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Things were going according to plan for now. The Corvette's firepower obliterated any foot soldiers caught in its wake while other guns kept the skies clear for the Sith troops moving back. Mid stayed at the rear to help cover troops as they moved back. Some bolts got a little close for comfort and explosions were taking its toll on his robes as well as body. A few pieces of shrapnel had found their way into his skin and his robes were torn and flapping aggressively in the wind. But Mid kept on fighting. His twin lightsabers blocked bolts and his use of the force sent troops falling to their deaths every now and then. Simple usage of the Force which also didn't tire him out as much.
But he was getting annoyed. The command center was oddly quiet and with explosives lined underneath them, he wanted to know when they were getting ready to blow. Another problem was the fact that his fellow Sith was ignoring him flat. "This is Darth Kados. Any Sith on the bridge fall back!" he barked, but in truth he knew he won't be getting a response. So he opted for the typical Sith approach and stopped caring about them. Instead he turned his attention back to the Imperials in front of him. Bodies were piling up on both sides and he was simply adding more and more to it as he deflected shots back and forth. But ahead of him he saw the presence he felt. Purple lightsaber in hand, towering over his soldiers, stood the traitor. Mid couldn't deny that he was one hell of a presence. Certainly a step or two above anyone else on this bridge...most likely even himself.
But what Sith Lord ever looked at their adversary and thought "I'm not winning this"?
So with a wicked grin under his helmet Mid slowly advanced again, connecting his lightsabers to form a saberstaff and closing the crossguard vents. He gave a twirl and sent another Imperial flying into a bunch of other units before sending a ball of fire through the group to set them all on fire. The group's screams filled the air and bolstered Mid's connection to the Dark Side. The planet was burning, countless were dying on both sides and the Sith profited from every scream joining into the chorus.
With a growl, Mid marched forth with his lightsaber deflecting bolts at troops such as Hunter Blackburn
as he got closer to his target. The force flowed through him and his senses were open. He was ready for a real fight...
OOC: Not sure if anyone is facing off anyone else, but if someone wants a shweet fight and maybe get some story stuff going from it, feel free to hmu on the sith discord or just tag me on here.
Lightning spat freely from his extended fingers, slicing through the air to vitrify the stone around their feet. The Jedi's blade caught the lightning, drawing the energy towards it like a rod of metal would when stuck at the top of a tall structure. The light from the blade and from the electricity that was being anchored towards it was near blinding, a supernova of brilliance that illuminated every square inch of their surroundings with frightening clarity. Power, raw and undiluted, spilled out in waves around them as this contest of will continued to escalate. The Emperor, feeding more power into his vicious attack, only smiled as he forced the Grandmaster of the Jedi to rely on ever more desperate means to contend with him. His lightsaber was still held at his side, crimson blades burning brightly in spite of the blinding light.
As for the arrows being knocked and launched in his direction, the first time it had happened he hadn't been expecting it. But now he had learned about the other Jedi's little trick and had quickly influenced the Force around himself to cause the trajectory of the arrow to be knocked askew from its intended target. Both arrows detonated somewhere off to the side of both Emperor Carnifex and Grandmaster Morga. He could smell the stench of Force Light upon the arrows he had deflected, a cheap trick used by the Jedi to catch lesser Sith unaware. But it was an old trick by now, that fool Starchaser's overreliance on it had become well-known among the upper echelons of the Sith Empire.
And they had learned ways to counteract it.
For now, he would use more grounded methods to deal with her. Wrenching his sword arm back, the Emperor put much strength into throwing his double-bladed lightsaber towards the Jedi Allyson Locke. Spinning end over end, the weapon would appear as a great blur of crimson as it soared through the air like an errant buzzsaw. Controlled by the Emperor's will, it would continue to hound and pursue Allyson even if she deflected it off course or managed to dodge its scything arc. As for Grandmaster Morga, the Emperor welcome the conduit that he had completed between the two of them. An open-loop of raw power now flowed freely, transferring from the Emperor's hands to the Grandmaster's blade, and then returning back to the Emperor himself.
To a lesser Sith, the sudden influx might have destroyed them utterly, but the Emperor had spent decades studying the powers of the Dark and of the Light. He knew of Vaapad's proclivity to turn the power of the Dark back against itself, and it was used by those Jedi who primarily fought Sith. Such was the nature of the Dark Side, a double-edged sword for those who dealt freely in the power it had offered them. Strands of electricity danced across his armor, scorching the metal and even blasting away cloth and satin. It was well-known that should he continue this loop of power, it could very well destroy him as it had destroyed other Sith in the past.
But he had another trick up his sleeve, one that he had not yet used on the Jedi.
Adding his now free sword hand to the barrage, the Emperor seemed to increase the intensity at which the energy exuded was being cascaded onto the Grandmaster's lightsaber. This intensified deluge continued for a couple of seconds before the tips of the Emperor's fingers sparked like flint striking against steel. In a brief span of time, the electricity that flowed from the Emperor's fingers was transmogrified into a deep azure fire that followed along the trail of lightning that trailed through the air like writhing serpents. Each bolt gave way to blinding fire, coiling through the air with seemingly a mind of its own to enrapture the Jedi Grandmaster in a whirlwind of fury. Those that impacted against his lightsaber combusted with tremendous force, the loop of power shattered like a clay pot.
POST 4//MYGEETO //Objective 1: Battle in the Frost Cyclone // Sith Imperial Banking Clan Vaults At Southern Mesas//
//Location:// No Man's Land Bridge One
//Action:// Defeat Taeli Raaf //Allies-in-Vicinity:// Vaulkhar //Enemy RP Partner:// Taeli Raaf //Accompaniment:// Imperial Force Corps Knights Battlegroup Aegis// LINK TO KNIGHTS BATTLEGROUP ORBAT [x]
//Equipment:// [LINK] // MUSIC:
The parry from the Triumvir came the instant her own thrust severed the air between them. Their blades touched in a crackling, rattling echo. Blended together at the moment of contact, the cool silver beam of the High Knight Marshal’s saber and the bright crimson heat of the Sith Lady flickered as one. Their combined colors exploding into a bright flash of rose and white light, sparking a fleeting brilliance that illuminated their sudden clash on the bridge. The Triumvir shunted Zovesa’s thrust aside, using the parry’s momentum spin about her, circling past her. As she did, a spell was hissed into the air, and the very environment around them reverberated with its perversions. Zovesa felt it. The dominating command to twist the natural with the darkly supernatural.
Stomping her leading foot down, Zovesa manipulated the Force to aid her muscles in pivoting immediately upon landing the foot on the bridge. Force sped spinning about, she saw the Triumvir just as she had moved her body into a countering thrust designed to gouge the inner right forearm of her cybernetic arm. Zovesa herself, swung her blade forward to catch the thrust, but, she felt something shatter against her thigh armor. It impacted with a heavy force, shirking her stance. Had it not been for the reinforced armor plating of her Corps Knight Variant Tenebrae Armor, whatever it was would have penetrated.
Another projectile flung at her, this time, she had caught sight of it. A crystalline shard stretched into a razor pinnacle flying towards her face. The Chiss had no choice but to recoil, pulling her saber close to snap the shard in two. Barely having time to stabilize so that she could absorb the Triumvir’s attack, another projectile crashed against her pauldron sending icy spray across her face. She lost eye contact with Triumvir as a small veneer of ice passed by. In those milliseconds of blindness, Zovesa’s heart pounded in her ears, in those moments of visual uncertainty she let the Force guide her hand. When the spray passed the Triumvir was already deep into the core of her personal space. The very heat of her saber tickled her inner forearm.
