Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Invasion Schism's Dawn // NIO invasion of TSE controlled Mygeeto and Muunilinst


Location | Myeeto [Orbit]
Objective | OBJECTIVE 2: Battle of the Bloody Aurora | NIO-TSE Naval Battle Over Mygeeto
Allies | Tyrell Paxxus Tyrell Paxxus | Lunafreya Solidor Lunafreya Solidor
Enemies | Thaelius Thaelius | Telis Taharin-Zambrano Telis Taharin-Zambrano



The bridge shook , as the enemy Fleet began unleashing hell on the Predator. Elements of the Sith-Imperial Fleet had begun opening fire on Wraith Squadron pounding the shields of the vessels of Marlon’s Fleet. The Skills of his opponent were impressive to say though once more he had underestimated Marlon Sularen. By making such a move , Captain Sularen realized that his enemy was mainly going to use overwhelming firepower to defeat Marlon Sularen , a big mistake.

With the enemy relying on overwhelming firepower , it was clear that the enemy was ignoring Marlon Sularen’s Starfighter supremacy which would allow Marlon to utilize any Starfighter Tactic At ease without any sort of major opposition. “Have all ships divert their power to their Molecular Shields and deploy all of our Support Craft. I have a little surprise reserved for our friend here.” Marlon ordered. Soon the Molecular Shields of the vessels of Wraith Squadron would be up and the reserve support craft were deployed.

With the Reserve Tie Maulers and Bruisers deployed , Marlon’s plan was laid out. His Fighters and Bombers would conduct an A-Wing Slash followed by a modified Nova Flare. The Fighters [Tie Drones , Outlanders and Slashers] would approach the enemy’s Defensive Fighter Screen and then pull away in order to draw the Sith-Imperial Fighters out. Then once the gap opened the Bombers [Tie Bruisers and Maulers] would accelerate and head straight towards the four Sith-Imperial Star Destroyers that were attacking Wraith Squadron and fire everything they had against them in a modified Nova Flare in order to decimate them.

If this tactic was successful then Marlon would deal a huge blow to the enemy Fleet and even then the chances of the Enemy Fleet successfully countering such an attack were low given that rather then launching multiple A-Wing Slashes across a larger area , Marlon had his Fighters concentrate on one single point in front of the HIMS Stronger Together and then once the gap was opened the Fighters would focus on keeping that one singular gap open while all Bombers would strike at one target and then fan out and strike at other targets afterwards.

In this case , the Tie Bruisers and Maulers would focus solely on the HIMS Stronger Together focusing on the Ships exposed bridge and vulnerable Turreted Warhead Projectile Tubes and then targeting the other 3 Tormentor-Class Star Destroyers that were attacking Wraith Squadron striking at their main Weapons and if possible their bridges. According to Marlon’s Officers the result would range from the total destruction of the HIMS Stronger Together and moderate damage inflicted on the 3 other Vessels to the total destruction of all 4 ships.

With that Marlon then proceeded to recall his atmospheric strike force as a means of conducting the sudden strike. What Marlon expected was a swift strike to catch his enemy by complete surprise despite the tense atmosphere of the battle to deal a heavy blow on the reinforcing Sith-Imperial Fleet in order to overwhelm and decimate them. If everything went as according to plan , Marlon would be one step closer to total Victory.

  • The Vessels of Wraith Squadron activate their Molecular Shields allowing them to hold off against the Massive Bombardment from Superior Sith-Imperial Forces
  • All Remaining Support Craft have been deployed
  • The Atmospheric Strike Force sent to attack the Sith-Imperial Satellites are called off.
  • 20 Tie Drone Squadrons , 10 Tie Outlander Squadrons , 5 Tie Slasher Squadrons and all Tie Bruisers and Maulers execute an A-Wing Slash on one single point within the enemy’s Defensive Fighter Screen.
  • After breaking through the Tie Bruisers and Maulers execute a Nova flare and fire everything they have at the HIMS Stronger Together’s Bridge and Warhead Projectile Tubes and proceed to fan out and target the weapons of the other three attacking vessels [HIMS Imperator , HIMS Bloody Vengeance and HIMS Liberty’s Lie]
    • OOC Note : Realistic Wise this action should destroy the HIMS Stronger Together and inflict some damage to the other three vessels
 
