (see detailed status on tactical map)
ALLIES: NIO Kolson Vrask / Noel Strasza (19th NPCs in physical proximity) | Uriel Tokarev (in radio proximity) | Djorn Bline | Lyra Voi'kryt | Rhis Fisto | Willan Tal | Erskine Barran | Tyrell Paxxus | Meko Sorrin | Zakaria Black | Vostok Grauv
HOSTILES: TSE | UX-0626 (Indirectly engaging with NPC units)

"Second wave, fire!"
​

The EW-ALE emplacements of the 439th Assault Platoon, now fully assembled and manned, opened fire on the battlefield in front of them. Hundreds of plasma bolts shredded through steel and flesh alike, turning the road ahead into a field of craters indistinguishable from an asteroid. Several bolts hit a stream of fuel leaking from the downed transport and it exploded, a bright cloud of flame and smoke rising into the air where it once stood. Behind them, troopers from the 319th Line Platoon emerged, making their retreat under the cover of the 439th's suppressive fire. After about a minute, twenty-five troopers emerged and formed flanks around the 439th.

"319th Platoon, what's your casualty report?" asked FN-999.

"Four." replied one of the platoon's logistics officer.

"Who are we missing?"

"Lieutenant ST-1121."

LIEUTENANT ST-1121 OF THE 319th

ST-1121 was in full retreat.
​

His ears and body rattled by the rocket barrage that preceded the machine guns, the lieutenant no longer had a thought to spare for the trooper who he had so aggressively pursued barely a minute prior. As much as he wanted a fight, he was no idiot. If he stayed on the battlefield, he'd be torn to shreds by his own comrades. The Sith trooper would likely perish in the machine gun barrage if the rockets hadn't already tore her to bits, and anything related to her was now irrelevant.

ST-1121 leapt out of the wreckage, breaking into a full sprint. He tossed two of his smoke grenades in front of his flanks, providing cover for the crucial ten meters of open space between himself and the next side road. After what seemed like an hour, the lieutenant jumped down and slid across the intersection into the opposite road, and not a moment too soon.

Machine gun fire tore through the wreckage he had been in so shortly before, turning it into mere cinders. He rushed towards its source parallel to its formation, the sound of his heartbeat barely drowned out by the continuous gunfire. Just as he thought his legs were approaching their limit, he caught sight of his comrades behind the 439th's gun formation.

One trooper locked eyes with the approaching lieutenant and let out a cry of excitement, which was soon shared by the rest of the unit. They quickly embraced their commander before looking to their captain, who promptly called off the barrage from the 439th.

With both platoons consolidated and satisfied with very light casualties, FN-999 led their march back to the main formation standing vigilant at the fortress gate just as they had nearly an hour prior.

OOC: Final post

​

 

[Moff Drybis Lyken]

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

Spoiler

Flagship:

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

Other Forces:

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

The Moff now saw the enemy forces speed past, as his ship and the Reaper continued to fire at all of the ships until his entire force blew past.

"Sir, they have gone past us"

"Yes Colonel, I know". "Report on our bomber run".

"Targets hit, several were destroyed before they reached target, the bridge was hit and we caused heavy damage to other parts as well, however the ship's hull is still sustaining".

"How lucky".

"Sir, they have destroyed one of Tammars, the other has retreated to behind our right side".

"Sir, if we send the remaining corvette and our remaining squads....."

"No Captain, he's earned his escape". "Our large ships can't even get around in time for them to be still in range".

"They are regrouping with the reinforcing New Imperial fleet located diagonally behind us sir".

"Yes I know Ensign". "I saw the Bishop explode, did they lose any ships?"

"Yes sir, they lost two that were caught near the blast, but most sped by in time".

The Moff was frustrated and soon his tank burst a bit.

"Ugghhh, why did we have to come here?"

"Sir?"

"Bastion was such an obvious target for us to hit next after Dantooine, they were prepared and we were not".

"Moff Lyken I think that...."

"No Captain, you know I'm right, our Sith leaders cannot accept the loss of this world and decided they wanted it back". "But instead of taking time to plan a coordinated fleet assault, they just sent out orders that all forces were to converge on Bastion'.

"Sir, you are just saying this because you are upset that we failed to destroy their ships entirely".

"Partly, and also that we did not have enough ships to take orbit, all we had was our fleet and Onrai 's, not enough especially when they had many ships already here before our attack and more have come since".

"So should we retreat sir"

"No, we will not". "With this Imperial commander taking his forces past us and Koon committing towards the Gorgon". "An opening has surfaced".

"Sir?".

"If we drop low, we can sneak past their forces to our left, their right". "We can enter orbit that way".

"Then what sir".

"Well isn't it obvious?"

He looked around at the ensigns, the colonel, the captain, and the others on the bridge, most of them confused why the Moff wouldn't decide to take the ship to help Vantai's forces around the Gorgon. He would solve their confusion with the answer.

"We're going to bombard the city". "We will turn Ravelin into dust".

"But sir".

"We have no more options Colonel, we have to salvage some victory from this disaster". In the Moff's mind, if his forces did not really succeed, he would lose faith in the rest of the allied forces, obviously depending on the situation.

He now turned to glare at Grand Moff Decimus, who was still standing on his bridge, observing the battle before them.

"You can better believe it Grand Moff, that me, you, along with Thaelius and Naval Command, will discuss this disaster and definitely devise a way for us to have more effective naval strategies and better planned assaults".

"Judging by what happened here, we definitely need a solution of some kind".

He now took a deep breath and tried to release his anger, which had fueled his thoughts and words for the last 20 minutes. He usually never burst out like that, so this was even more odd for his crew to bear witness.

"Hopefully the ground forces did far better, and Vantai can finish off their remaining forces".