Force Speed saved her. There was no time to bring in her saber, so Zovesa curled her arm back. Turning the forearm so that her vambrance caught the saber’s initial piercing probes. The cortosis composite plating swallowed the saber’s plasmatic invasion and cradled it. Using her vambrance like a shield she batted the thrust away, allowing herself to draw her body in close so that they were now both within their deepest zones of personal space. Zovesa threw up her other saber wielding hand and launched her fist as if to strike the Triumvir in the face with a punch. But, at the last minute she stopped her fist. Her arm stretched out, she turned the fist down and instead activated the CZ Wrist-Mounted Flame Projector mounted to the MV-18 "Force" Class Vambraces incorporated into her armor. The flame projector belched a showering torrent of engulfing flame at very close range.
Cara's blaster pistol spat two shots at a Sith trooper charging through the storm attempting to rush to the front, knocking him off his feet as they hit the bridge fast before turning to the NCO as she spoke, " This is how the New Imperial Order operates. The condition on which you are treated depends on your willingness to comply - as well as explaining what your purpose was beneath the bridge. "
The cold winds brought in a fresh wave of blinding snow as their position was concealed even further to ambush any retreating or advancing Sith troopers, the Dragoons currently not detaining the captured Sith troopers maintaining a perimeter as the Dragoon captain stared at the officer. She needed an answer and whether or not their maneuver had been compromised.
Location: Mygeeto
Allies: Hella TSE Peeps
Enemies: Jekadius Lawson
and hella NIO peeps
Objective: Continue being dramatic
As the New Imperial Order apprentice charged at him, Lark shifted to a mindset that was almost entirely focused on combat. Whatever dwindling thoughts that still lingered within him vanished, replaced by the memories of years spent training the blade. So many rigorous duels against former masters, tournaments against fellow acolytes, many of whom were no longer around. And after them all, Lark still stood. He was not always the victor, but every loss taught him something new.
But was it strange for a Sith to feel crestfallen? Lark couldn't place the feeling. Surely it wasn't the warrior in front of him? There wasn't anyone he had any particular care for, save for perhaps his sister. And even that was thrown into question depending on the persona Lark displayed. So what was it? What caused this feeling of horrifyingly potent sadness? Was it his sister? The Necronomicon? Or something else entirely?
Lark channeled all that doubt into a silent rage, and let his training guide his sword. He quickly hopped back above the strike directed towards his ankles, and let himself be pushed back when the upwards swing connected with his own blade. Lark's muscles tensed as Lawson's attack forced him back. He held his tongue, now was normally when he would say something to try and undermine his opponent, to play into their own doubts and desires. But when the temper of battle fueled one's blood, carefully placed words rarely had as big an impact as carefully crafted attacks. And Lark could sense shrouded hatred within Lawson, and sought a way to tap into that.
With a bit of space between them, Lark launched his own counter attack. One much dirtier than his opponent's, but equally as elegant. With a flick of his hand Lark sent a wave of snow towards Lawson, more to block his vision as opposed to causing any damage. Soon after Lark reached towards his belt with his free hand, and threw his enchanted Sith dagger towards the legs of Lawson. Perhaps a blow meant to wound would be less expected than one meant to instantly kill.
But for all the malignant wrath festering within him, for all of that weeping rage, where was all the personal hatred? It just wasn't there. A miasmic amount of noxious sensations emanated from within him, but the source of those thoughts weren't born because of any outside force that he could place. It was all so dreadfully confusing.
For now, maybe defeating Lawson would tide him over.
I'm sorry, but I can't afford to die here. There's so much I still need to know.
The frigid air caused Vexen's tattered cape to flutter about, the sound of saber clashing against saber. Violet and crimson flashed as swings were exchanged between the two Sith, strikes parried and blocked as stray blaster bolts whizzed by. The Anzati general took a half step back, creating a gap between the two as Jyon advanced with her saberstaff, utilizing the least amount of movement to be able to respond to every attack with ease. Swift, calculated strikes and movments that required little effort. She'd swing at his upper torso, his own saber swinging in a crescent motion as he blocked the attack and on the return collided with the follow-up attack she directed at his lower abdomen, his words continuing to goad the younger Sith Knight, " Your talents are wasted fighting for them; if they replaced me so easily after I was branded a traitor, what makes you believe that your life or experience holds any value within their ranks? You are just a faceless pawn in their army... "
Vexen briefly disengaged their locked sabers as he held his off to the side, taking a step back as he began pacing slowly off to the side as his violet saber hummed, " You've become a Sith Knight - worthless. You still have much to learn. Greatness? Such glory is seized with your own hands and resolve for yourself. " Vexen's saber flourished in his hand as he raised and pointed it at Jyon before continuing on, " The Emperor does not even know who you are. Were he so mighty, and his followers so capable, I would not be here - a testament to his incompetence as ruler and the weakness of the Empire. He speaks of peace among Sith, when the Sith code dictates that peace is a lie. His failures chain you to a cause that is no longer worth fighting for, and here you are, like a puppet without purpose having their strings pulled. If you believe otherwise, then strike me down - ifyou can... I only answer to strength - always have, and forever will. " There was cold indifference in his voice, yet they seemed to convey his beliefs with much conviction - and deep down the young Sith had to realize there was some truth to his words.
===============
Vexen his troops and Rive were gradually encroaching further towards the Sith Empire's mesa, the lack of vision due to the blizzard making it tougher for the defenders to take the enemy down. It was another benefit for not taking a larger force across the bridge as a push; there was more space to maneuver through and less chance that a stray and randomly fired blaster bolt downing the troops in the advance accompanying Vexen and Rive.
Speaking of which - Rive continued to exchange blows with Amur; or rather missing the much nimbler Sith. She was not afraid, and seemed to be enjoying herself; something the Gen'dai appreciated and respected. Her snarky and quick-witted comments were amusing to the aged Gen'dai as she dodged his swings, using the Force to enhance her speed and get inside of his swing. A mass of muscular tendrils extended from the gaps in his armor, swinging at the Sith as she attempted to slash and sever his arm from him, redirecting the direction of the swing as the mass of tendrils took the brunt of the blow and was severed instead of his arm. There was a brief sensation of loss of balance as the Gen'dai's legs were slashed at, the blade passing through the muscle cords as he used his vibrosword to balance himself before turning his head.
The Gen'dai did not seem phased by the attack, mostly because he did not feel any pain, using the blade to pick himself up as a mess of corded muscles seemed to extend from his wound, rapidly regenerating the injury - quicker than an average Gen'dai as well. Rive ripped the tip of the blade out of the bridge as he rested it on his shoulder, " You're a feisty little rat aren't you? Quick on your feet... I wonder how quick you'll be without them. "
Gat Tambor plummeted down the turbo-lift shaft, jumping down past Avernus and the agents. The Skakoan's arrival at the bottom announced with a loud metallic clank. Avernus was confined to a far less flashy method of decent, at least until he descended as safe distance for jumping. With every small hop off of the wall of the turbo-lift shaft, Avernus slid down the rope a few meters. By the time Gat Tambor had cut through the roof of the lift, Yeezy hadn't yet reached the halfway point. Avernus looked down, seeing the light of Tambor's ODRDK droid disappear into the lift as he dropped through the hole.
When the sound of blaster fire began to echo across the dark and cold walls of their descent, Big Money began to hurry. The hops became faster, shorter, a rapid sequence of small downwards slides. Impatiently, the Pureblood released his grasp on the durasteel wire, allowing himself to freefall downwards. The downwards momentum coupled with the upwards draft caught his robes. He did nothing to resist as the robe was torn away from his frame, revealing the opulence he had tailored specifically for this day.
Big money twisted in the air, turning on his vertical axis towards where he felt the exit of the turbo-lift to be. Calling upon the dark side, he slowed his own fall as he neared the hole, landing gracefully on the shoulder of Gat Tambor's TURBO ANNIHILATOR armor. His left hand quickly retrieved the hilt of his weapon. He called forth the lavender blade of hot, plasmatic death with a flick of his wrist, kicking off the Skakoan's shoulder to vault forward.
