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

[Naier Rambeigh]

BATTLE_IN_ORBIT
PEACEKEEPER II
RAGE & SCREAM

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

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

Aboard the Valediction, Naier was starting to feel the rhythm of his ship. It started with a few cursory check ups on stations, hovering mere millimeters over the shoulders of his ensigns and turned into a full interrogative session between his junior officers- as good of an exercise at it was for his mental faculties, it also kept the rest of his bridge crew on edge.

When the battle commenced- Naier could never tell which side was the catalyst for the opening shots- the tension broke out into a flurry of familiar activity. Many onboard were new faces, but transfers from other ships. Either damaged, or otherwise no longer operating in the churning maw of war. The survey of the situation around him left him a grade more optimistic than before, although it was hardly a noteworthy achievement. Back on the command deck, Simone had launched into her tactical assessment of the battle.

That they were heavily outnumbered and outgunned. Naier nodded in agreement, pulling out his hickory smoking pipe.

That their forces were piecemeal at best, or otherwise incorrigibly aggressive as Captain Orcana had shown himself to be. It was perhaps not Imperial-standard, but he knew the hallmarks of Imperial Naval Academy training when he saw one. Overly aggressive and near-foolhardy maneuvers. Had the man attempted his attack with a larger battlegroup, it would have been the right kind of distraction the defenders needed. As it was in reality however, the commodore rated it as a spoiling attack at best- it did pull away a not-insignificant portion of the enemy forces away from them-, or a suicidal distraction at worst.

His captain gave him an uncertain look that said all that was necessary. Naier shook his head as he puffed away. "The captain's made his bed."

She paused, but agreed silently. They didn't have the numbers to carry out an extraction, and it was merely another Cuirassier. If it had been a Star Destroyer, it might have warranted action from their part.

Autumn remained steady on her slow course. All around her however, the planetary defense stations thundered silently in space- the enemy appeared to be of the notion that Bastion was to- "What was the saying, Captain?"

"Hmm?"

Naier clicked his tongue. "The enemy. Their maneuvers, intent- all of it." Simone looked at the map, and then back at her superior, a confused look etched across her weathered features. "Sir?"

That was when it came back to him. He smacked the desk top, startling a passing ensign. "That's right! Under the impression that we were going to 'go quietly' into the night." The look of intense confusion remained, although this time she cocked her eyebrow. "I take it, there are orders stemming from this observation-"

The bridge alarm flooded their conversation space with blaring klaxons and shrill alerts. Dropping the contemplative guise, both officers rushed over to the overhead railing overlooking the command stations. "Crewman-"

His voice barely cleared his throat when the communication's officer interjected him. "Mass communication blackout! I repeat, mass communication black out in effect, coming from friendly signatures!"

The Rae Sloane. It had to be. The commodore nodded, as the captain barked the next set of orders to the bridge. "Power up contingency communication systems, now!"

Contingency communication systems. Just another term for most of the older, redundant systems that had been repurposed from their original intent to act as an auxiliary system for various critical stations. Communication in space was always unstable at best, with the array of potential communication jamming devices in the military market today- as one side of the communications war upgraded, so too did the other. Interception and signal-breaking, trying to race ahead of one another.

But there was very little headway on laser-based communication. Because it wasn't marketed as a communications system. It was an older version of their range finding systems. Since lasers had no theoretical limit to its range in space, it was useful for a time to gauge distances and allow for projected calculations and estimated hits. That was, until advancements in tracking systems blew it out of the waters. By all rights, there was no point in continuing to mount these antiquated systems- but antiquated as they were, redundancy had its role.

One downside of laser-based tracking systems was that the target knew whenever it was being marked- hard to be stealthy about it, and the main reason current electronic based tracking software was all the rage. However, this property was exactly why most of the older ships in the New Imperial Order's Navy still held onto these clunky, cumbersome auxiliary systems.

With all electronic systems jammed, that meant no message was going to leave their fleet- or get into it, leaving any attempt to infiltrate their ship systems null. But the naval equivalent of flashing a very bright floodlight at each other had the same effect as 2 tin cans connected by a string- rudimentary, but effective in exactly these kinds of situations. Pulling up their navy's codebook, the Valediction's communications officer began to aim the ship's laser arrays at her three frigate escorts, and fired a low intensity beam, flicking it on and off at seemingly random intervals. Moments after receiving their message, the three Escoltas repeated the action with the rest of her corvette screens.

'Communications Blackout' was only a problem for the Sith and her allied fleets. For Naier's more seasoned crew, it was just another trigger in their training. The joys of antiquation was in the smug satisfaction Naier felt, watching the enemy fleet struggle to coordinate with one another. They may have their host of Force-using space wizards, but there was only so much they could do at a certain range- not everyone could transmit messages over hundred and thousands of kilometers in space, after all. He'd eat his pipe if that was the case.

"Massive energy build up- we're being targeted, energy weapons!"

"Evasive maneuvers, now!" He barked.

The PA system barely had time to switch to the robotic announcement of 'Brace, Brace, Brace' before the entire ship lurched as several hundred thrusters surged to veer away from the projectile's set trajectory. Her sister ship, took it a step further by accelerating forward in flank speed, just as the multiple barrages nearly cut by her engines. It was a close shave, but their fleet still remained relatively unscathed. "Message from the Chief Engineer- engines running hot, power levels spiking."

"You tell Hansen he better start pissing over the coolant pipes, damn it- all ships, follow my lead. Full speed ahead!"

The navigations officer turned around, expectant. "Destination sir?"

Naier snapped his fingers, and a tactical space map pulled up on the bridge screens. Two dimensional at first- and then it rotated to reveal the full three dimensions of space. "Get us over the northern hemisphere of Bastion and over their fleet. We're going to get the angle on them- execute!"

In a flash of infra-red beams and the energetic burst of movement across multiple bridges, Autumn Division exploded into a loose array of ships in a basic triangular formation, its biggest ships managing to remain in tandem with their fastest corvettes. The fleet, small and maneuverable, drew itself away from the approaching enemy fleet behind the cover of defense platforms and densely mined sectors of space aimed at slowing down their advance. Long ago, military scholars more knowledgeable in the arts of war than Naier had determined a fully static defense to be indecisive in defense- a failure at worse.

Speed kept men and women alive, not armor or shields. Sith fighters, manned and droid alike that attempted to intercept the fleet were either they themselves intercepted by station AA defenses, friendly neighbouring fighter wings, or simply rendered ineffectual by the dense barrage of anti-fighter fire from Autumn's Escoltas.

Naier returned to his command deck, holding tightly onto the edges of the railings for stability. He pointed towards the amassed clump of Sith forces, allied or otherwise at Simone. "We've got to keep them distracted, however long as possible. We aren't so small a fleet to be ignored, but fast enough to outrun their heavier tonnage."

She hesitated before asking. "Are we getting relieved?" It was a legitimate question that Naier had no solid answer to give. Bastion was important enough to recall most of their active fleets, but who knew how long it was going to take for them to reinforce the defense? He simply shook his head. "We are currently unaware of the nearest battlegroup reinforcements, or even how long it will take for them to respond."

It was a disheartening confession to swallow down. There was an unspoken agreement between the Commodore and the Captain that they were actively losing this battle.

The other unspoken question was: Had they lost the war from the beginning?

They stared at each other, before breaking off to give out more commands to the crew- they'd cross that bridge later when they reached it.

---

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Fleet Roster Composition​

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Autumn Division - 3rd Fleet

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

---

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[Jaeger Harrsk]

H E L L I O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OBJECTIVE II: DANGER BELOW -> on the way to Fortress Imperator
C R U M B L I N G _ C A S T L E

Spoiler: THE STORY SO FAR

H E L L I O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OBJECTIVE II: DANGER BELOW
T H E _ P O T

Prelude.

And so they came. Demons en masse.

"Looks like your flight will be delayed, Lady Hejaran." the cigarette materialized in his hand as he watched over Ravelin through the large plate glass windows.

And so they came. Like a tide of darkness washing over the Imperial's capital.

"So roll up your damn fancy sleeves..." the commissioner puffed out a cloud of smoke.

And so they came. Like a shadow suffocating the light leaving behind only death and chaos.

Jaeger reached for the desk drawer and pulled out a gun.

And so they came like lions.

"...we've got Sith to kill." he offered her the gun. A smirk forming on his scarred face.

And so they will return like sheep.

Now...
COMPNOR HQ, Ravelin
Bastion

"Get on it, move damn it!!" Jaeger bellowed at the Tapani noble as the building around them began falling apart from the roof down. "To the lower levels! Keep your head down!"

Blaster fire flashed all around them, the shelling ripping apart whole sections of the structure and raining plaster, tiles, and durasteel over their heads. A whole fireteam of stormtroopers got squashed under the weight of a massive duracrete plate, barely missing the duo of Jaeger Harrsk and Elicia Hejaran .

They were on the backfoot. He could not believe it.

Not here, not on Bastion. Not in the heart of the Empire.

Not at home.

Alas.

"Seal it! Seal the damn door! Quick!" he barked.

Their near-fatal escape from COMPNOR HQ had led them to the underground levels of the headquarters in a room that looked, at a first glance, nothing more than a maintenance chamber. It was much more. A contingency room. In case of...

Panting, and for the first time in more than a decade, Jaeger Harrsk felt his feet give in. He crashed on the ground, leaned his head and back on the wall, and lit a cigarette. A thousand and one thoughts crossed his mind but after the first puff of smoke, only one remained.