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[LOCATION] Mesa Tower Aurek (A), Bridge One - En route to First Brother/No-man's Land
[ALLIES] NIO, Imperial Warlord Zovesa Imperial Warlord Zovesa Cai-Lan Raeth Cameron Farwell Darth Morrow Darth Morrow Jekadius Lawson Jekadius Lawson
[ALLIED UNITS] X 5 Deruz Series Cybermen, 1 Squad/2 Fireteams - 11 Members. (Background Fluff)
[ENEMIES] TSE, Madelyn Lowe Madelyn Lowe @Obinmiux @R'avfa Jyon Hlervu Jyon Hlervu Lark Lark Darth Kados Amur
[ENEMY UNITS] x7 Kraujas Arana | Assortment of Valkyrie NPCs (No direct input, background fluff) - Battle Sisters, Shield Maidens, Banshees & Valkyries
[EQUIPMENT] ARMOR, FORCESABER,
[FOCUS] Tarrik Kestis Tarrik Kestis Vaylin Vaylin

The bridge was not the best situation to be on. You could hear the screaming of Tie Fighters over head through the winds. The Falling of Artillery rounds from either side slamming home somewhere on the field. Bolts from weapons flying almost at random to see if they hit someone. In the case of one of the rifleman, getting shot in the shoulder by a random bolt fired from the other side of the bridge. Somehow not hitting anything until him. While his armor dissipated most of it, he did complain of a burn from his shoulder.

Looking foward, We kept low, and almost scuttled across the bridge. Using Stealth and silence for our side. Trying to discern which ship our downed brother was in. We came close to one of our own. A Starfighter. Sadly, the inside was burned up. Flames still pouring out from the cockpit where a body lay lifeless and charred.

I just wished that it was not him. Coming out here, taking men on a mission that we may very well lose. However, it was when I thought I heard a voice on the bridge. One that sounded strange. How is it that we could hear a voice in this storm? I turned to the other soldiers. Two of them nodded, and another shrugged. They had heard it too. Something was going on. Something was going down. We were still far enough away that the bridge seemed to almost end due to the storm and disruption of our vision. However, I could see up ahead a giant red spot in the Infrared. Likely the engine still warm. It had been heated up so much I couldn't tell if there was a body at all.

Drawing closer and closer, I held my hand out in a fist. Stopping all of the men. Aiming directly at the ship. Slowly coming up around side it, inching my way to the bay door... and flung open.

A mass of bodies that were long since dead. However, all were troopers, with one or two of them being Imperial Knights.

"Damn it."
"I don't see an Inquisitor."
"Get their tags. We can recover the bodies later."
"Yes, Sir."

The group went through the dead bodies in the ship. Many were missing limbs, heads and whatever else from being battered inside. Their tumble ended their life. As the last few were gathered, A piercing Roar came over the storm. One which I could feel my heart to begin to beat faster. A couple of the men almost yelled out in a fright.

Echoing in the storm. Trouble was ahead of us. Further into the storm.

"We need to move. Now."
 

Leon Amun

The Murderhawke Mandalorian
C:\Murderhawke\Mission\Allies> Lord Venari Lord Venari | Vallaro Kindall Vallaro Kindall
C:\Murderhawke\Mission\Enemies> Ryv Ryv | Lucien Dooku Lucien Dooku | Dorian Sicarrio Dorian Sicarrio
C:\Murderhawke\Mission\Objective> Defend the Muunilist capital city of Harnaidan
C:\Murderhawke\Mission\Gear> In character bio

As Leon turned to watch the man in front of him swing around the spear, the Mandalorian couldn't help but think that he'd probably pay some good money to get an actual dance from the speedster. He was pretty sure that the pair would have a lovely time if they weren't in the middle of a battlefield with the fate of a planet at stake. Of course, they could discuss this over drinks if Dorian wasn't dead by the end of this duel because just like in the bedroom, there was no way the spear wielder would be able to take him.

All thoughts of seduction were thrown out the window the minute Dorian decided to go on the offensive once more. The drop kick to the legs was quickly countered be a side step as he let his flashy little opponent zoom by him. The Murderhawke was getting so tired of fighting speedsters, it seemed like the only people left in the universe willing to fight the armored behemoth were people who always praised their own speed. It had lost it's shine a long time ago when he met his two lovers best friends. Granted his opponent was faster than most, certainly faster than both Venari and Vallaro but to The Murderhawke Mandalorian, he was just another fast kid who would be met with an even faster end.