Corscrewing through the air, his blade swung wildly, swatting away the projectiles that came from the legionnaire's weapons. He landed a meter away from the closest legionnaire. A flick of his wrist sent the blade arcing upwards, severing the weapon down the center. Now disarmed, the legionnaire could do little as Big Money's crimson, claw-tipped hand palm struck his helmet, latching on with a palm-grip and sending an arc of force-lighting coursing through him helmet first.
As the legionnaire screamed and convulsed, Avernus swatted away several more blaster bots. An underhanded throw of his saber burnt a deep cut in the floor next to him before flying towards another hostile. The vertical wheel of whirling malice bisected the first Sith-imperial troop straight down the middle. Avernus pulled one hand back, levitating the charred and convulsing body of his first victim in front of him for cover as the lightsaber whirled wildly down the corridor.
This vulgar display of power had a kind of tangible edge to it, one so cliche it could almost cut you.
It seemed that Dorian was a little slow. The lightning cascaded from the Sith Lord's fingertips and there was an opening, but he saw the three sabers still hovering at the man's sides. If Dorian threw too hard, the spear might get lost too far away if he missed -- and he knew that the Force wouldn't kill anyone for him unless it wanted to.
As usual even a moment's hesitation cost him; a giant, beskar-clad mercenary appeared not too far away and blasted Dooku and Karis out the window. Maybe they were dead. Who knew? Well... he could guess. From what he could sense, they hadn't gone out so easily, and they were still on the move.
No, that wasn't Dorian's way. He'd come here to fight, to stick it to the Sith, to show Zovesa and the other Force Corps warriors that he was the real deal, not some pushover gladiator flunky that decided he needed a bit more morality in his life. He hadn't come here to run away from his opponents.
In the moment it took for Venari and his goons turned to look at Dorian, he took a deep inhale and closed his eyes. When he opened them once more, the world seemed devoid of sound as he used his true power. He began to run forward towards the Sith Lord. In his wake the windows cracked; in a moment they'd shatter, but the moment Dorian had felt much longer. His steps felt heavy and the air pushed against him, but the Force guided his steps, bringing him closer to the enemy.
If he stopped the sabers would tear him apart. This time he allowed himself to enter the flow fully, and while he knew it wouldn't kill them, the hits from a warrior moving faster than the eye could see wouldn't tickle, either. He slipped by the slowed outer guard of the Sith Lord, swinging his spear upwards towards Venari. The other Force-attuned warrior was able to match, but the sheer speed Dorian was moving at would still force Venari to stagger. Alas the Force guided Dorian elsewhere. Next he dipped past the Sith and seemed to jump out the window feet-first, aiming to push the hovering mercenary towards the building on the other side of the street. Dorian pushed off, flying back into the building, once more passing Venari and heading for the armored giant.
Instead of attacking, though, Dorian ended up behind Leon, and the gladiator watched as his arm rose, pointing at his three opponents who'd been so kind as to line themselves up for him. Thus far the Force hadn't done him wrong in this fight, so he followed its lead -- he halted his Force speed and turned his concentration into pushing the trio out the window.
It probably looked more impressive than it actually was. The windows all through the hall he'd run down burst, and there was a defeaning crack of something breaking the sound barrier. Venari and Vallaro were surely forced to stumble -- Dorian could see them from behind the armored giant -- but the extra push should've been enough to send them over the edge. With the burst over he finally exhaled.
Even so, his meager power of telekinesis was far from enough to push the man whose armor alone weighed half a ton. Dorian tried instead to push him around with his words. "Oi, fatty, you gonna join your friends? Actually, naw, that'd be a bad idea. If you hit the ground from this height you'd cause an earthquake." Obviously he'd lost his edge when it came to talking trash. These NIO folks were a little too nice. Just a little.
Before he struck again, Dorian took a moment to speak to Karis and Dooku over comms. <<"Two of them are coming to you. I'll deal with the big guy, then we'll sandwich 'em.">> He didn't think beskar boy over here would be too much trouble.
Dorian tried again, hitting his rhythm with Dun Möch as the warrior began to advance towards his now isolated opponent. "You can't keep up with me, sweetheart, so don't even try. Drop the weapons and I'll only hurt you a little bit."
He didn't, obviously, so Dorian did the next best thing. He inhaled deeply again, then started forward before seeming to disappear. He reappeared in front of Leon with his weapon raised. It was a feint, though -- Dorian left just enough time for his opponent to see him before disappearing again, next arriving in midair behind him and aiming a slash at his opponent's helmeted head.
Within Mygeeto’s atmosphere, the fight raged on as furiously as ever, blows traded on each side like two furious duelists caught within a lick of another’s life. The Captain kept her squadron tight, taking the chaotic mess of the Sith’s kill-zone and, slowly, turning it into a staunch grip on the region, especially when many of the fight squadrons found the forces of Tyrell Paxxus alleviating from the region. It was only a brief lapse, but it gave them the opportunity to take down the stragglers left behind, shutting down the region and creating a temporary kill zone for whoever tried to enter.
For a moment, along the radio came there charter of retreat or possibly victory, but to remind them of the gravity of the fight that raged, it only took one look upwards into the darkness above, seeing the grim spectacle that was the trading of blows, explosions above the sky and the occasional wreck of flaming debrief narrowly missing one of the crafts still alive within the defensive. To the Captain and her associates, it was a startling contrast to be able to see just how much worse the fighting was above, and to see just how much the satellite array had been utterly devastated by the interceptors and bombers that laid into them.
But, as soon as it ended, it began again, a far more potent opponent slowly descending from above and into the skies of Muunilist. The Captain could see with ease the force that now Lunafreya brought to break their defensive, and it made the sweat beading on her forehead only grow worse. ”We’ve got hostiles coming in… Corvettes.” It was impossible to compare in their minds collectively just how underpowered they were compared to Lunafreya’s force, but under the courage of those taking charge, the TIE fighters found themselves once again in position.
”Don’t let them scare you. They’re big, but they’re slow. We can outshoot these NIO trandoshans and take them to kingdom come!” The Captain’s voice filled the line like a rallying cry, and as she heard the calls of affirmation in response, she felt some of the fear alleviate deep within her belly, even the smallest touch of a smile coming to her face. The people around here were those who knew her better than she knew herself, and her them in return. If anybody could take on somebody, outmanned and outgunned, it’d be the people around her in that moment.
As Lunafreya’s main ship came down through the atmosphere, the satellites in orbit redirected their fire away from Sularen and onto Lunafreya’s fleets, targetting her main vessel with heavy anti-ship fire but opening themselves up for easy prey. As the automated defenses kicked into high gear, those manned by Sith-Imperials took their place as well, the remaining four squadrons of TIEs breaking formation to swarm Lunafreya’s remaining corvettes, targetting main guns with Ion torpedos and streams of blood-red blasterfire, each bolt in exchange for each drop of Sith-Imperial blood spilt in that bloody sky.
Above, the conflict seemed just as grim as before, even with Lunafreya’s departure. Tyrell Paxxus and Captain Sularen still held an aggressive hold on the space above Mygeeto, and without reinforcements at present hand, Aagenti had to rely on the numbers he brought with him and rely that the strategies he had in plan would work. Around the command room there was no sense of relief at the movement of Lunafreya away from the combat, as at hand that would leave the armada with less of a present threat, but her forced moved down towards the atmosphere, in an attempt to break the hold the Sith-Imperials currently had.
”Admiral, redirect three gunship and two bomber squadrons into the atmospheric defensive line. They’ll need all the backup they can get.” As soon as the words were uttered, Aagenti’s will was done. The Anathema had begun to see more action since the changing of focus from the Athena, but it was sturdy, if nothing else, and much of the fire that pounded against it for the present moment did little bit deflect off of the blaster shields and heavy plating. With guns at the ready, the Anathema rained hellfire into the swarm of destruction, heavy guns searing bright red beams into the night and off into the void.