He had failed but refused to admit it out loud.

He'd believed he would be able to lead the efforts in pushing back the Sith without help. Not out of quest for glory, promotion, nor medals but of spite against Lucien Dooku - his direct rival standing in the way of forming an Empire in Harrsk's image, in COMPNOR's image.

But not yet, no. There had to be a way without Dooku and without the fethin' Fel knight. COMPNOR could still turn the tide.

He could still turn the tide.

<"Sentinel, this is Hellion. Status on the Imperator?">

<"Hellion, this is Sentinel. Status unknown.">

<"Still?">

<"Still.">

<"Where the hell is he, damn it?!">

<"We've got no information, Sir.">

"FETH!" Harrsk slammed the comlink on the ground and resigned back on the wall. He glanced at Elicia, he had completely forgotten about her. "feth..." he muttered under his breath, then gazed at the comlink in his hand.

It felt like eternity had passed before Jaeger Harrsk surrendered.

<"Sentinel, this is Hellion. Send a coded, direct transmission to Lucien Dooku and Rurik Fel.">

<"Copy, Hellion. What's the transmission code?">

TARKIN HAS FALLEN.

NIO | ALLIES | Elicia Hejaran | Tyrell Paxxus | Rurik Fel | Lucien Dooku
TSE | ENEMIES | soon.png

Objective II: Danger Below
Allies: Jaeger Harrsk

"Looks like your flight will be delayed, Lady Hejaran."

Like locusts ravaging a crop, fleets of the Sith Empire dotted the sky and their legions plagued the soil. Guided by what they believed to be an ultimate righteousness, the Sith acted on power and were blind to anything which did not succumb to it. Few factions in the galaxy were willing to intervene in the omnipresent holy war between the Jedi and the Sith; of them, the New Imperial Order stood the most able to make a tangible dent in that war. That wasn't the only reason Elicia stood on Bastion alongside the Imperials on this day - it was personal. Time and time again, her adoptive homeworld of Coruscant has been razed in conflicts between religious zealot states, and it was her family that suffered because of it. Her families position, her position, depended upon the success of their business interests. The Sith Empire has made a habit of compromising those interests. No more.

Blaster fire consumed the corridors as the esteemed commissioner Harrsk and Elicia made their way to the sublevels of the building. Enemy ordinance rocked the foundations of the COMPNOR headquarters, unleashing a myriad of dust and debris seizing control of Elicia's airways. Fortunately she would have a chance to reassert control. Weaving though a seemingly endless barrage of enemy fire, Harrsk shouted at her to close the blast doors. Within seconds after passing through the doorway, Elicia slammed her palm on the door controls, promptly cutting the enemy troops off from the pair as they made their escape.

Despite the hardship just endured, she maintained her composure. Vulnerability was weakness, and she was a strict adherent to her public image. Decompression could take place in private. Her COMPNOR companion didn't have such standards however, as he sat on the ground against the wall, the only relief his melancholy would receive from the huff of a cigarette. Despite the obvious shock of the attack, words needn't be spoken to understand what was happening. The Sith weren't just on their doorstep - they were kicking the door in. Rather than engage in needless conversation, she just listened in on his comms with the broader Imperial network.

Things didn't sound good. The Imperator's whereabouts were unknown, and the expletives from Harrsk did little to reassure her of the optimism of the situation.

Tarkin has fallen.

Though she had no idea what the literal meaning was, the statement and the grief with which it was delivered was enough to pierce her soul with the gravity of the situation.

"What does it mean?", she asked. She almost didn't want to know. Though the New Imperial Order was on their back foot, it wasn't a guarantee that all was lost.

Progress is honed on necessary death. Today, it would beckon for the Sith.

H E L L I O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OBJECTIVE II: DANGER BELOW
C R U M B L I N G _ C A S T L E

Tarkin has fallen.

"What does it mean?" Elicia asked.

He leaned on the command table in the middle of the room, smoke lingered from his cigarette and silence beset her question. It took him a minute of aimless glaring nowhere before he replied,

"It means the fuse has been lit, Bastion is a ticking bomb. If reinforcements do not arrive in time - all is lost."

A series of thunderous explosions battered the building and rattled his bones, almost throwing him to the ground. Jaeger held tight the sides of the table for a few very long moments before the tremors ceded to an unnatural, and rather ominous, stillness. Gone was all sense of life.

"What the hell was that?!"

<"Sir, this is Sentinel. Do you copy?! Are you alive?!">

<"You bet I am, what the kark was that?!">

<"Commissioner--Sir, Grand Vizier Paxxus called an orbital strike on COMPNOR HQ-">

<"WHAT?!"> Jaeger's face turned pale, then red, then pale, then red. Ever since his miraculous survival on Dantooine, Tyrell Paxxus had not been the same man. He walked like a man, but reeked of death. Of corpse. Of insanity. The commissioner ran a hand over his face in disbelief and anger. Something had to be done about Paxxus before he threw them all to oblivion all too soon. Did Tavlar's disappearance have anything to do with the unhinged Vizier, who before his 'death' had revealed himself as the Imperator's father? The thought drifted his mind for longer than it needed; too many question, so little answers and none solved their predicament.

The commissioner composed himself, flicking the finished cigarette away and turning on the holoprojector of the table. Ravelin erupted to life in blue and white.

<"Talk to me - what else has he done?"> his voice had grown cold and calculated but emotion still lingered in its deepest notes.

<"He's designated hostile targets as Dark and...sent Sith-Imperial prisoners of war as bait; sheep to the slaughter."> the answer did not draw another salvo of wrath. Just concern; Jaeger was not below committing crimes of war, neither were the Sith. COMPNOR fought fire with fire. Harrsk fought fire with fire. He would execute unarmed combatants with a smirk. The New Imperial's monster with dark charisma.

But that was not who Tyrell was. The commissioner couldn't help but maintain suspicion over Paxxus and the disappearance of the Imperator at such a crucial time. He could do nothing about it now, not yet at least.

<"Copy. And the battle? Give me a sitrep.">

<"On the--backfoot, Sir."> Sentinel replied with a barely audible sigh. <"General Tal and Major Barran have assumed de-facto control on the ground defence of Ravelin-">

<"The Galidraanis?">

<"Yes, Sir.">

<"Good.">

<"Confederates have arrived along with the Sith--">

"Brothers in arms, huh? Hear that, Lady Hejaran?" Jaeger chuckled looking at the Tapani noble, whilst Sentinel continued his report.

<"--and lastly, there has been unnaturally high activity according to our sensors in the tunnels below.">

<"Roger, keep me updated. Hellion out."> Jaeger cut off the transmission and made haste.

"We need to get out of here." he told Elicia the obvious and smirked, "You'd rather die with guns blazing rather than out of boredom down here, yeah?"

The commissioner reached for a hidden compartment, activated a switch and the wall slid open to reveal an armory; unlike standard armories - this one contained specialized Force hunting gear, along with the conventional and unconventional warfare equipment. Contingencies upon contingencies. Paranoia was the unwritten tenet of COMPNOR - the New Imperial organization known for its ideological subversion capabilities as equally as their phobia of Force cults.

"Pick your tombstone, lady." Jaeger chuckled inaudibly but did not wait for her. He quickly began equipping the gear he believed would serve him best. "Never asked - but you married?"

Ah, yes - small talk; Harrsk's ultimating coping mechanism when he stood on the precipice of death.



NIO | ALLIES | Elicia Hejaran | Tyrell Paxxus | Rurik Fel | Lucien Dooku
TSE | ENEMIES | soon.png

Objective II: Danger Below
Allies: Jaeger Harrsk

Not good. Letting out a huff of smoke, Harrsk was ominous in his warning - no reinforcements, no Bastion.

Another tremor rocked the headquarters, no doubt from Sith ordinance. Any calm Harrsk was regaining quickly dissipated as news came through on his comms. Her stake in the New Imperial Order was less personal than that of her COMPNOR counterpart, but she empathized with Harrsk as he tried to come to terms with his leader's betrayal.

Elicia had little sympathy for the Sith and those who followed them, but she wasn't unaware that they conscripted a great number of innocents from their conquests. A part of her wanted to feel disgust - legions of individuals forced to fight for a cause they didn't believe in for a nation they didn't support only to be ended by the faction they were forced to fight for. That sympathy quickly disappeared as the building shook once more from the shellacking ordered by one of the NIO's principal executives.

In the meanwhile, the Confederacy had also arrived. The overt Sith masquerading as a democratic institution, the very same which has claimed dominion over the Tapani sector for the past several years. Now all her enemies were in one place.

"We need to get out of here."

With a prideful smirk, Harrsk revealed a secret compartment unveiling an impressive armory for its compact size. Elicia was confident that her songsteel cybernetics and detachment from the Force alone made her a formidable opponent for any Force wielder, but this COMPNOR equipment was a welcome addition to her collection. As Harrsk began arming himself to the teeth, so too did Elicia.

"Never asked - but you married?"

If it weren't for her ironclad emotional control, she'd have rolled her eyes and scoffed. Instead, she elected to focus on the task at hand without dignifying the question. Her gender would not serve as a barrier in perception or reality, nor would she indulge rhetoric which might undermine such a stance.

"Let's go."

​

"Divorced, will take it." Jaeger scoffed at Elicia's disregard for his previous question. Despite the heavy load of gear he equipped himself with, the process did not take long. Muscle memory, experience. He'd done this before a million times to the point it had a soothing sense to it.