The only redeeming factor that Dorian had going for him, was his agreement to go along with a fist fight, good, he was hoping for an all out slug fest. As his opponent charged at him, Leon noticed the moving spear. So that's how it was going to be, the boy had no honor it seemed. Immediately moving to counter and grab the spear, activating his crushgaunts immediately to keep it from moving, Leon braced and let his opponents leg collide with his helmet. While the blow certainly rattled the helmet, it had endured for worse than a force enhanced kick.

"I was right not to be afraid of you, Brother. Any man who has to rely on weapons in a fist fight has no chance of Defeating the Murderhawke Mandalorian Leon Hawke" The words of his opponent carried no weight to them anymore, he had shamed himself beyond repair. Leon held no anger or hate towards his opponent, only pity, pity for someone who would go back on their word so easily.

The giant threw his opponents spear back at him before charging at his opponent using a mix of the force to enhance his natural speed and the thrusters on his arms and legs. He arrived at his opponent shortly after the spear to deliver a flurry of enhanced punches at him. This is what a fist fight was supposed to be, a test of wills and who was stronger, there was no place for trickery among true warriors
 
The Inexhaustible
Location: The Black Sword
TSE Allies: Telis Taharin-Zambrano Telis Taharin-Zambrano
NIO Enemies: Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen Tyrell Paxxus Tyrell Paxxus

"How stupid" was the only reaction from the Chiss Admiral as he witnessed the catosphraphic damage done to the HMIS Stronger Together. In an effort to prevent it's total destruction the Interdiction Fields had been shut off temporarily allowing for it to make a jump directly behind the Black Sword as did the other vessels.

This was going to be harder than he initially though but of course his enemy had made a tactical mistake. Deploying more fighters did indeed give him fighter superiority but there was a concept to Hus madness. The Black Shadow itself unleashed thousands of Smart Missiles and Guided Missiles targeting the enemy fighter craft. The support craft had been identified as slower than the normal craft and as such would be dealt with.

As for the other ships of Wraith Squadron, with most of his Destroyer's intact the attack would be pressed however the Velox Fast Assault Frigates would stay true to thier name and launch fast attacks on the Destoyer's while Close Quarters combat would occur with the other ships by the other wings.

Meanwhile, the Black Sword and the fleets Communication ship both of the being capable Battlecruisers would launch long range assaults on the Predator

The Black Sword has ddeployed Smart Missiles and Guided Missile's to counter the surplus fighters.
The Stronger Together would withdraw to the outer edge of the system.
The remaking Star Destoyer's would focus on the Destoyer's and Cruisers of Wraith Squadron.
The Secondary Flagship would begin engaging the Epitah II along with @Telis Gagarin's Flagship
The Velox Class Fast Assuakt Frigates would launch raid-like attacks on the bridges of Wraith Destroyer's
The Black Sword and Communications Battlecruiser would launch long range assaults on the Predator including the Black Sword's Four Covenant Hypervelocity Cannons firing 4 Rounds (1 per cannon)
 
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Location: Mygeeto \\
Objective: Traverse the Bridges and Capture Mesas Tower B\\Find and Remove who's controlling the Sith Spawn
Allies: NIO Forces, Imperial Force Corps, Imperial Warlord Zovesa Imperial Warlord Zovesa
Enemies: Lark Lark
Gear: In Bio

Law had known Jedi if only for a short time, he had now served with the NIO for months, but the majority of his life Law had been a Sith apprentice. True the backwaters he had been with wouldn't stand like a wet noodle against the force users he has seen on the battle since his introduction to the Force Corps but they had still been a challenge for him at the time. If he could claim one thing Law had truly learned while under his former master's tutelage was mortal combat. All that said something was off, this Sith didn't want to boast or declare absolute sovereignty over the universe. Somehow that instilled more fear than any threat.

Unfortunately mid fight was a poor time to explore possible mental states of your opponent, save it for the Jedi saviors and Sith temptresses. So he wasn't ready for a plume of snow to rise up obscuring his vision and half a second later the shadow of a knife cutting through the plane of white, no time to dodge short of a full leap that would leave him at the Sith's mercy, Law rose his offhand placing his forearm on the sacrificial alter. The blade bit into his flesh but his armor weakened some of the force and a series of pricks further up his arm informed him that his suit was treating to the best of it's ability.