Beside it, the Longbows trained their sights all on one single corvette under Tyrell Paxxus’s lead, charging up each their heavy cannons, sights set upon the poor ship that was as stuck as a fly in a spider’s web. While a single Longbow might not be enough to eviscerate a ship completely, a corvette caught within the sights of three would have to rely upon a miracle for survival. Ironically, miracles seemed to be the one thing working against the s Sith-Imperial armada, at least as far as the future foresaw for Aagenti.
A technician beside Aagenti once more looked up from a constant stream of data, both internal and external, up to the Councillor standing above them with his hands place at the small of his back. His thoughts were still set on the wreckage of the recent Corvette’s last charge, and small explosions still dotting the void as the last of the wreckage splintered off into nothingness. At the sight of it, Aagenti could feel a new presence wash over him, the mouths around him moving but no noise coming from them. Everything turned silent, as, standing from where he was, he could see an unfamiliar figure right within the center of the command center.
He could feel a spark between the two of them, an overwhelming presence of the familiar weave of the Force, as he stared into the man’s eyes. He could see confusion within them turn to anger, bloody, mouth-forthing hatred mixed with vile disgust, as if he’d had just laid his eyes on the most horrible of beings in the world. Yet, Aagenti didn’t react, nor did he stoop to allow his own face to reflect such emotions, only a glint or curiosity in his eyes, a small squint, and the raising of his head to look down on the man. He knew of him, but this was the first he’d ever laid eyes upon whom he could only assume to be one man.
He could see the man lost, ready to lunge. He could see in him the darkness that filled Aagenti when he learned of his brother’s death. He could see in him the anger that came after watching a tragedy happen and knowing exactly who to blame. Aagenti bathed only the reverent darkness from within the familiar stranger, and through the Force he could recognize the man he had, before this point, only knew by named. Such malice was only directed at Aagenti, and yet to Aagenti it was as pleasant as conversation. Tyrell Paxxus had become more than a foe in that moment - he and Tyrell stood on even ground, and whether Tyrell knew it or not, defied it or not, hated it or not, they were more alike than different, save for Tyrell’s rage without reason nor catalyst, within Aagenti’s mind.
Tyrell lacked restraint, and he could see it as clear as the beams glittering in the dark beyond the gate that was Mygeeto. Before it could last, however, Aagenti felt Tyrell drawn away, in the distance a bomber landing a small hit on one of the minor guns within one of the heavier NIO ships. All at once the noise returned, and Aagenti looked down to see all eyes on him, no speech as those around him looked expectantly up towards the Councillor. With an impatient look, he turned to them all, holding out a hand and waving for them to speak up. ”Well, what is it then? Speak up.”
It was a technician who responded, standing from his seat to look up at Aagenti. ”My Lord… there’s been a small problem. The reinforcements have been halted by an interdiction field… they’re not coming… but we are not alone.” The silence was vast as the Technician looked down at the terminal, nodding before pointing outside, highlighting to Aagenti a new swarm of ships appearing just out of hyperspace in that moment. Admiral Thaelius Ordo had finally arrived, and with his arrival, Aagenti could see many of Sularen’s largest ships pull away to focus on Ordo’s fleets.
Aagenti would smile, taking pride that, even in the face of adversity, circumstance had come out on his side. Setting his eyes forward once again, he saw as the field cleared up, the battle splitting as now two skirmishes took place. Directly in front of him, Tyrell Paxxus’s ships shifted into gear, his heaviest ships targetting to take down the Longbows protected by the Athena, and one ship in particular turning and aiming all guns towards the Anathema. For a moment, Aagenti’s heart dropped, but he felt a familiar thrum in the Force - a hint of insight as to who exactly was in that ship.
”My Lord, a ship has turned their guns against u-“ The Admiral rose from his station to address Aagenti, but before he could continue, Aagenti raised a hand to silence him. Stepping down from the upraised podium with a strut and sashay, Aagenti moved down the central walkway towards the reinforced glass windows, staring straight at the ship heading for them now. Aagenti scratched his chin with a curious expression, his eyes set on the ship and his face hardening into a steel-like aspect. His eyes and tattoos seemed brighter, as he set his mind on the course.
”Command the Potentate to fall back, and rotate its guns into the corvettes and frigates that the New-Imperial Order sends after us. Direct the Athena to focus it’s shields solely on itself and the Longbows, and tell the Exterminators to fire on anything that tries to break that shield.” Aagneti looked out the window to see the Athena’s shield once more pelted with heavy fire as Paxxus’s fleets tried to break it. It was thoroughly splintered by now, and it wouldn’t hold for much longer, but he just needed the Longbows to do their job. He needed it to hold just a bit longer.
”And for the ship heading right for us, M-my Lord?” The silence was as thick as honey, tension pulling taut as a drum and ready to be cut at any moment. Already, cannons on the Anathema were rotating to aim at the ship moving towards them. Tyrell’s flagship has begun to open fire on the Anathema, and the emerald lasers bloomed into diffused energy with each shot, shields holding up but feeling the weight of each beating.
”I want all guns we have to focus on that ship. The Grand-Vizier is aboard that ship, and he’s coming straight to see me dead.” As soon as the words were ordered, the Anathema immediately changed into a new gear. The heavy flagship began to move, drifting forward and to the side to greet Tyrell’s advance, while broadside cannons moved as one, heavy lasers taking aim while Aagenti stood at the glass, staring straight out and making no attempt to hide his view from those who wished to see him where he stood.
As the two flashships grew close, the Anathema let loose it’s array of guns, every cannon, turret, and battery taking aim at Tyrell’s vessel and unloading while he did the same. Red and green danced through the dark, trading licks and blows against heavy armor as Aagenti, ever so calm, watched, and waited, patient as time itself. All around them the fight shifted and ebbed, Sith-Imperial and Imperial fighters and interceptors dancing in an endless dance of death while gunships and bombers took to the task of leering down on the larger prey that stood against them.
Aagenti took to his mast, and, staring out into the void, ensured that no gun that was available wasn’t being fired. Tyrell had something to lose, and through his anger, Aagenti now had a stake in this fight. This was no longer just a battle for strategy, but to both of them this had become something personal. Through this, now, Aagenti took his first step into the fire. Here would be his crucible, and here he would not step down.
Atmospheric team and Satellites taking to targeting Lunafreya as she attempts to break up the defensive line
Dog fights continuing to happen - some ships moving to atmosphere to reinforce thee atmospheric team against Lunafreya
Aagenti has a spooky moment with Tyrell - Aagenti kinda sees just who he is he’s fighting, and learns that now there’s stakes beyond just the strategy of Mygeeto
Fire on Sularen is instead being directed towards Tyrell, as Aagenti moves to meet his forces
Ordo arrives, bringing Sularen away from the fight. Aagenti draws back his Longbows and has the Potentate start firing
Aagenti focuses Anathema on Tyrell’s ship - all hell starting to break loose as Aagenti basically gives the unspoken order to have every ship available raining as much hell and chaos into Tyrell’s rank
C:\Murderhawke\Mission\Allies> Lord Venari
| Vallaro Kindall
C:\Murderhawke\Mission\Enemies> Ryv
| Lucien Dooku
| Dorian Sicarrio
C:\Murderhawke\Mission\Objective> Defend the Muunilist capital city of Harnaidan
C:\Murderhawke\Mission\Gear> In character bio
Hearing his opponents sorry excuse for shit talking brought a wave of nostalgia back to Leon. No one ever minced words with The Murderhawke outside the rings of the IGWF. Of course, No one outside of the ring ever lived long enough to really say anything to him in the first place. The insults were so bad actually that Leon wouldn't even dignify it with a verbal response, only dropping the laser cannon to the floor. After all people payed good money to see The Murderhawke talk smack, it would just be a waste if his opponent didn't spout something actually worthy of a rebuttal.