The commissioner locked the armory behind them, grabbed the portable holoprojector and hurried to one specific side of the wall. He glared at it for at least ten seconds before a laser of red materialized from it scanning his face. It disappeared and for a moment there was nothing, not until the wall suddenly slid open revealing a tunnel before the duo.

"Follow me." he beckoned to the noble and lead the way into the near infinite maze of tunnels beneath the endlessly spanning city of Ravelin. "Keep your eyes open, these tunnels are usually empty but something has been tripping sensors."

He looked back at her, "...and I am pretty sure that something is rats."

"Sith rats."

Through the dimly lit tunnels they went, some as wide as cruiser hangars and others as thin as maintenance shafts. No one really knew how far they spanned, nor was there any complete blueprints of the whole infrastructure. A lot of was mapped but questions remained how much more wasn't. Harrsk's only trusted guide was the flickering blue holomap emerging from his wrist and his guts; and he trusted the latter more.

<"Hellion, this is Sentinel. Do you copy?">

<"Go ahead, Sentinel.">

<"Be advised, Sir. Imperial Knights have been deployed into the tunnels and are engaging Sith elements not far from your vicinity.">

<"Roger."> he replied, then,<"and--there been a casualty report on COMPNOR HQ?">

<"Yes, Sir--estimated at 85%."> Sentinel replied solemnly.

"That son of a schutta..." Harrsk muttered then growled, "FETH!"

If they survived the onslaught today, Jaeger could not fathom the dent this strike has put into COMPNOR's efforts and by extension thew New Imperial's. There was no recovery from what their own did to them. The Grand Vizier had to pay.

He turned sharply right on the next junction, "Through here. This will take us to Fortress Imperator."

"We're not engaging them?" she asked.*

"No." he retorted grimly, a sour note in his tone as he added, "we have a bigger problem."

Tyrell Paxxus .

Time was running out for them all and the insanity of the Grand Vizier was shortening the fuse.

"If we wanna have just a tiny lil' bit of chance to make it outta this alive, we gotta stop the damn Vizier before he buries us all."

Just a fraction of a moment could decide the outcome and Harrsk wasn't leaving it to the unhinged Man in Fortress Imperator.

They carried on, the distant clamor of war in the tunnels left behind as they drew nearer on the supposed entry into the fortress. Their trek was accompanied by foreboding silence and the eerie, imaginary hiss of a fuse burning.

The end of their journey was marked when they reached large sealed doors with what looked like a brand new control panel next to them. Repairs had still been ongoing since their reclamation of Bastion. Far slower than scheduled due to the costly war efforts.

Jaeger reached for the panel and provided his fingerprints. The massive doors hummed, then slowly slid open. The hums of war grew louder as they departed the tunnels into the fortress. None greeted them until they reached the turbolifts where an armed checkpoint had been standing watch. Pickets for any hostile activity from the tunnels.

"HALT!" one of the stormtroopers barked, the sergeant's pauldron emanating authority but not his voice. Green as grass, Harrsk could tell. How many hardened veterans had they lost through the campaign across the Braxant Run? They had been scrapping the barrel ever since; now more than ever.

"Relax, relax." the commissioner raised his arms. "Commissioner Jaeger Harrsk, run me up, kid. Fast."

"Do not move an inch!" the trooper ordered and projected a beam from his wrist scanning both Jaeger and his companion Elicia. "Apologies, Sir."

He moved out from their way and the duo carried on into the turbolift. It would take them all the way up to where High Command was located. The doors of the lift shut closed behind them but Jaeger did not touch any buttons, instead he turned to Elicia.

"If they don't get here on time, we all die anyway." Jaeger stated as-a-matter-of-factly and hovered his hand over the lift's buttons. "I have to do what I have to do, but if you think you can try and survive on your own--" he gestured at the turbolifts buttons. "--you're free to do so."

Paxxus had gone insane, whether through some Sith trickery or magic or not mattered little. His authority made him a liability to Bastion's last stand and the little kindle of hope the New Imperials had in standing tall until the Executor and Dooku arrived. The power the Vizier yielded, combined with the madness...if COMPNOR HQ was first, then Bastion could be second. Someone had to give them that damn lil' bit fighting chance.

Someone had to cross the line to make sure the line's still there in the morning.

"Your choice, Lady."

"Will you cross the line?"

NIO | ALLIES | Elicia Hejaran | Tyrell Paxxus (TBD)
TSE | ENEMIES | soon.png

​

​

 

[Aelys]

PROSPERITY
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
STRIKE TEAM SKYWALKER
SABERSTAFF

War.

Or at least, a battle.

The difference didn't particularly matter to Aelys, as long as he got to fight he was content. Such were his thoughts, for combat was the sole thing that he extraordinarily excelled in. That much had been made clear on Jedha. The first time he had faced the Sith, he had caught Darth Strosius in the act of murdering an unarmed woman. Innocent and defenseless. The Sith killed them without care, believing themselves to be better, but when a tried warrior pressed them, they faltered, as did that Sith before him.

Pacing back and forth across the bridge, he ignored his nearby Master's conversation with Master Arcanus. Instead, he recalled his short tenure under Ryv 's tutelage.

For years, Aelys had been plagued by a lack of purpose. Inaction, after fleeing from the Core in the hopes of avoiding an untimely death by the hands of the Imperial Bloc that rendered the first Galactic Alliance inert. It was in his solitude and guidance from his elders that saw him returned to Coruscant, years later to complete his Jedi training, to put an end to the nagging at the back of his mind that truly wanted to achieve his goals. He had conveyed as much to the Sword of the Jedi, who seemed to know all the right words to say to convince him.

"The galaxy needs heroes, Aelys. Now more than ever.

Heroes?

Growing up in the sands of Thyrsus, it had been all he ever wanted. It was selfish, untrue to the tenets of the Jedi. Aelys knew it, Ryv did too, but in his pacing did Aelys recognize that as long as an entity like the Sith Empire existed, so would paragons of the Light rise to meet them. He held disparaging feelings to the New Imperials, but they were the ones that rose up to fight the Sith. Breaking away from their cruelty and rising to fight them, becoming more of a threat than any Jedi backed nation had before them. It was for those reasons that he couldn't blame his teacher for his connections with the Imperials.

Today will be worse than Jedha.

A good fight. One that was written into the annals of history, securing his name with immortality as a famed warrior. Among the likes of Arcanus Sunstrider. Watching his Master lean over the console, a moment later he heard his voice come out across the ships intercoms, and his pacing came to an end.

A world on fire. Aelys blinked. He had never been to Bastion, but he could imagine it as any other city. His hands tensed, clenching and unclenching in his jacket pockets, nostrils flaring as he stared into the swirl of blue and whites through the viewport. Hyperspace. If what he had seen on Jedha, what he had heard his entire life was true, the Sith would be killing anyone in sight without mercy or care.

Closing in on his Master, he faintly overheard his last words. Rurik? Huh? Shaking his head, he came up alongside the Sword. "We'll get there in time." Aelys spoke the words, but inside, he couldn't determine if he believed them or not? Had he been faster on Jedha, he could've saved that womans life. They were spoken with an attempt for comfort, but Aelys sought to find some for himself. How many innocents had already died? How many countless more would die in an hour?

"We've got to," he whispered.

New Jedi Order: Loske Treicolt , Aaran Tafo , Auteme , Creuat , Ripley Kühn , Zaavik Perl , Krau Rook
New Imperial Order

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Cotan Sar'andor​

“It hungers for you more than most.”

The Empress smirked within her helmet.

Opening her hand, the red cape flared out like a net and shot at Cotan. The edges spread out as if seeking to envelop him, irrespective of his blade. It either sought to entrap and restrain him, to pave the way for her attack, or at least to divert his attention for the same end.

“Who’s to say this isn’t what friendship looks like?”

Irrespective, Joycelyn followed shortly after the flaring cape. Zaudraka flashed as she stepped and lunged at Cotan with the long, vicious blade.

She aimed her thrust at the centre of his sternum, but deep down she had a feeling this would not be over so easily. She knew Cotan was a crafty swordsman. If she were to defeat him, it would be through power and guile, not cheap tricks.

As Zaudraka ripped through the air, embers trailed off the black blade, tumbling over her armoured hands and arms. reflecting themselves in the polished, black plates in which she encased her body.

To her soldiers, the shape of that dark titan with fire and fury in her hand represented wrath and justice. Their wrath, like the fear of her enemies, in turn fed her.

 

[FN-999]

POST: II
OBJECTIVE: I
LOCATION: Fortress Imperator, North Gate
EQUIPMENT: In signature, Reaper Chainblaster
UNIT: The 19th Stormtrooper Assault Company (240/240) (see detailed status on tactical map)
ALLIES: NIO | Uriel Tokarev (in radio proximity) | Djorn Bline | Lyra Voi’kryt | Creuat Willan Tal | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Tyrell Paxxus Berik | Meko Sorrin | Zakaria Black | Vostok Grauv
HOSTILES: TSE |@UX-0626 (indirectly engaging via airstrike)

​

“Come in 19th company, this is Granger Actual, escorted by Granger 1 and 2. In holding formation near 6,000 ft and awaiting targets, over. We'll provide fire support to other in need platoons if you have no need for us, just keep coms open.”

[Granger Actual, this is Captain FN-999. We appreciate your air support, and will let you know if you are needed.]