Law took the pain and stored it under “deal with later” cabinet of his mind, with his body Law charged into the snow wall as it started to blow away. Pulling his blade over his head for a powerful downward slash Law pushed on the knife embedded into his arm removing the cursed metal from his flesh but not enough to send it flying away instead it popped out a few inches and flipped as it fell. While he continued through with his overhead blow Law continued his force manipulation of the dagger forcing the blade toward the ground and his opponents foot. His attack from above besought a strong stance to block it while the dagger demanded blood or flight. How would this Sith respond?

All the while two prisoners crept close to their cages in Jekadius Lawson's mind. One a scared child, failure in everything, a simple member of the galaxy missing their family. The other an aborted Sith soul child all too willing to revel in the carnage of the day. They both could hear the riots of the real world deep in the mental prison. But their crimes of passion were grievous and security tight, subconscious warden sure they would never see the light of day.
 
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Location: Harnaidan City
Task: Objective One - Be a Hero
Focus: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt AMCO AMCO

Faction: New Imperial Order
---

Back into the breach, back into the cycle. Ravraa slammed his form against the first barricade of concrete that he could find. Desperately slapping at the power-pack on the side of his carbine, as if attempting to tame a temperamental beast. The rest of his squad, while staying close, huddling to their own sections of cover where they could. He didn't have to give a specific order, each and every one of them knew the score, plain and simple. Accuracy by sheer volume of fire. The sharp pains through his leg kept him from moving as he should, he didn't snap to the top of his cover, instead he lugged his upper frame to hoist his elbow against the debris. Using it to stabilize and act as a firing platform. Now, the SE-61 carbine was a reliable weapon, reasonably built, and accurate to a fault. It could be said that it may be one of the better tools in galactic service at the time, but given with the ungodly intent that Ravraa began slinging rounds down the street, one would assume that the Ancients themselves had made the tool to fell cities themselves. The roar of the carbine came, quick and jittery bursts of hot red plasma wraithing their path downwards. There was hardly proper thought as he brought the holosight from target to target, letting the crimson circle settle for a millisecond before bringing the trigger down. Burst, drop, burst, drop, repeat on repeat as the Legionaries dared to show themselves. The battle had weighed on him, the entire operation was dragging his sense of self into the beyond, and despite the heartwarming moment with the dying soul just minutes ago, Ravraa had turned off all reasoning. Right now, they were targets, targets that threatened all that he cherished. He would hate himself for this day later. It would play in repeat over and over, with the beat of a track to a horror flick, but that was far, far away from now. All that was drumming through his mind was the three jolts of the blaster as he weaved through the hostiles as they appeared. Smoke rising from black plate as they dropped. His squad, seeing their would be leader deal death in such a proper form, attempted to mimic as they could. Every now and again, among the litany of small arms fire, the loud brthrush of Jeresan's rifle as it took entire chunks of the enemies cover from their scrambling positions. Perhaps, Ravraa did not do as well as he had imagined in the grand scheme of the endless hoards of the Sith-Imperial Army, but this was therapeutic to a point.

The smoke canisters had settled, and popping up the sea of grey, Ravraa finally allowed his pluming barrel to relax, if just for a moment. There was a joy in having friendlies, at least for once. Other troopers that could call some shots and cover his back, other faces that he could forget if they fell, nameless shapes. It made the flow of combat easier. As easy as he could make it. The comms in the local region were buzzing with different callouts and conflicting orders, callsigns and concepts that Ravraa simply was unfamiliar with due to his placement in Dorn-2. Every squad seemed to operate differently, but this was the honest thick of it, how war actually operated. How conflicts actually unfolded. Ravraa was daring to bring himself to a stand now that there was a firm sheet of smoke between him and the hostiles, nearly ready to give the call to his squad to begin moving back. To fall back, perhaps this area was lost and the best they could do was stall the Sith-Imperials.