It was the second round of insults that finally brought a smirk to the Mandalorian's lips. Still quite pathetic, even worse than that, it was just plain wrong. As his dainty little opponent pranced around him, Leon couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the poor lad. I mean, Leon knew he was stupid, but he couldn't believe someone would be dumb enough to challenge The Murderhawke Mandalorian Leon Hawke to a one on one duel. Leon had spent his entire life in combat, he was born into it, It was all he was. He had fought and honed his skills against Jedi and Sith alike and the training he was doing with Venari and Vallaro made sure his skills with enhancement techniques were better than ever.
Finally, his little ballerina had finished with the tricks and decided to make a strike. A move that would certainly have found its way to its target had Leon's helmet not offered him a complete 360 degree view of his duel. For the first time since Dorian began his Assault, the Murderhawke moved, raising his arm as the shield that was housed within the bracer activated, blocking the incoming attack. Leon would have to give it to Dorian, the kid was fast, faster than he was. Unfortunately for Dorian all Leon had to do was be fast enough to react to his attacks and with his augmentations, armor and the force, he was just that.
"I don't need weapons for you brother, True warriors use their fists and their will and you better believe The Murderhawke Mandalorian is a true warrior" Leon quickly pushed the spear away as he spun, balling up his gauntlet clad hand into a fist as he tried to back hand his opponent. Regardless if he hit or his opponent dodged, he would not give chase "You think a nobody like you can stand up to the undefeated champion of the world brother? You're not even fit to be The Murderhawke's towel boy let alone an actual contender, go back to the strip club where you won't break a nail" Leon bellowed, followed by an even louder laugh. Someone needed to show this kid how to shit talk since he OBVIOUSLY couldn't do it himself.
Objective: Defend the Muunilist capital city of Harnaidan Allies:Vallaro KindallLeon Amun
TSE & Allies Enemies: RyvLucien DookuDorian Sicarrio
NIO, GA & Allies Equipment: In Bio Theme
The Sith Lord had just enough time to grab Vallaro and duck under the ferocious beam weapon Leon had brought to bear. The Jedi and their nonsensical utterance had been blasted into the adjacent building. Venari regarded the gargantuan beast with a nod. The job was not yet finished but their enemies had been battered back into running. The Sith prepared to give chase when the last their enemies appeared in a foolish attempt to land a blow through the crimson bladed defense. Just as the Force Corp. warrior saw his abilities heightened by the force, so to did Venari. He blocked the blow though ground had still been given, the Sith knocked back a few feet. It was the following play that proved the most effective of their foes game yet. As the spear wielder blitzed his way across the hall a rogue telekinetic blast had caught Venari off guard, the Sith Lord was expecting another physical assault from the brute, not the wisdom to utilize the most ultimate of weapons.
Venari tumbled head over heels through the urban chasm crashing into a building across the way. He rolled to his feet and immediately scanned the area. Just a short distance off he could sense the blade of Ruusan's glowing power, its wielder putting his paces between the Jedi and the Sith. Vallaro too had been taken by the force blast plunging over to Venari's side. Alone their titan ally stood against the last of the Jedi menace. With a jutted palm the Sith Lord's floating arsenal had been summoned back to him from the previous building. His Xalmiris pet would be alone for now but would crawl along to Venari's signature in the force.
"Jate akaanir vod," he shouted back to the behemoth with a raised fist.
The spear wielding force knight was impressive indeed, but any who believed themselves Leon's match in physical prowess were up for a rude awakening. The Sith - Mandalorian had more than adequate powers in force attunement with his body; training and augmentation to push beyond the limits of peak conditioning and armor that further enhanced his abilities. The behemoth was the very summation of war held back only by his own childish nature. And now, he'd found something to play with, a new toy to break.
Venari eyed the ally at his side. "Come, he can handle himself, we have rodents to kill," he uttered with a vicious sneer painted across the features hidden by his helmet.
The Sith Lord led the duo across the building rather than tracing the Jedi's trail exactly. The minute shreds of additional force potency his crystal and artifact had siphoned away were but a taste of the meal to come. Still, he heard reports blaring in of the mayhem throughout the capital. One attack begot another. The city had been littered with enemy and ally corpses alike, all of it feeding the Sith. The air had become thick with fear, anger and suffering, more fuel to the dark side's flame. All who embraced the dark were left a banquet of bogan power to feast on.
Finally the Sith Lord stopped at a window at the opposite end from where they had crashed. Looking across the street to the next tower, he could see a shattered window a few levels below and just one level above that was the beacon of ashla light.
"Keep close, and when the fighting starts I believe it best we give them no room to breathe," he said to Vallaro.
Crimson blades sprung back to life and tore the transparisteel window apart. The Sith Lord leapt across the way, his weapons shattering another window along the target building. He rolled into a landing then sprung to his feet as his bounty hunter attendant boosted across the byway. Now they were a few levels above their prey.
The tower played home to a series of bridges crossing the void within the hollow interior. Taking his surroundings in, Venari marched halfway across the nearest bridge and looked down the levels between them and the Jedi. He couldn't be sure if they had felt his presence but he would not grant them a silent death. The fools would know they had fallen to their betters before they died.
"Take one final look Jedi scum," Venari's arms opened wide, gesturing to the tower in which they stood, "these words shall be your epitaph... this place, your tomb," he spoke not expecting the simplistic Jedi duo to comprehend the severity of their folly. He then held a hand out to Vallaro, "one of your Hydra devices if you'd be so kind."
The Bounty Hunter handed one of the grenades over. With an extended right hand, another vicious torrent of lightning cascaded onto the Jedi duo while the left raised the hydra weapon into the air with the force. The Sith prepared to launch the grenade at the sight of the head Jedi's shield system, should he not bring the tool to bear Venari would target the Jedi directly when they made their next move.
The chase had gone on long enough. It was time to close the curtain on this sad act and rejoin with his legion. The day was still young and there was still so much time to kill.
As the hunt behind those who intended to attack the surface of the planet continued, she finally took the time to see what that Star Destroyer given to her was carrying. Readers indicated a fair amount of weaponry at her disposal, although she believed that she needed to do little, not while Commander Pellaeon was in control of the whole situation. 'Handle a spaceship in space, princess, and you will learn to handle the stars', they said to her ... if she could answer that now, she would probably tell them to shove it up their banthas.
"How curious.", Pellaeon commented and she slowly turned her face towards the commander. “They are now directing their weapons and ships against us. Lock and fire all the heavy turbolasers and half our ion cannons against the satellites! Are the M19 Firefly Missile ready? ”
"Yes, Commander Pellaeon."
“Lock on targets and fire! Take down all of their satellites.”, Gideon said to the officers as Lunafreya was still reading about the ship and just glimpsing the information on the command desk. She noticed Pellaeon smiled proudly when he saw the launched missiles go in the direction of their targets' collision.
"Prepare all defense weaponry, if they attack... better look back.", Pellaeon looked at her somewhat amazed, she noticed with his peripheral vision and it almost made her laugh. Pressing the button beside the command chair, she made a connection to one of the corvettes left behind, the Python captained by Natanis Beauclair. “Situation?”, She kindly asked.
“Broke formation, my princess, enemy ships on your trail, going to blaze them all. Focusing all laser cannons on starfighters! Swarm the stars with the swarm drones! Focus the missiles on enemy sh-, ”, she turned off the communication. The corvette she drove made up for in speed for her lack of heavy weaponry like other ships, and if there was one thing Python Beauclair was good at, those were quick attacks on her enemies.
“Commander Pellaeon. Prepare to deploy half our squadrons, how many form one squadron in here? ”, Pellaeon immediately replied without looking at Lunafreya.
"Twelve, princess, twelve starfighters, but I must warn you that ..."
“They are drones, aren't they? So three squadrons would be… thirty-six? Well, send all of them to take care of the ships coming towards us, if anything comes close, order them to fire, can I issue orders for this model?", She already knew the answer even before he said to her about it," Order the drones to shoot down the ships that the readings show are coming towards us and if they fail after eight shots, they will have to win on speed and collide directly with them.”
"Ordering them to self-implode and collide with the enemy?", The Commander's face was something of concern mixed with curiosity for what she suggested.