FN-999 closed his comms channel and returned his gaze to the formation ahead. The 19th remained secure in their wedge, their weapons trained down the six-lane road that had been cleared of all cover that any hostile could use unless they were to bring in their own defensive networks. Otherwise, any formation smaller than a battalion walking down the road to the north gate would be mowed down in an instant. All that was left for the company to do was to anxiously await their foes.

[Captain Nines, this is Lieutenant ST-1121 of the 319th. Our scouts are detecting a hostile unit of roughly company-size setting up a bulwark near our position. Should we move to intercept?]

The 319th was the rightmost of the line platoons in formation, placed to guard the two right flank assault platoons from an attack from the far right. If the 319th was to break formation and actively engage a Sith detachment, it would become a highly risky maneuver. If they succeeded in ambushing the formation before they could secure their landing zone, then they could potentially keep thousands of hostiles in the air. However, their departure would leave the right assault platoons vulnerable to more maneuverable hostile line and light cavalry formations, potentially leading to a complete collapse of the right flank. FN-999 considered these possibilities, and then found a third. There was another way to strike down the Sith detachment, one that did not require any trooper of the 19th to break formation.

[ST-1121, do NOT move to intercept. I have another idea.]

FN-999 changed the configuration of his comms network to address the entire company, rather than person-to-person, before continuing.

[We're going to be calling in an airstrike to scatter the Sith units from a nearby landing zone. Once they get onto the main road, fire away. Everyone, set your sights about a kilometer ahead.]

FN-999 then reverted the configuration back to individual connection.

[Granger Actual, this is Captain FN-999. I'm requesting an airstrike on a square sector with a 100m radius a kilometer northeast of the North Gate. If you can, try to angle the strike so any survivors would run into our lane of fire on the main road to the west of the sector.]

​

 

[Runi Verin]

LOCATION: Ravelin, Bastion
OBJECTIVE: 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

The Kiffar retreated back a pace or three as the alleyway became awash with a mess of writhing long shadows. Boots scraping across the rough duracrete paving stones as she slid into a well practiced battle stance, narrowing her profile while bringing up her curved knife in a defencive position while the other hand produced a hefty knuckleduster in preparation. Her gaze flickering as the shadows lashed out, eyes narrowing as they assessed each attach, either dismissing or adjusting her position accordingly to stay out of their reach. Not that it seemed to be an actual attack, more...

Intimidation?

Those scarred lips curled into a rough approximation of a smile. If her opponent was expecting her to cower and be afraid, then she would be sadly disappointed. Whatever deep seated, lizard brain response the spacer should have experienced at being subjected to the desonate whispers and ghoulish dark shadows was simply missing. Lost in the empty emotional void created by the alchemised trinket piercing her left ear, suppressing any and all fear she might have otherwise been subjected to right now. Instead there was simply a flicker of irritation that quickly (and predictably) sparked the Kiffar’s infamous anger.

“Cute trick,” She ground out, whatever amusement in her smile quickly fading to reveal something decidedly less warm. Dark eyes shifting from the shadows to try and pinpoint the source. What was her luck with shadowy force users as of late? It seemed the galaxy had grown darker in recent years in more ways than one. “I’ve seen the likes of it before, though. But then you seem to know that.”

The air around her became increasingly thick and almost oppressive as she spoke, as if layers upon layers of the force being folded into the Kiffar’s body. Her muscles becoming increasingly taut, straining under the pressure, body coiling like a spring to be unleashed. Waiting only for an opening. “For what it is worth, I offered him a way out. Free an’ clear.”

She shifted again as another tentacle whipped out, alchemised blade slicing it neatly in two and sending it scurrying backwards. “But I guess he cared more about baubles an’ trinkets than he did you, ‘lek? Certainly wasn’t your name on his lips when he breathed his last.”

There was a dry, mirthless chuckle. Adrian had been a worth opponent, and it was irritating for her to demean him like this, but against someone that was clearly emotionally involved...

“Of course, it was hard to tell what with the cryin’ an’ pleadin’ that was going on. Downright embarrassin’ really...”

Take the bait. Show yourself. Give me a target to hit.

 

[Vostok Grauv]

Phase -01- Alpha Class Dark Trooper


Vostok Grauv


New Imperial Order


Location: Maximillian Heights, Near DECEASED Erskine Barran
Allies Tags: Tyrell Paxxus | Jaeger Harrsk | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Rika Hiro | Enedina Tal | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Djorn Bline | Willan Tal
Opposition: TSE | CIS | Lark

Post #3

​

Flailing tongues and spiteful claws chanced upon Vostok, his grip being that of a vice as he wrestled against the weight of a most foul beast, holding it at a distance as it howled and gurgled - repulsive slime oozing from its maw as others of its brood took notice of their sibling struggling for its meal. Scurrying, misshapen flesh rushed on, fueled by hunger and twisted instinct.

Managing to overpower the abomination, Vostok slammed it to the ground and followed up with an armored boot to the head, its incessant gnashing and guttural noise silenced; soon after the Dark Trooper found himself toppled, his armor being assaulted as Sithspawn tried for his limbs and helmet. Breathing heavily and fighting through the pressure bearing down on his body, Vostok placed both hands upon the creature desperately trying for his face, locking his fingers around its skull and squeezing as hard as he could.

It wailed and thrashed, eventually succumbing as an audible cracking noise managed to stand out among the chorus of screeching; reaching down to his left leg and retrieving his pistol without hesitation, a steady succession of discharges made relatively quick work of the remaining creatures. Slight convulsions replacing the once hyperactive movement of the Sith's children. A much preferred alternative to their irritating existence.

Becoming a tad lightheaded, Vostok ceased any further engagement momentarily while he gathered his thoughts and composure, slowly picking himself up with some difficulty included.

< //LOCALIZED THREAT EXTERMINATED; ALLIED REPORTS OF FORCE SENSITIVES WITHIN VICINITY, EXTREME CAUTION ADVISED, NEARBY FRIENDLY CONTINGENT IDENTIFIED; 2ND BATTALION, "BLUE-HEARTS" DETECTED// >
​

"Punished Hound to Blue-Heart Alpha, I'm attempting to merge on your coordinates. Be advised, there may be more than just Sithspawn roaming the general area, be on your toes and keep things hot."

Holstering his sidearm, Vostok switched over to his prime platform, leveling his sight with the optic as he steadily advanced through the last stretch between himself and his allies; periodically gunning down any further sightings of filth eager for its next appetizer, instead treating them to a hot and lethal salvo of bolts.

Upon rounding the corner of a street, the Dark Trooper was met with the picturesque display of Galidraani forces brutalizing a swarm of unfortunate Sithspawn, a sly smirk spreading over Vostok's features as he readied himself to charge. "Bastion stands..." He whispered, his massive frame shifting forward as he flung himself into the fray once more; rapid fire streaks of crimson ripping through forsaken bones, scorching their vile presence into oblivion.

And with him followed fury untamed.

Music
​

​

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Tags: Auteme
Gear: In signature ​

"Violently throwing yourself at an unknown is heedless. Nothing I do is heedless." Having split into two halves, the pieces of her hand closed with a dry snap as the gun retreated back into her forearm. Cara stalked the perimeter of the iron sun medallion, not yet stepping inside the circle. "You think I’d fall for that? Are you naïve or think me stupid?" The youth from the girl’s voice convinced Cara of the former. Her glare softened into a frown, something she allowed only due to the sanctuary of her visor.

"Realize you are aiding the ones who slaughtered their apostate dogs on these very streets. You’re standing on stolen ground, young one. Do not say I didn’t give you a chance."

A red countdown, triggered by outside events, appeared in the corner of her visor.

Chit.

Cara shoved off her right foot in a forward push at the girl. She raised her fist level with her helmet’s chin in a telegraphed attack-- a blatant right hook, easily dodged with a side-step. To an outsider it was an amateur's move with little thought. To Cara it was bait, her left arm kept level to her waist and intended to deliver the real blow to the stomach.

Even if she had meant what she'd claimed to swear how could Cara know? The girl was allied with the defectors, those who sought Sith annihilation, and she dared to offer accord? A ruse, surely.

Possibly.

But Cara pushed away the doubt to carry through with her offensive. Time was not affording her the chance to second-guess, to debate, to compromise. Outside the stone walls of the garden Ravelin was shouting for her children, and they would answer.

 

[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)​

No, she didn't think the woman would be scared of that much, after all, she was a Zambrano. Ingrid was much more curious about the reactions, how the woman reacts to what is happening here. It was certain that the legendary rage of the Kiffars was in the woman as well. Had she met someone like her Certainly not like Ingrid, she was unique. Did that probably mean Adrian? It is possible, but the woman was unaware of this, if she had anything to do with the man, she had made a mistake, perhaps because they were similar in many ways and had learned most of the sorcery from him. It was conceivable because of the long time they had spent together, Ingrid picked it up as Adrian had fought. She has always been extremely adaptive.

Dun Möch; knew exactly this method, Ingrid also used it. She was pretty much able to guess what was true and what was a lie in Runi’s words. It wasn’t the words that hurt her, but the fact that the man wasn’t with her, the lack of him. No; she knew her husband so much that she knew she was not the Sith Lord last thought. It was hard for Adrian to recognize the emotions, or to admit them, he didn't know for a very long time what he felt about Ingrid even though they were already in love. No; who knew him knew that 99.99% was the change himself was his last thought. And that was okay, the red-haired woman accepted that. And yes, it was very much Adrian that he wanted to save the relics and artefacts.

~ Why were you so stupid? How many times have I asked you to be yourself and run away? And why weren’t the Karza’aranas with you?~ thoughts.