"Colonel, send the Reaper and the last Corvette to the Gorgon for assistance". "Have them transferred under her command and have them target any nearby enemies on the way". "Have all fighters we have remaining, head to the surface and assist the ground forces until we arrive".

"Yes sir, right away".

"Ensign Burik, send a hail to whoever is commanding our ground forces below and inform them of our impending assault".

"Yes sir, on it".

"Sir, we are getting an odd message from the Valediction's laser arrays".

"What, their laser arrays?".

"Yes sir, I believe that they have still not repaired their entire comm system, so have resorted to some secondary option".

"Alright, what is the message?".

"It reads, Wild rodeo sir. Enjoyed the ride. See you later. Don't lose more carriers in the future."

The Moff slightly chuckled, he now actually admired this Rambeigh's ignorance if nothing else. Obviously, he would not forget this, but if someday, The Moff had an option to speak to this Commodore, in full, it could possibly be an interesting tactical discussion.

"Sir, should we respond?".

"Why not, transmit this, We will meet again Commodore, we will meet again".

"Colonel prepare us to descend down to Ravelin, ready all turbolasers and prep concussion missiles". "Recall the remnants of Obsidian and have refuel and rearm".

"Yes sir, preparing to descend"

The Moff now resumed his stance and prepared to drift into thought until a officer from earlier came onto the bridge

"Moff Lyken, I...I...I found the book that you were look....looking for sir", spoke the bookish officer, Major Enrak

"Late Enrak, Late"

"Sir?", nervously spoke the Major

Then suddenly the Moff turned around and took out his DL-44 Blaster Pistol, and immediately fired it at the Major's skull.

On direct impact, it killed the Major instantly. His body dropped flat on to the bridge floor several feet behind the Moff.

The crew looked upon with stun as the Moff turned back to the main viewport, hands behind his back as he holstered the pistol. He resumed his naval stance and then glared at the Colonel.

"Luk'Jo, prepare our descent, Ravelin is waiting"

He had made his decision, one that he did not want to make, but in his mind was forced to make. If the Sith Empire couldn't have Ravelin, then no one would.



Theme: His Final Gambit

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Tags: Auteme
Gear: In signature​

Cara's brow rose at the apology, her finger halting in the moment to hear just what the girl was sorry for.

She'd felt no fear seeing Auteme raising a hand. The girl was young, inexperienced, and certainly seemed unable to do anything the engineer couldn't react to. Cara's years padded her confidence, especially with a Jedi that seemed so adverse to defending herself. Cara raised her free hand to intercept whatever the girl thought she was doing, her patience having begun to wear thin. She promised she wouldn't kill the young Jedi, but she would be glad to have her stop moving for a time.

Steel fingertips had just brushed against her wrist before the flash. Light exploded around Cara's head catching her unaware and she screamed in both alarm and pain as the light beamed across her eyes. She jerked her face away from the light then flung Auteme away from her as if the girl was a bomb, though unfortunate for Cara she had tossed the "explosive" too late. Stumbling back her pupils were mere pinpricks against a green ring, blind to everything, throbbing with such pain it veiled her other senses as well. She fell to her hands and knees, useless tears streaking through the dust on her face.

"Really?!" She seethed through clenched teeth, "Your due was going to be painless, damn it! Gah--" a palm went to her face, an attempt to quell some of the ache through pressure. But as the attempt failed she lowered her hand again, resting it with a firm stamp to the ground. Though warped with a sting of hurt Cara smiled, a tired chuckle leaving her throat as she spoke. "At least this means that somewhere, someone has their vision back. Balance and all that..."

Her fingers curled into the dirt, and slowly Cara pulled one foot beneath her, then the other, then rose to her full height. Sand fell from her fists as she took an unsteady step back, catching her balance again as she kept her face down. "Well, my dear, unexpected," she took in a focused breath then turned the clouded gaze toward Auteme.

"But I don't need eyes to see where you are." With both fists raised the earth to her left and right cracked, and with the slide of her foot two fissures split, snaking across the garden and towards the girl.

 

[Lirka Ka]

The dance was endless, it was the Dance of Death, the Dark made manifest. She was annihilation, she was destruction, a being so foul that life should not still course through her veins. A being dead and reborn, remolded, forged into nothing less than a monster. And she exerted this truth upon each solider he her hands met, for a true icon of the Dark did not need the tools of mortality to bring death. With careful grace she danced across the field of war, red bolts pinged harmlessly against metal or burnt into flesh within it's breaches. She did not fear the occasional pain, that searing of plasma that filled your body with misery. Just like the rocket, just like every abuse the Galaxy had thrown at her, she embraced it within it's entirety. For it was the Dark's will.

Her fingers launched like a hand of little knives, digging under helmets, through undersuits, and into soft flesh. The martial art was anzati for sure, it's style remained too distinctive but was alien all the same: the monster had added it's own cruel flair, oh how it's form pranced and twirled as men and women died slow, miserable, deaths under it's touch. But one, there remained one Lirka had entirely singled out not. Anden Fancelo

"I have conquered hell, danced alongside death and overcome. Embrace evitability, Child. You end comes, the Dark Patriarch's grasp shall claim you."

They ran, and she accepted it. Might as well let the rats get their head start. She moved back to grab her blade once again. While she may not have needed the weapon, she was far from content to leave such a holy tool to rot away among the field of battle. Turning to face the fleeing troopers, she darted forward in advance, long bounding steps from legs pushed forward by the gyros of a suit that groaned with exertion, blood coating it now: more and more runes revealed as the blood of the fallen warriors filled them. She grinned with the irony of it all, really. She had made sure every single one of these maggots had entered hell itself now, hunted by a predator without compare.