“Oldest tactic in the book, commander. They are droids, useless machines made for the purpose of serving their masters. Now they perform this task in the best possible way, the gods know how useless these machines can be against good pilots. Our duty is to prevent the ground attack, follow the ship that goes towards the planet, direct all our firepower in the planetary defenses and order the remaining drones to do the same thing, aim at the command centers, in the power plants, in the reactors, shoot everything they have and if you can't get them by firepower, tell them to explode against them! Focus all the power of this ship on its weapons and fire all the turbolasers and ion cannons at the defenses aiming at our position. CRUSH THEM, Pellaeon. Every satellite, every fighter, everything!”
She sat relaxed in the chair as she spoke, but her nails knew better than that, Lunafreya tapped her index finger on the arm of the chair almost incessantly, Lunafreya was nervous. More than usual, she now found herself with all the defenses of the entire planet turned against her, or so she felt and she needed firepower, pressing her finger on the command chair she opened up connection with the Quatro Bestias.
“My sweet Python, keep your goal and continue to make way for the allied ships at the rear… Captain Portia Calogera take the Black Dog to Python's position and assist it against enemy defenses. Speed and precision, my minions, speed and precision! As for the Lioness and the Golden Stag, stay in your position and crush any ship that tries to come towards us! Do not… I repeat… DO NOT ALLOW the enemy to deploy one more through your line.”
And as she spoke, inside the Engaged the drone squads began to be sent through the hangar, filling the side of the ship like a real swarm as they spread out to attack. The Destroyer's command bridge was beginning to become as agitated as a circus, several officers shouting orders and reporting their positions, data, enemy attacks and numbers as Pellaeon danced with them and prepared for the attack, letting the skies light up with the eighty cannons from their turbolasers.
“Foul is fair and fair is foul.”, she said almost laughing for remembering this old verse.
Luna is after ships trying to get to Mygeeto and guns blazing against every single defense she finds alongside two corvettes
Her drones are swarming the stars to destroy defenses and small ships approaching her Destroyer.
Location: HIMS Imperial Fist | Bridge Objective: Defend Muunilist
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: New Imperial Order | Dracken Pryce
"10 Seconds until optimal range." Came the voice of her communications officer.
"Nine."
"Trierarch Siari to Task Group, I am placing all ships on call for united instructions. Please instruct your crews to man their guns, pilots to warm their jets, I want all systems ready and I want them to go the moment we hit zero." She said, flipping several switches by her right hand, while her communication's officer paused for the next second to pass.
"Eight."
"Siari to Black Leader, it is time to part the sea." Melia said as she moved her hands to her lap, interlocking her fingers as she slowly started to lean forward in her seat. "Understood. Ladies and gents, you heard the lady, give the woman the room she needs to advance." Came the reply of the Mirialan Castrensae, followed by a quick maneuver from the Sith-Imperial Strike Fighters to split almost directly down the middle in a near ninety-degree turn at full speed - a change in position which left the Imperial Fist open and exposed, almost in direct contrast to what she'd asked for.
"Seven."
"All capital ships please prep for hyperspeed, assign coordinates for a micro jump provided by my analysis officer - it's time we got them hot and bothered. Imperial Reach, I believe our opposition wishes to tango, order droid fighters to swarm enemy capital ships. Clear the dance floor for our approach." Her orders came with a shared look of confusion from most of the commanding officers, whose expressions were easily recognized via their holographic representation, but none spoke out to question her instructions - clearly she intended to deactivate the interdiction field if she wanted to push for a jump to hyperspace, but the timing this late into a countdown brought that into speculation as it was protocol to bring interdiction fields down before plotting a course for hyperspace, even for micro jumps.
"Three."
"Siari to Imperial Will, please disengage your interdiction field. Mandalorians plot your courses for five kilometers above the Starhawks." She said as the countdown drew near its end, soliciting a collective, albeit hushed, sigh of relief from the rest of her subordinates. "Two." Her communications officer chimed in, her tone layered with a sense of urgency. "By the will of the Emperor." The voice of the Kometes commanding the Imperial Will replied. "One." The Mirialan stressed. "Bring the main cannons online, prep them for firing. I want them hot." The Zeltron ordered, leaning back in her seat as she slowly closed her eyes in preparation for their imminent jump.
"Zero."
"Jump. Now." Melia tersely instructed. There was no audible response as the stars in the viewport smeared like wet paint running down glass, replaced by the sudden sight of a line of Alliance ships that were perhaps two or three Super Star Destroyer lengths away from the Imperial Fist, which had plotted its course closest to the Colony II-class battlecruiser Starchild II. There was a dead silence of suspense that filled the air, the explosions of green turbolaser fire exploding against the shields of their enemy's ships silent in the dead void of space - the Zeltron's task group having immediately opened fire, knowing full well the purpose of such a sudden jump amidst interdiction.
"Siari to Shamed, Broken, Beleaguered, and Unworthy please activate shield leech systems, targeting Starhawks." She said, moving her hands back to their rightful place on each armrest. "Terror, Pressure, and Order please direct concentrated fire on the aforementioned ships; Imperial Reach, Will, please keep their cruisers busy. Ascension, Dauntless, and Ravager please keep their destroyers busy. The rest of you are to provide support for those mentioned."
"And, Imperial Fist -"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Fire Siege Cannons. Send an offer over open communications for their retreat - if they survive."
She spent the next few minutes lurking in the alley. Her defense was far from perfect, a stronger Force-user notices her easily in vain Force technique, even if no one else sees her. And the cloaking technology was effective only from a distant view. So Ingrid lurking, she gathered so much information what she could from the enemy, and the enemy moved, and then she sent these back to the high command again. A few minutes later on this front it seemed that the NIO’s people were starting to push back and the TSE people were breaking forward. That was her time.
As soon as their own came into line with the alley where she was, she set off. She turned off her stealth field generator, and finished maintaining the Force technique. Thanks to these, she became fully visible as she approached near to her soldiers. The street was a blood field, the whole thing was full of corpses, and everyone was forced to wade on them. In the absence of assault rifles, it was time for melee. She activated her lightsabers, the black blade in her right hand and the red blade in her left.
She reached out to the Force, and she let the Force guide to her steps and moves. For the Force led her footsteps, she was not afraid that her own would be shot in the back. So she swung forward toward the enemy's ranks, hitting a few shots aside with her blades, and she finally arrived, and with her first movements she killed several soldiers. Several shots hit her armor, but no damage was caused yet. This time she didn’t care about this, she slammed down again and continued her murderous dance among the enemy…
Muunilinst Orbit Galactic Alliance 3rd Sector Fleet Aboard the Starchild II - Special Weapons: Null-Series Gravity Well Neutralizer
"How many times do I have to tell you? The Null Quantum Field can't take that kind of strain, you gotta turn it like this." It was another one of Hosea's lectures. He was the only one in the special weapons second group that had any experience with the squib tech that had been recently bolted into the Starchild II. He was an old Sullustan, a veteran from one of the recent wars between the Core Worlds and the Sith. Apparently he had been in exile along with a large part of the remaining Galactic Alliance after Operation: Endgame.
"Listen, we've got less than a minute to-" All around them proximity alarms began to blare, and then the tech crew was gone. In the blink of an eye, the siege cannons of the enemy battlecruiser blasted the shields, sending shockwaves of force and energy into the spot where it would have totally obliterated if not for the shields and armor. Despite those though, Hosea now lay dead, his body tossed and mangled like some sort of cloth doll. The rest of the crew were likewise distributed across the now burning and slagged portion of the ship. Specialist Traynor looked up at the massive device they had been tasked with maintaining and firing and as the acrid smoke began to fill her lungs and her vision began to close in on her she felt a tug at her clothes, a ray of hope? She looked up and realized that it wasn't a hand that was tugging at her clothes, she was, in fact, hanging from a broken catwalk by the loose fabric of her uniform. 'So this is how I go?' she thought to herself as the last of her vision began to fade and she began to taste blood in her mouth. Not taken out in a tremendous ship-wide detonation or in the stars as a hotshot pilot, or even surrounded by friends and family. She would die alone, with the rest of her crew dead or dying around her, falling to her death. She didn't want to go, but she could feel her uniform tearing and she didn't have the strength to pull herself up. Her uniform tore and she fell. She promised herself she wouldn't scream but as the heat began to lick up her boots she cried out for her mother.