Felt only a moment of severe mental pain, even feeling tears streaming down her face under her helmet. Still wanted to hate Runi, but was still unable to. It was just corrosive, cold pain and emptiness. What suddenly passed, the necklace with the amulet was now even more responsive and filled the void, the pain was gone. It was all just a cheap trick when the situation was over and she didn’t feel the extreme pain again the reaction wouldn’t be that strong either. Could feel Adrian's warm hand on her face, the other hand around her hip, the great trick of the soul shard, a soft calming whisper. What she didn't understand the words, knew there was probably no whispering, just her mind playing with her. The soul shard was not capable of creating real words. It had the effect of wiping tears from her face and then squeezing her close. Just like at PL when she taught Adrian about new science. As looked up saw for a moment the way her husband was smirking softly and then saw reality again.

A broken heart and soul…

Runi was wrong if she thought she could upset her with this. Controlled her emotions all the more. Well this time needed the soulshard for that, she would have collapsed without it, but could stay strong with it. She had been a warrior and assassin long enough to know that during the game the other woman did everything she could to make Ingrid lose her patience and attack. That's why she didn't do this.

~ Do you really think I don’t know my husband and I don’t know what he was like? If so, you’re stupider than what the Zambranoes said about you. ~ said telepathically, in a cold, military voice, without emotion, and the shadows whispered the same. ~ Do you even know where I am? ~

The next moment, one of the shadows took on a human formality, then slammed in the direction of Runi, at the same time Ingrid tried to hit the woman's back with a telekinetic blow from that direction. It was really just an illusion now, no more; at least the shadow. The next shadow moved from the side, in the same way a telekinetic blow was paired with it, here Ingrid tried to push the woman's side, hit it. With the third “blow,” tried to hit Runi’s nape, and with the fourth, she was trying to hit the woman with a “fist” on her face. None of the punches were particularly strong, they were rather disturbing if they hit the woman, since there were telekinetic attacks, if Runi moved, she could inadvertently avoid these attacks, which could no longer be corrected. With this, Ingrid wanted to assess the reactions and the fighting style, what she could expect from the other woman.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

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

LOCATION: 300 Metres away from Fort Imperator's outer-gate

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

<"CC Eighteen to Blue-Heart Alpha! We're being followed, milord! Standing by for orders!">
Of course yees are, the Sith always did have that convenient timing after all.... So predictable.

Clenching his jaw again, the Lord-Major sneered at his comms-device (set to laser communication) before replying,'Turn all turrets northward and order the tanks up-front to slow down, CC Eighteen. And hold your fire until they start trying to close the gap, I have an idea. Blue-Heart Alpha out!'. He knew there would eventually be pursuers behind their column in particular, but Erskine understood that a fighting retreat would kick the urgency into the Blue-Hearts again; it would be just enough to keep them in the fight until they reached Fort Imperator, with it's imposing walls being seen from almost two streets away, so the Lord-Major's trusty tank battalion were close enough to see that they were approaching the movement-action's last hurdle.

'Shugg, eyes ahead! Vostok's Dark Troopers are setting up to the east, seen?'

'Seen', the eager captain replied, though he was bleeding profusely from a cut on the top of his head, and the blood was forcing him to keep his left eyelid closed until medical assistance could be administered. It would be a sorry sight if Shugg wasn't at his meanest, keeping his jaw clenched whenever he wasn't talking, with eyes wide open and maniacally darting back-and-forth between potential blind-spots; and all the while, a headless enemy legionnaire was sat between, holding aloft a Sith banner that had singes all along the edges of it's topside threads.

<"Punished Hound to Blue-Heart Alpha, I'm attempting to merge on your coordinates. Be advised, there may be more than just Sithspawn roaming the general area, be on your toes and keep things hot.">

'How did he- no bad, Vostok. Yer oan the ball like the mumps the-day, mate.', Erskine muttered to himself, intending to thank the Dark Troopers' commander in person if the opportunity ever presented itself. Yet the breathing room had run out all too soon, presenting the Lord-Major no other option but to spring to action; their supposedly-tentative opposition had finally moved to attack the rear of the Cataphract column, but the riflemen and Cataphract-crews were ready for this, returning fire with equal ferocity as they rolled ever closer to Vostok's merging-point. As Barran was being pulled to his feet, he unholstered his pistol to reload it as he muttered,'Shugg, pass the order to run for our ally's left flank. Once we get there, I'll have more orders to give, so stay close if you can.'

'Yes, milord!'

Once the orders made their way down the line, everyone kicked themselves into high-gear, though the Guard-Company held the line to give covering-fire for those who had not been able to make a break for it yet. The merge was not yet in place, and though the troops and tanks were all moving in the general direction of safety towards the gate, Barran somehow knew he needed to hold off for just a little longer. Shugg was raising his eyebrow at the sight of it, but his Lord-Major just brushed it off with a shoo'ing hand gesture, and a mumbled,'Gie it a minute, man.', as he watched on with baited breath. However, it didn't take long for Erskine to come to his decision, and so he brought the comms-device to life once more to exclaim,'This is Blue-Heart Alpha, halt the line - I repeat, halt the line! I want you all to turn eastward, then I want you all to rotate and merge into Vostok's formation! On my mark - ALL ADVANCE!'

Following his commands to the letter, the entire column stretched out and ran towards the Dark Troopers' defensive-line, either reloading their weapons or waving friendly intentions to Vostok's men as they approached their new acquaintances. With tanks instinctively moving in oblique order, with the riflemen and anti-armour troops augmenting the strength of Vostok's firepower, the Blue-Hearts' most-unfortunate pursuers were subjected to a high-powered wall of death-rays, shells and rockets, and there was very little the Sith troopers could do to answer the bolstered defence of Fort Imperator's outer gate; not even with the combined efforts of the stalking legionnaires and sith-spawn returning from their rout, and so the obliterated foemen had no choice but to peel back in the face of sterner competition. Taking this chance, the Blue-Hearts made for the outer gate as the Dark Troopers held their ground, holding to promises made to their Brigadier-General as Vostok's warriors continued unleashing fury on the northeastern flank.

After having the great fortune of reaching the courtyard in front of Fort Imperator's outer gate, the Blue Hearts had been given a chance to run inside and link up with the other Galidraanis, but something changed the Lord-Major's mind when they neared the opened gate itself. Seeing that Vostok and his men had created a perfect diversion for their safe entry to the fort, a pang of guilt began to turn Erskine's stomach as he recalled the sheer audacity of his ally's actions, forcing him to order his men to fight in the open one last time; but something else happened, solidifying the convictions that drove him to give such an order, even after all he'd put them through by then. Every Blue-Heart at the gate had turned to reengage, and without a single groan of dissatisfaction to be heard from any of them; a sight that gave heart to a Major who, for the first time since he was a young Leftenant, felt that he had just asked too much of his subordinates.

'Open transmission; Major Barran to Punished Hound! You helped the Blue-Hearts, so we're on our way back to get in on the action. Blue-Heart Alpha out! End transmission.'

Turning round to find his neck-bandaged Guard-Sergeant looking his way, pointing to the bandage on his Lord-Major's shoulder, they both nodded to each other in silence. Before they changed their own bandages, the distant cacophony of explosions and high-powered ordnance shook the ground beneath their boots again, almost chiding them both into hurrying up with their efforts; to their luck, Kandaran and Galidraani medics had been working close by, with two Northern-Galidraanis jumping to action as soon as they saw the bloodied pair begin to peel off their bloodied strips of what had once been cloth. Curious as medics in the NIO were known to be, one pointed out,'This isn't like any field-dressing I've ever used, Milord.', as he wrapped it into a ball and threw it away.

'That's because we tore those strips from a Sith banner, medic. The Sith Legionnaire we found holding it didn't need it any more, I'm sure you understand.'

In response, the medic instantly wiped his hands on his disposable medical-tunic, making a show of being disgusted as he jokingly rounded on the Guard-Sergeant, smirking as he asked,'And you let me touch that damned thing? Did you not, for one moment, consider that sith-spawn could've put their putrid mitts on the damned thing beforehand?'
​

​

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Joycelyn Zambrano Vaulkhar

​

If this was what Joycelyn's friendship was like, Cotan was glad he wasn't the subject of her love.

When the cape was flung, seeking to entrap him, he started to take a wide step to the right; he jerked his left hand over, turning on the ball of his extended foot as he sent the red cape sharply to the left. Zaudraka's black metal thrust through where he'd just been standing, before being slammed into and enveloped by the floating cloth, pulling it wider. Backpedalling more, he watched the fur collar of the cloak catch flame, acrid smoke rising from it as the fibers burned.

Then he stopped, their previous distance reestablished, just at a different orientation. "Simple tricks, dear?" he asked, raising one eyebrow mockingly. "I'd have thought your father taught you better than that, but if you believe your being made empress means anything, maybe he decided it wasn't worth it to bother." He cocked his head over slightly, a small smile on his lips.

"Regardless, you'll have to be faster than that."

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

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

Alchemised steel met the hot flames. The sorcery imbued into his blade and robes seemed to do a good absorbing or mitigating her attack. However, she heard the grunt and felt a sensation of pain emanating from him. Ironically, Elpsis' father - not that the monster deserved the title - had been a Sith alchemist of considerable skill. However, Xerexes had used his gifts to create alchemised monstrosities, not for transmutation.

Inferno held firmly in her dominant hand, Elpsis readied herself for another stroke of the Sith's sword. However, with somewhat fidgety movements, the Sith shifted his position, assuming a defensive stance. His counterattack was a lot more elemental. In short, closer to the kind of strategem she might have employed. He was clearly not the type of Sith she was accustomed to duelling.

Suddenly, there was a loud howl of the wind as air rushed towards her. It was like a sudden clap of thunder. Pain shot through her ears. It felt like her eardrums were about to burst. Elpsis swayed, feeling a spell of dizziness and vertigo as she fought against the sensation. Blood seeped out of her eardrums. Anger surged through her. To shield her hearing, she wrapped an improvised barrier around her head. A ringing sound remained.

There was pain, but she could soldier through it. And she struck back. Stretching out with her will, she harnessed the air currents the Sith Lord had so expertly manipulated. The air temperature increased rapidly as she superheated the air. Then she threw it back at him, assailing him what amounted to a small fire tornado meant to both cook him and slam him through the air.

 

[Savoh Muska]

Enemies: Moff Drybis Lyken Thaelius Ordo SV-2121 Grand Moff Aut-X
Allies: Var Koon Savoh Muska Naier Rambeigh Len Vert Des Harz Fiolette Fortan Captain Gallius Orcana
​

Through most of this engagement Savoh was hoping that he could go unnoticed with his tiny trio of tiny ships. With the point defense cannons on all three of them they would occasionally fire at and hopefully tear down cheeky starfighter or shuttle that got a little two close.

"Looking" out over the bridge of his rather small command cruiser Savoh had been watching the greater fleets engaging one another overhead. Since he was in a relatively low orbit compared to them but could still witness a great deal of what was going on. Especially with the cybernetics he had in his brain. Allowing him to process information at a superhuman level. He was almost constantly communicating with the computers in the three ships under his control. Micromanaging things behind the scene to an almost absurd degree. It also allowed to maintain a virtual skeleton crew on his ships. Since he hardly trusted organics.

Throughout the battle so far he'd been relegated to small scale orbital bombardments and support. Getting orders and requests for the odd coordinates here and there that other military officers wanted a place or group obliterated from space. Such is the great role he played in the New Imperial Navy.

However, a relatively soothing experience of blowing up people from afar was ruined. Onrai had taken notice to his rather out of the way support compared to the greater space battle above him. "Looking" out the command deck everything suddenly became green, bright green. Turbolasers had raced down from above upon his ship. Violently rattling his ship and it's shields.

The shields were make quick work off before a blast to the front of the hull was felt. The front of his ship taking some rough looking damage. Whatever they were looking to accomplish by blasting his ships they probably got since this took priority from firing their turbolasers down on the planet.

"Redirect all shields topside. Not point in wasting energy protecting ourselves from bellow just yet." Savoh order his men in a cold voice from his vocalizer. He was about to give another command but he close observed the greater conflict raging above.

"Perform a rising maneuver, we're gonna need to join in on the rest of the fleet." he was then notified that a fire had started in the large wound in the from of the ship. "Have our reserved droid crew fight the fires in the front of the ship. We can't have our organics to getting hurt in there."

Despite the wounds, his Arquitens-Class Command Cruiser and two raider class corvettes are rising up to join up with the greeting NIO fleet above them to provide greater starfighter screening and auxiliary support.

TLDR summary:
Ship got hurt and is rising from low orbit to join up closer to the greater NIO fleet to aid in a anti-starfighter roll.

​

​

 

[Ty Sibo]

Location:
Ravelin, Bastion
Objectives:
Ty's objective: Establish beachhead and fob, coordinate strikemissions and assist allies , battle the forces of Willan Tal and DECEASED Erskine Barran
Scarecrows objectives: shuttlecraft To establish a beachhead for ally forces, joining the armor convoy to punch threw checkpoints, Burn and kill wounded at the medical checkpoint assist Ty and his deathsquad with assaulting the fort
Ty's equipment:Protosaber, biosuit, H.A.R.M. mk 1 armor. Anti material rifle, Heavy service pistol, 4 man EE biodroid squad
Scarecrows equipment: 25x 001 biodroids, H.A.R.M. MK1 ARMOR, Armor bodysuit, Laser battle rifle, M-416's, GMG's, 1x tank destroyer. 2x armored infantry vehicles, 3x heavy gunship shuttles, 24x EE biodroid squad
Tag DECEASED Erskine Barran , Willan Tal
Losses: 11 001 biodroids, 12 EE biodroids, and 1 APC

After decimating the few blue hearts left in the building Ty contacted all Gunships in the area. "Spooky, Bones, and Dogma rearm and refuel at Beachhead I want your missiles to consist of only discord and hex missiles ty out" The aircraft flew back from their various areas of the bastion having bombed out all the fuel stations and areas of Government economic interest one of the biodroid pilots spooky Radioed Ty as they began refueling and rearming "Sir that fortress is were a large force of theirs is located as well as civilians is correct...Are we really going to bomb that area in the dragons breath chemicals and buzz droids?" Ty contacted him back "you'll do as your ordered or ill recycle you into someone who can If they wanted to protect their civi's there they would have immediately got them off world after getting them there not garrison them in a military target now move."

Spooky got real quite on the other end before Radioing back "yes sir..." as the 3 gunship aircraft took off towards the fort their onboard defenses dealing with anti-air missiles and laser fire as the lot of them fired off their Hex and discord missiles to pepper the fort inside and out as they were heading back to rearm and refuel Spookys engines were shot all to hell as his sheilds went out before the aircraft plasma magazine was ruptured causing a explosion.

Dogma was the first to radio back to Ty, "Spookys been delt with sir." Ty nodded before issuing orders to the EE biodroids who finished clearing the last turret next in between them and the medical checkpoint. "Kill the wounded of anyone low ranking and anyone high ranking capture for interigation."
Ty ordered before making his way with the rest of the biodroids to reinforce the armord colum

 

[Halketh]

B L I N D E D
ENTER THE VULTURE

DOOM_DIVISION : // DEPLOYED
THE_CARLACI_CORPS : // DEPLOYED
OPPOSITION_STATUS : // Dimitri Voltura [PENDING]
NIO_ALLIES_CLOSEBY :// @IAMTHEWARMACHINE Tyrell Paxxus DECEASED Erskine Barran Djorn Bline
Jaeger Harrsk Rika Hiro Enedina Tal Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Willan Tal

_

Just die already.
​

"Do not let them through! I'll bring down the building if I must!" The Vulture howled over the screeching chaos of the turmoil, ducking behind a chunk of plasma-scorched duracrete- still steaming- for temporary cover as another battery of high-velocity ribbons blared over his head and towards the fortress. He had nearly forgotten, perhaps, what it was to be caught in the warring streets. Or maybe his mind had failed to categorize it properly, file it away to where it was stored for remembrance and emphasis. It was hard to decipher the emotions bubbling to the surface of his blood, or bursting in the synapses firing off in rapid tandem deep within his helmeted skull. He felt much, yet it was all so distant and muddy, hazy as if he were perceiving it through some sort of warping smoke screen.​

The corpses parading around in white New Imperial armors pushed forward, soaking up the brunt of the hellfire raining down towards The Vulture's forces, losing pieces of themselves willingly bit by bit until fleshy pink innards hung from their mangled torsos, blood had stained them red, and bones grinned into the light of the clash. These death troopers met the carnage head-on, abandoning their useless rifles in melee to wrench their helmets from their heads, exposing their rotten visages, and dog-piling any unfortunate soul to get singled out of the greater pack. The element of surprise, just as the first time in this world, was ever effective. ​

However, the shock was only so stretched, and once it wore thin, the Sith Imperial soldiers rallied and pressed the counter-attack, mowing down those undead stormies who weren't quite quick enough to obey their creator's orders to retreat back to the defensive line. ​

"Vulture! They're pushing again, we need to fall back!" The voice broke his concentration and he twisted his head around, barely focusing over the makeshift shield he had found respite behind. The sea of strobing colors and churning energies was disrupted in its core by a tidal wave of movement disturbing the ripples of The Force. The Sith Imperials were charging. Bile rose in the depths of his being, churning to gnaw at his throat and the cords poised to offer responsive order to his soldiers. They would be expected to fall back, wouldn't they? ​

Especially with their numerical disadvantage. Quickly, Halketh's mind ramped up, chasing thoughts and stitching them together on the fly to create a plan. "SPARROW!" He shouted, hunkering back down and guarding his head with his armored forearms as explosives rocked his position, showering him in dust and debris. "MOVE WITH ME!" His vision warped and twisted, expanding around him in a much broader field- where was she? Much more familiar footsteps crunched towards him and soon, her hand was on his shoulder. "We need to shield the death troopers in, can you do it?!" The ringing in his ears forced him to shout, and the ringing in hers meant she barely heard him. ​

The rattataki nodded, snapping around to unleash a cycle of screaming plasma from her rifle, punching the stock into her shoulder as a break in the conflict gave her a mere window of opportunity. "We have to stop them where they are so I can move!" It was enough for the other troopers to pop up from cover and return fire, cutting down the number of surging Sith Imperials blazing a path in their direction. Halketh rolled to his left, bowing his head and locking his gauntleted hands together. ​

The sorcerer sealed his mind behind a conjured wall, tuning out the ear-splitting clash encircling him from every direction. It was enough to drive one to utter madness. But he couldn't afford madness, not now, no, he needed to focus. 'Don't be so foolish, Kezec-' no, that voice. Not that voice, not now. The Vulture sucked in a steep breath, shaking his head violently, not now, not now-​