Muunilinst Orbit Galactic Alliance 3rd Sector Fleet
Aboard the Starchild II - Bridge
Five. Four. Three.
"Admiral, we've got a problem!" He was right, he could see it on the tactical. The orb that had represented the artificial gravity well had vanished. Pryce cursed. They'd beat him to it.
Two. One.
"Brace for impact!" He shouted. Almost at once, the mass of Sith vessels blipped into thin white lines and suddenly they were a stone's throw away. What he had wanted to really avoid with the destroyers for the sake of his own escort was now upon them. He could see the siege cannons charged and ready to fire. Weapons meant to destroy heavy fortifications from orbit fired, crashing into the Starchild's shields. The entire ship rocked and claxons began to blare urgently out as the force from the blast superheated armor plating and collapsed honeycombs. Pryce himself had nearly been thrown off his feet by the blow but had been caught and steadied by his ship's commander. The two nodded.
"Direct hit!" Pryce ran to his chair and strapped in. This was no time to be fooling around standing at a table. Immediately consoles hanging from the ceiling fell in place around him giving him just as much information as the table had been. Garvey zipped and zapped to his side, taking the size of a full-grown adult. At the arm of his chair, he lifted a metal flap and slammed the large red button. The lights cut with a loud CA-THUNK and emergency lights turned on. The large transparent viewports that had been the source of visual information began to shudder as the blast gates closed around them and sensors began filling the panels with simulated visual data nearly indistinguishable from looking through glass with the naked eye.
This was now a brawl and his plans had been altered. The bridge was just as vibrant with energy as bridge officers contacted their crews and assessed damages. They'd taken a direct hit and had nearly lost their own gravity well projector. Instead, the entirety of the deck controlling the gravity well neutralizer had been bricked. 90% casualties and severe damage, probably non-operable this battle without some sort of miracle of the Force itself, and Pryce was no Jedi. The blast had also damaged the empty berths of Sword 1 and 2 which meant they were fighting the rest of this out there. But that gave him an idea...As he took in all of this data a holo message came in. He looked to Garvey and gave him the nod to accept it. The woman before him was young and beautiful, much more so than he expected of a Sith commander. Garvey let out a whistle of appreciation and Pryce gave him a scolding look. The offer was for surrender. The thought had crossed his mind when he thought of Ava and their child, both of them back home.
"No Ma'am, I think we'll stay and fulfill our duty," he said, "But I appreciate the offer. Most Sith would have just cut us down without a second thought. I'll remember that kindness." He motioned to his com officer to cut the transmission.
"No offense, but I don't think Wing Commander Cartwright would blame you if you let Commander Sith Hotie chain you up." Garvey waggled his eyebrows. In annoyance Pryce sent the hologram away with a wave of his hand, sending the V.I. back into the ship and out of sight. His commander gave Pryce a worried look.
"I hope you've got a plan sir,"
"I do. The old plan, but with a few modifications." He looked to his weapons officer. "Lieutenant Davis, are your teams ready?" Davis looked stricken. He'd lost a large part of said team in that last attack, but his eyes were filled with the resolve of a man determined to exact revenge.
"T-They're ready sir."
"You know your target. We're going to have to pull a little heat off of us though." He looked up at the ceiling, more a force of habit when Garvey wasn't standing right in front him than a necessity, "Garvey order Commodore Satou's forces to move and send them the modified coordinates. Contact the Imps, we may need their help after all..."
"Roger that Admiral," came the disembodied voice.
Muunilinst Orbit Galactic Alliance 3rd Sector Fleet
Aboard the Agni Kai - Bridge
Commodore Satou watched in amazement as the Sith fleet jumped, trapping the Admiral and firing on it. The blast was so powerful they could see the explosion clearly from all the way back here. Almost at the same time several frigates dropped around him and the Starhawks. Not nearly as large of a problem as the Starchild was in.
"Commodore, we're receiving a transmission from the Starchild."
"Patch it through." A small holo of Garvey blipped into view and the little V.I. gave him a serious look. That wasn't good. "How bad is it?"
"Admiral says don't worry about us. But there's been a slight shift in plans." As the coordinates began to fly across the screen along with the orders he began to wonder if Pryce was suicidal or just plain stupid. But orders were orders.
"The Starhawks know what they're doing?" Garvey nodded and that was all the confirmation he needed. "Acknowledged." Right on cue his tactical indicated a gravity well had been opened up near the rear of the Skyhook. He looked to the helmsman who nodded. This was what they had been planning before, but now with the Sith Fleet right on top of Pryce it seemed that he and the Indelible 6 were pulling the weight of this operation. "Punch it." There was a flicker of pseudo motion and all of the battlecruisers were gone. The problem with microjumps was that, just as with normal hyperspace jumps, it was difficult to predict exactly where you were going to end up and in what order. That small margin of randomness, of error, had probably been the difference between the Starchild losing its entire hangar bay or some other extremely vital system. It was also, ultimately why the three Starhawks slightly overshot the Sith fleet and ended up behind them. Even though they were slow though, they had a mean turn and were quickly turning to face the undersides and engines of the Sith fleet, all the while opening up with their turbolasers and joining the brawl and gunning for the massive siege cannons above and between them.
Satou's Agni Kai and the Indelible 6 however were not joining that fight. They were operating a more surgical strike. With allies working together it was possible to coordinate and manipulate a gravity shadow. Knowing the two incoming vessels' vectors along with the Sith commander's own gutsy move the Skyhook, the fleet's main objective, had been left nearly defenseless save for the hundreds of fighters and corvettes left behind in the Sith's maneuver. The familiar flashing red of interdicted hyperspace caused the vessel to shudder and Satou gripped his chair more tightly. In the end though, both vessels came out alright, dropping in less than a kilometer off of their marks.
"Indelible 6 Turbolaser teams, target the skyhook's guns, but not too many of them, Imps'll need them later. Prepare to initiate Marg Sabl to launch remaining fighters and get our boys some help." Further even than where the Sith started this engagement, they were easily out of range. Now to capture the skyhook. Tapping a few keys on his datapad he selected Tortuga Company from the standby Marines on board. His finger hovered over the fireteam of Halcyon Commandos on loan from the Starchild, but he knew there was no room for failure. He thumbed them active two.
Muunilinst Orbit Galactic Alliance 3rd Sector Fleet
222nd Nova Corps - 81st Legion
Tortuga Company - Assigned: Battlecruiser Agni Kai Aboard the Agni Kai - Hangar
Seargent Vega stepped on to the gunship, the rest of his squad already on board. There was an eerie silence among them where just minutes ago they had all been joking around in the ready room. The mood tended to shift this way whenever Pryce's Halcyon commandos took the stage. They were bigger, tougher, and downright frightening. The 222nd Nova Corps had been briefed on them upon receiving assignment to the Third Sector Fleet. Some sort of Corellian Super Soldier that the Corellians were so tight-lipped about they'd somehow authorized complete destruction protocols on any vessels carrying them to avoid capture during naval combat. He'd heard rumors that vessels that housed them and sent them off for things exactly like this had authorization to fire on the Halcyon's homing signal danger close for any allies nearby.
He didn't like that kind of threat on his guys. One of the Halcyon nodded at him after she caught him staring.
"Remember reg, KTF. Don't screw this up for us. We aren't taking prisoners today." That was their thing. Kill them first. Probably would get them in a lot of trouble if Halcyon weren't a part of Corellia's Dark Operations.