'-nobody can do such a thing. You're too naive. Willpower isn't meant to be commanded by anyone but the self.'​

Her voice rolled through his thoughts, raking razor through his steely defenses, and slicing the chords of his heart to drop it to the pit of his stomach. So insistent these days, she was becoming. It was unnecessary, infuriating...​

'Something you need to come to understand, young padawan, is that all life is precious.'​

It was a lie. It always had been. There was no such thing as a precious life. It was all infected by greed and tainted by desire what plunged the galaxy into this endless conquest. This mortal back and forth. Death coils flung from one planet to the next. From the bog of his being wrath bubbled, clawing from the muck to drag itself to the surface. Pressure mounted in his skull, layering and building off the tension in his clenching jaw, the sharp fingers digging into the sides of his helmet. Migraine rocked his nerves, spurred on by the clashing armies in every direction and the ships in the sky far above. The bending and willing of The Force. Death. Carnage. Chaos. ​

He bared his teeth, quivering in erratic tremor as the worst struck him, and the cacophony of cycling rifles surrounding him buried him alive. The Vulture couldn't take it anymore. Fragments of his fragile sanity crumbled from the broken mirror of his mind, shattering against the churning earth beneath his defensive form. Someone was shaking him, who was shaking him? He couldn't tell. Why was he moving? Where was he? ​

"Come on Vulture, we've gotta move!" The stormtrooper dragging the Warlord along on his knees shouted from a million light-years away, "They're closing in! What are you doing!?"​

Halketh turned his head backward, narrowing his vast sight to the plane directly behind him. Crimson splattered corpses littered the street, spewing their slipping essences freely into the air, tainting it further. "No retreat-" The Prophet barely whispered, kicking a boot into the soldier dragging him, wrenching his arm from the man's grasp. "-we die here, or we hold it." He stood up, much to the chagrin of his survival instinct, and flexed a hand before him, leeching the escaping energies from the corpses his men had prepared for him. Molten plasma splashed his chestguard, licking upwards to sting his rebreather as he staggered backward from the impact. He pressed forward.​

"Lord Halketh!"​

Both hands unfurled by his sides, siphoning the dwindling essences from the blood-soaked ground.​

"Vulture!"​

Another blaster shot screamed by his helmet, barely missing his head. A third impacted his armored thigh, forcing him to stumble.​

"SOMEONE GRAB HIM! HE'S WALKING RIGHT TO THEM!"​

"Master!"​

The voices had faded. Far, far away all of them were now. He focused only ahead of him, baring his hidden teeth towards those surging for them. Dark energy surged through his veins, lighting his nerves on fire. It unraveled from his heels, expanding an aura of unease in every direction. Crimson lightning arced between his clawed digits, sparking in crackling jolt as it moved from one electrum-plated finger to the next. Electricity hummed in the charging air as he poured the harvest he had only just reaped into the conjuration. As his will was made manifest.​

"GET DOWN!" Cassiy screeched behind him, diving to cover.​

'KEZEC-!'​

A mind-shattering scream exploded from The Vulture's overclocked jaw, fraying his vocal cords and ripping the chaos to pieces. A throw of his weight forward cracked his spine down and both plated hands smashed into the earth, unleashing the coalesced charge his splintered sanity had boiled up in its explosion of wrath. A tidal wave of force lightning rocketed down the street, washing away everything and everyone caught in its blast. Crimson bolt fried flesh and armor alike, passing through the troopers to fry them alive in their armors, cripple their electronic equipment, and scramble their communications. ​

Smoke rolled from the boulevarde as the rising stench of burnt flesh carried on the wind.​

"PUSH THEM BACK!" The Vulture rasped from his bleeding throat, raking his hands through the air to harvest the energy he had just set to reap from the corpses his counter-attack created. He ripped the life essence from each Sith Imperial without remorse, treading over the smoking, armored corpses as his forces rallied behind him, charging ahead with weapons blazing to ward off another wave of attackers. "WE HOLD THIS GROUND OR WE DIE ON IT!"​

He fed the Force energy back into the earth, grasping at the scattering shards of his focus for the proper words to utter.​

And at his heels, the bodies began to twitch.​

TL;DR // Halketh's forces turn the tide on a charging Sith Imperial effort on the boulevarde stretching towards Fortress Imperator. Halketh unleashes a devastating Force Lighting attack and prepares to raise the troopers he's slain into service as undead.​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

Allied TSE: Pom Stych Tivé | Daeron | Darth Ledgermayne | Felix Astermo | Xeykard | Quinn Varanin

NIO Tag: Darth Assimilus | Jaeger Harrsk | Detritus Ren (Can't even spell my own character's son's name right!) | Hans Rennagen | Aaran Tafo | Elpsis Kerrigan | Elicia Hejaran | Areyon | Agrrur'arr ​

The Nightsister descended into the temple crypt. Without concern she stepped over two lightly decayed corpses sprawled about the floor of thick laden dust, the latest hapless victims fallen through what had been a well hidden opening in the earth. The spirits never ceased their whispers of secrets, cries of lamentation and desolation, and screams in reaction to their profound confusion, mostly of why they are still here and not crossed over. The Nightsister does not believe that there is a place for everyone, the afterlife being nothing more than a creation of the mind while alive…a collective belief made manifest by those very souls which dreamed it. So much they still desire. So many would sacrifice their eternity if it mean being cast into separation and loneliness, only to have more time with those upon whom they once found themselves to live in codependence.

The Nightsister stood in the center of the temple floor and cast her gaze upward. Her lips parted, and black smoke began to stream out from her open mouth. The trails of smoke plummeted downward at her feet, one after the other encircling the witch until they totaled twelve. A slender cyclone of smoke whirled around the very spot where each had fallen, then faded away to reveal the arrival of the coven of thirteen Nightsisters, the Wanica.

Without a single word, they got to business, raising from sleep those departed who lie herein, wanting nothing more than to rejoin their previous life upon this planet. In the process, they dedicated their souls to the cause at hand.

The Incantation reverberated throughout the temple, vibrating dust through the cracks of the very stone stacked walls which define it. The ceiling rumbled upon its framework. As the spattering dust thickened the air, a thunderous crack echoed as rockets shook the earth all around. A portion of the wall fell away revealing a tunnel, and a thick black fog descended out into this chamber, feeding darkside power elicited by Darth Ledgermayne infusing the Coven's Magick.

One by one the joints of the dead popped and crackled as the spirits took to their old bones and enthusiastically inhabited them, twisting stretching out from the crypt. The air that laid stale before, stirred with ages of decay. It took a moment till they arose, and to comprehend that the promise of Nightsisters is not one in vain, but very reliable!

Where would they go?
What shall they do?

Such matters not to the Nightsisters, for the mayhem these intend is certainly enough to rattle the mental state of regular or sleeping beings.

Worse, anyone could be rendered this way...someday.

The horde unleashed would begin to exit the temple, as Pom had leveled the ground to a reasonable incline to accommodate their departure. As the Nightsister coven made it's way into the tunnels, the corpses they passed by began to raise from their slumber.

Could they remember how to mold the Darkness which they embody, and which surrounds this place?​

 

[Rurik Fel]

M A N _ O F _ I R O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
LORD EXECUTOR
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Iron Skin | Lightsaber

REQUIEM
Sometime Ago…
Tython...
​

“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” The golden cliffs and bright blue sky of this serene, divine and undisturbed world, Tython. An era struck in far deeper simplification. Life was not easier, matter of fact it might have been a great deal more difficult than it was now. That savage climb of upbringing, personal growth was a toil as testing and personal as any other.

Here, things seemed to be grounded to a far more profound level of spiritual awakening. Standing among the ornate ruins of the dead, Rurik crouched down to peer over the unblemished valley and so too did his master, his teacher and man he could only come to call a brother, a friend.

“I don’t think I’d ever told you...how grateful I am, Rurik.” Vyrin Karis said, offering a faint smile before glancing the way of his Padawan learner now made knight of the Jedi.

“Of- of all that I have, my son , my wife...and now you. I’d always lingered about this day, when I would raise up a Jedi Knight myself...I’d admit- Rurik. I’ve never felt more proud...more content, more at peace in my entire life. And I’m glad The Force willed us together. I’m glad to call you Jedi Knight...and my friend, my brother.” Vyrin admitted, sitting beside Rurik as they peered over the serene and untouched landscape of the force touched world. Among them, the long forsaken ruins of the devoted of the Ashla. It was a place strong in its connection to the Force and yet all the same, it only wrought a cool feeling of ease over them.

Whatever awaited them, whatever the annuls of fate had prepared for them. There was no need to fret or fear. All would be right in the end.

“I’m glad to have done you proud, master. I’d only like to say I’m a far cry from the wayward son of Serenno I once was. Only in part to what you’ve tought me. Not merely of the Force but of being a man, a warrior. What it takes to sustain this internal tranquility. For that I will be eternally grateful, Vyrin.” Rurik replies, offering a wayward glance to his old friend.

“And that is why...I want you to be the one that raises him up, as a Jedi. Corin.” The boy now known as Ryv Karis. Rurik glanced the way of Vyrin once more with an arched brow.

“My Amaraya wants me to return home...lay down the Saber. You know how she feels of Corin being raised up as a Jedi, perhaps if you’re the one teaching him and I’m with her, things will go just that easier.” Vyrin iterates.

“And you think I’m the best choice for him? To be his master?” Rurik was ever skeptical, of himself more than anyone else.

“Certainly. And more than anything...I want to be with her. All will be made right.” Karis offers with a smile.

“I won’t fail you...and I won’t fail him.” He stated...whether he made good on that vow...had truly yet to be seen.

“I know...in the end, Rurik. I chose you because-” He seems to pause as he stands himself up before shifting his gaze to the veiled Fel.

“You will always do what must be done.”

CLEANSE THE SINS
Hyperspace…
NIV Antares Draco | Pellaeon IV-class Star Destroyer

​

The wayward echo faded and the Imperial Knight’s eyes shot open. His gaze was immediately bathed in the cool sheen of bluish green that came with his submersion in the tank of bacta. This process while not necessary was a precious luxury in soothing his tormented form in moments of respite.

He had told the medical staff not to be awoken intently lest he be needed and thus his mind already began to rush through what possibilities awaited his summon. Surely they’d not already arrived. They were destined for Lothal, an excursion in defiance to the Bryn’adul. A surprise attack against the vicious parasites to impede the brutish advance of Tathra Khaeus into the Galaxy proper.

As soon as the tank was fully drained he stepped out, soon enough a small retinue of three hospitaliers began to confine him in his iron skin, the visage of which he was most recognizable to his comrades and struck the truest fear into his enemies.

The metallic hiss of a blast door sliding open drew his attention to the figure enveloped by the opening.

“Lord Executor.” An Imperial Navy officer, ranked at Captain, younger man, Pantoran. Rurik knew him well enough as the commander of this vessel, the very same named after the champion of the Emperor Fel, though he does not share his name as Roan did, Rurik was similar in role to Draco.

Regardless, the captain had news to impart to his superior.

“Admiral Var Koon has instructed our battlegroup be pulled from hyperspace, we have received a call of distress and orders of immediate strategic redeployment. Signal designation 'Tarkin has Fallen' has been sent out by Hellion-Actual” The Captain stated.

“From where?” He inquired, standing all but limp as more and more of the savage metal was attached to his form.

“The Bastion System, sir.” He explained.

The stakes were high in Rurik’s own excursion, the stakes were higher with a true strike at the heart of the Empire.

“Don’t waste time, divert our course. Full burn to Bastion. Have the ‘Punished’ prepared for ground assault and our starfighters prepared to launch as soon as we emerge. The Empire calls.” He commanded. And in that momentum, the steel masque was lowered over his gaze.

"The Sith, sir..." He inquired.

"Naturally...and they'll burn." He replied.

The Lord Executor would assume control.

"And Dooku?"

"His Empire calls, he will answer." Rurik replies.

Now equipped in his Iron Skin, he made way from his sanctuary aboard the star destroyer, the blast door hissing open to make way for the corridor ahead of him. The Imperator's own, the 501st needed to be ready to make war again. To rip the parasites from the sacred prize of Bastion.

​

ALLIES | NIO | NJO | Ryv | Aelys | Loske Treicolt | Maynard | Lucien Dooku | Detritus Ren | Hans Rennagen | Agrrur'arr | Ragnar the Untested
ENEMIES | TSE | CIS | SOON

​

​

 

[Daeron]

TUNNEL B-1
Darth Ledgermayne Areyon ​

Prev...

Before Areyon arrived, Daeron glanced around his immediate surroundings. His eyes spotted a plan of the tunnels – at least at the time that people used to occupy this decrepit room. The tunnels seemed fairly close to the holomap in his possession. Tunnel B-1… Tunnel C-5, what should be his next destination with the second of two bulkheads, and more.

A path to Tunnel C-5 appeared – small access ways stretched through the tunnel systems. Not massive enough for an army like Tunnel B-1, but possibly large enough for a human-sized person or two to pass at a time. He spotted the mangled exit from the control room to this path.

If Daeron had more time, he could have learned even more. But Areyon did not allow him.

The moment Daeron turned back to the control console, he heard Areyon’s voice. Daeron turned to see the Imperial Knight in a stance.

[…]

A glance to the console.

A breath.

Then darkness seeped into the control room. Daeron grimaced.

The sithspawn Darth Ledgermayne commanded rushed from the darkness toward Areyon.

In the midst of this new chaos, Daeron ignited a crimson lightsaber into the control console. A gamble - he assumed the massive bulkhead outside the control room was designed to fail safe close. Regardless, no Sith army would pass through Tunnel B-1. Or at least, it would take effort to repair the console.

And with that done, Daeron dashed toward the exit into the service access ways. He glanced back once to confirm if Areyon would stay and fight Ledgermayne and his forces, or to chase…

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Romi Jade
Equipment: The Inferno, Warrior's Skin, Zygerrian Whip

​

The world trembled beneath the vengeful gaze of the burning shadow. Like a black flame the beast swallowed The Light rather than cast it - yet its touch was much hotter than any natural flame, burning away the light as it encroached upon it. The burning shadow let slip its claws onto the jagged surface of the obelisk it had erected on the outskirts of the city. Under five feet in height and no thicker than your average human, the stone pillar glowed with a phantasmic purple that accented the pitch black stone it was carved from. Heaving it into place had been a simple task for hulking Vulcanus and - with the invasion of the city underway - the enemy had little time to focus on him. At least they hadn't at first.

The Seventh Day Emperor breathed deep of the air - taking in the smell of ozone, the reek of spent blasters and the hint of death lingering beneath the overpowering smell of burning duracrete. Through the miasma of it all, however, there was something unmistakable. The hint of floral essence. The sting of pheromone. The delicious aroma of flesh and of course, the flood of the lightside as it pushed back against the darkness.

Necrotic gums split open into a bleeding smile. Something was here to play. Something powerful.

"This world is dying, Jedi" Vulcanus called into distance, not truly sure if that was what he fought - to him all lightsiders were the same. Weak, just like The Jedi. The beast's claws scrapped against the Graug runes carved into the obelisk, "and its blackest moment hasn't even come."

The obelisk pulsed with a sudden surge of power, then it faded again. The beast turned towards the distance, following the feint scent of human to guide his eyes. Ryv's cybernetic arm swung freely from his belt, jingling as he spoke "I'm glad you have arrived. You will be the first witness to the power of my Eternal Horde."

Vulcanus scanned the area for his guest, sniffing the air. "I smell your blood. It is potent, Jedi. Much more potent than the weakling I faced on Korriban. I will savor the taste."

 

[Mrurh'en'lase | Hel]

PADAWAN | NEW JEDI ORDER
BASTION | RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT
Lightsaber | Suit
Creuat | Vora Kaar

Chaos.

That is what the Padawan felt and saw as she followed her master into the fray, her lightsaber clasped tightly in her right hand and her red eyes wide upon exiting the room she and Master Fisto had been occupying prior to the invasion. Each frantic step through those halls was done so with shock not only at her first true sighting of the Empire but at the manner in which they were attacking.

Looking out of the occasional window to the streets below, she saw what this battle truly was: disaster incarnate. A dark swath of flames unhindered by whatever initial resistance could be thrown at it and bracing against whatever resistance was met on the ground. It was incredible and horrific all at once for the Padawan to see civilians clawing for a chance - a sliver of a chance - at survival. She flinched away from the windows as the streets were set aflame or crumbled apart while the New Imperials moved to both fight and evacuate, still holding only a hilt with no blade to be seen.

"...Sith. The darkness..." she whispered to herself in a mixture of naive awe, stupefaction, and the fear of a Padawan as she was practically drug along the streets by Fisto. Indeed, for all that she was with her bravery and headstrong fascination with battle, to see the Empire - the Sith Eternal - firsthand was enough to send her little soul into a spiral of emotions she could not contend with.

Emotions that only heightened to a near-catatonia inducing degree when she turned her head just as an orb of fire burst near her and her master. And then another. And another. And another. And another. Over and over again, strands of flame and debris reaching for her in a pursuit of flesh and bone to rend apart. She dodged what she could and cursed loudly as a few shards of duracrete managed to scratch open the arms of her robes. Fewer managed to pierce her skin, but not deep enough to cause any form of injury. Only enough to startle and sting.

And then the source of these orbs made its appearance just as suddenly as the barrage had occurred, crashing through a crater of its own making and rearing its metallic gun-faced head at those within the housing unit. But that was not what sent the Padawan further into the spiral. It was - as she saw it - the liquid mass of pure evil atop it. A star of briars and brambles that wanted nothing more than to feast on the field of sunflowers and lilacs and spread its blackthorn grove.

Hel's mind froze at the sight as a berating, growling voice began to screech in her ears. For twenty years, she had survived with minimal help, minimal training, minimal anything. For twenty years, she saw the worst the Galaxy could offer. She served for Hutts, Slave Lords, Spice Rings. She had dived into the deepest pits of Coruscant and came out with little effect to her mind and body. She had survived. And this one Sith had erased all of that in an instant.

It was a deep-set shame she felt and shame she began to let infect her.

Shame she absolutely needed to defeat.

"Run!" her master cried out as he sent her flying back into a different part of the hallway to avoid direct engagement with the beast before them.

She reacted with little more than a light gasp as her mind snapped back to attention and those doubts and vituperation in regard to her sudden lack of strength vanished in an instant. Once more in defiance of her master, and upon regaining her balance as the Force ceased pushing her, she planted her feet onto the floor and immediately flicked the switch of her lightsaber with her thumb. The high-pitched shrill scream of the ignition resounded throughout the halls and the Padawan charged back towards her master, nearly running into him as he sought her out to likely run.

"We must fight, Master!" she shouted with wide-eyed, teeth-bared fierceness.