"What does that even mean?" He heard one of his men whisper.
"Man, these Corellians, way too intense." There was a shudder as the gunship left the atmospheric barrier of the hangar and sped off into the stars along with dozens of fighters and several other gunships as they headed out of the belly of the Agni kai, following their escort around the massive battlecruiser for their objective...The Skyhook.
Sturit didn't have to wait long for support -- moments after he put out the call, a full-powered MegaCaliber-6 turbolaser blast cleared out the whole street, vaporizing half the remaining Sith troopers. He sat in stunned silence for a moment before the confirmation that the shot was friendly came in. The front two keils began cleanup while he reported in. <<"Knight Actual, this is Feral Actual. We're 100%. Nice shot. Over.">> Of course, a little heads up would've been nice, but Sturit wasn't about to complain about now-vaporized Sith troopers.
A stream of other reports and information trickled in. Infantry support from Shatter Actual, confirmation that Nomad Actual was alive and acting CO, plus a location check-in from the droptroopers ahead. Sturit took a deep breath, then started to respond.
<<"Shatter Actual this is Feral Actual. Marking position on holomap.">> The little model of the keils appeared on the holo, and Sturit quickly traced Shatter's position. <<"You're only a few blocks away. We'll be turning the corner, then proceeding east, then north. Over.">>
He switched to his company's comms, and gave the go-ahead for the front keils. The two tank trios turned their corners smoothly as they'd been trained. The left keil fired off a trio of shots, clearing out a barricade around six hundred meters down, then signaled the all-clear and began to advance. The third keil and command unit flowed neatly into the next street, followed by the the fourth, the second keil now bringing up the rear.
The captain again ordered the company to slow as they came across the next intersection. He opened up a comms channel with command, hoping for further instructions. <<"Nomad Actual this is Feral Actual. We're about to take the turn north towards the main street, then proceed towards the city center. Looking to link up with our droptroopers, but I don't know where they are. Please advise. Over.">>
The earlier burst of speed hadn't tired Dorian out nearly as much as he'd thought it would. He wasn't pulling out all the stops for Leon just yet -- the situation wasn't dire -- so his next movements could still be matched by his opponent. A shield popped out of the armored warrior's bracer to block Dorian's slash, but before Leon could return the favor and backhand him, the Force pulled the knight away, dancing out of range of his opponent's fists.
Dorian was pleasantly surprised at the result of a little trash-talking. He was facing the Murderhawke Mandalorian? He knew he recognized the name somewhere. He'd fought IGWF brawlers before; they'd been fun, but they'd never been fast. No wonder this guy was the reigning champ. Dorian grinned to his opponent, laughing at his comments. "Undefeated? Look at us, kindred spirits."
As his opponent continued, Dorian stuck his spear into the ground and grabbed it with one hand, leaning away from it and allowing himself to spin around, playing into Leon's little 'alternative career' for Dorian. A smile was plastered to his face. "You're right, I could make a living at a strip club... but when I'm done with you not even a Hutt would tap that," he shot back.
"It's nice that you think we're family, but if you were my brother... you'd be faster." There was a sudden acceleration in his spin before once more the warrior disappeared. Dorian shot like a bullet, feet-first towards Leon's right knee. Force enhanced or not, if Dorian hit it'd hurt -- he was aiming to shatter Leon's knee and slow the giant further.
Whatever the result of his initial burst, Dorian managed to stop at the far window once more, a dozen meters away from and behind Leon. He'd left his spear in the floor where he'd been earlier. Now he cracked his knuckles, grinning a challenge to the Murderhawke. "Alright big boy. You want fists? I'll give you fists." He started forward, each step pushing him faster and faster. As he moved forward he subtly pulled his weapon back to him; the crimson spear tore out of the floor and shot towards the back of Leon's right knee. It wasn't entirely a feint, but being able to attack twice in the same moment was always a brutal combination. Dorian once more became a blur as he moved, leaping up and spinning forward, a vicious ax kick aimed at Leon's head, just as the spear reached him as well.
About time somebody knocked off that undefeated title.
Caide’s head snaps back with a resounding crack as the fist connects and shocks his senses like a bolt of lightning, everything flashing white for a split second as he stumbles back. The force of that punch, the accuracy, everything was perfect. He had no doubt it would put most soldiers on the ground no problem. But Caide was not most soldiers. As he regains his balance, his slightly unfocused green eye blazes with barely contained animalistic fury, primitive and violent, tempered only by years upon years of battlefield experience. He grits his teeth in a snarl as he rushes low, aiming to tackle FN-999 to the ground...
Location: Someone else's penthouse, Streets of Harnaidan. Objective: Chase NIO off my damn lawn. Equipment: Gildenweave Boxer Briefs | [3] Karza'Arana Writing With: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
---
And just like that, the last of his Sithspawn was dead. Mea culpa - had he known that she only had the one barrage of lightning left in her, he would simply have told it to finish the job with its flamethrower, but oh well, sometimes even he had to get his hands dirty.
He did not anticipate much of a challenge from the recently disarmed soldier.
Making his way to the penthouse's landing platform after locating the key fob from yesterday - his memory was beginning to come back, now that the drugs were out of his system, and man had he had a good time - he found himself looking at a droid-operated hoverlimo. Alright, so he still had no clue where he had found or requisitioned it, but baby steps.
After confirming that his clothes were, in fact, not inside the limo either, he instructed it to make its way to where the nameless soldier had fallen.
If she had regained consciousness by that time, she would be greeted by the rather odd sight of an ivory hoverlimo setting down on the battle-scarred street, an athletic young man in designer underwear stepping forth, a wry smile on his features.
"My oh my, you've been quite the hassle, haven't you? A red lightsaber, though... doesn't seem very Force Corps to me. Who are you?"
// "SSD" // // OBJECTIVE // Tithe Collection // ANNIHILATION // M O N O L I T H // Free Market [NIO] //Avernus // Statists [TSE] // Aerarii Tithe
| Darth Argentum
| Madelyn Lowe The Skakoan had all but a brief glare of gold in his eyes for Tithe before he retreated further into the complex.
"Hmmmm." Tambor offered before he peered over the section of Sith-Imperial Legionnaires there to greet him. The hail of particle beams started immediately. Given the Chairman's immense profile, most each and every shot made purchase, washing over the shielding and thick armor playing of the Turbo Annihilator. The immediately accrued damage served to shake static through his inbuilt heads-up-display.
Hefting up his right arm the Skakoan let off a three round pulse cycling through the four Stopilka disruptor rifles mounted to the armor and his arm, disintgrating three of the Sith Imps -- leaving nothing but the echo of suffering in their wake as they offered up one final scream in defiance of the aching torment they'd felt as their mortal forms were deconstructed cell by cell.
An EMP Grenade thrown at the feet of the Foreman sent an electric shock through the Skakoan's armor, rupturing through to stink the green, nigh gelatinous form of the Skakoan, causing the Lord Of War to offer up a low groan of pain before he hefted the gun to fire into the chest of the Legionnaire responsible.
"Avernus...rid of these creatures. I will assail Tithe." And so the Tithe Collection began. In the wake of Tithe's retreat, he could only hear the rupturing immensely heavy steps of Gat Tambor confined within his power armor.
"WOWERERERERRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE- You can not run forever, Tithe! Each step is but a delay of the inevitable, my friend." He said, another Legionnaire emerging in an attempt to intercept the Skakoan, only for the alien to let the cybernetic power claw from his right hand emerge before planting it square in the man's chest, caving in his flesh with a horrid rupture. A momentary lapse before he was back on Tithe's trail again, the Hunter-Seeker droid mounted to his shoulder continuously whirring in a loud and frantic pace.
Madelyn Lowe
|
Jyon Hlervu
|
Aerarii Tithe
| Sith Empire forces
Imperial Warlord Zovesa
|
Hunter Blackburn
|
Darth Bellum
| New Imperial Order forces | Open for a fight