Then, the Cavalry Arrived. Ravraa hardly knew who the approaching unit was, or what their exact numbers were, but when Bird Dogs came flooding into the streetway, he felt his heart skip a beat. He watched the sea of white betaplast swarm into the streets, leveling their rifles and bringing down hostiles as the last prayers of the smoke began to dissipate from anything properly useful. It was the crescendo to their chorus, and it appeared that the audience was poorly prepared for such an entrance of the bass section. Watching his fellow Imperials hurtle over barricades, shouting and jostling praises as they rushed into the depth of battle made him realize that the solution to his problems had finally found him. There was a quiet, a moment before the Sith-Imperials could properly mount a return charge, a response to the sudden bout of bravery from the Imperial lines. It was in this quiet that Ravraa, with his body slacking, arms loosely hanging at his side as he moved from beyond his cover, the limp in his step seemingly having faded from mention if for the moment. He wanted answers, he wanted some form of direction, he wanted some assurance that he and his men would be making it out of this properly. Thus, he headed his way to the most important looking set of troopers.

A captain and lieutenant, neither of who he knew on a personal level, seemed to be having some form of back and forth. Ravraa entered the conversation roughly at the "only a block over" line, and instantly his mind began churning. There was a point where he was hardly even registering the words that the troopers were saying, taking what he needed as a jist of conversation. A commander, a female commander, was lost a block over. Something about some Sith? Something something, Ravraa gets to be a badass hero? Within his mind, he only clicked the most important factors for himself and his squad, and a wicked smile played across his lips as he listened to the conversation. Reaching out, completely unannounced, he gave the Captain a rough pat on the shoulder, chuckling before he spoke.

<"Thankfully, not asking permission, can't condone. Dorn-2 is taking this one, boys!"> He would shout out back to his men, earning a pump of rifles into the air as they fell in behind him. Giving the captain yet another harsh pat onto the shoulder before bringing his rifle at the ready, nearly pushing past the arguing pair, as he waved for his men to fall in behind him. Loyal to a fault, they did exactly as he expected. Their HUDs were alive with the updated map, and as they inched in the direction, they came to life with the very same distress beacon that the pair had been speaking of. Echoing out, again and again. The quickest route, at least to Ravraa's understanding, would be cutting through the alleyways, the same way that they had managed to get as far as they had.

He wasn't counting on the entire damned Sith-Imperial army to be marching down the street. Before he had even dared a step outside of the alley, a blaster bolt called down infront of his path, chatter and shouts coming from down the road. A squad at best if he had to assume. He went to a crouch not soon after, motioning for Dorn-2 to mimic him. There was nearly nothing in the way of cover in his direct sight, simply rows and rows of buildings without any mentionable notes to their construction, more of the same. His rifle stock hard against his shoulder, he would lean out, daring a peak. Six hostiles, about half a block down, seemingly all standard infantry. Full auto, no worry about proper control of his rifle, sent the well organized and spaced advance onto his position shifting and rushing into doorways and smashing through windows in desperate bids to find cover. He wasn't aiming to score hits, simply scare them. During the rain of suppressing fire three members of Dorn-2 took the moment to sprint across the open road, ducking into the alleyway opposite of their setup. The three that stayed on the side with Ravraa turned the right corner, moving down road, kicking over a public bench and using it as quick makeshift cover that didn't compromise their sight lines. The grand chess game of combat began to play out, the Sith Imperials would dare to peak out of cover, offer some suppressive fire, push up, and Dorn-2 would attempt their best to send rounds at the approaching enemy. Their ingrained defense tagged two of the Legionaries, sending them sprawling to the dirt. One of them still squirming. This went on for sometime, Ravraa flashing hand signals occasionally to his men, the shots they fired seeming to specifically lure the Legionaries into a specific strait. Eventually, seemingly having forgotten about Ravraa's emplacement from the lack of fire from him during their advance. They had taken camp in the shop just around the corner from Ravraa's position in the alleyway. Reaching down to his belt, he detached one of the two thermal detonators that hung from his belt. He tapped the release, the device fading a bright red glow, once, twice. He leaned over the corner and chucked the detonator through a window, shattering it. The last sight he had of the Legionaries was pure panic as they recognized the grenade nearly instantly. The moment he brought himself back to his cover, there was a harsh shuddering and shaking of the building, sending some of the bricks loose from their positions in the ancient lower levels. The entire front of the store exploded outwards, sending shards and sections of furniture into the street. He waited, and when no response came from the eviscerated shop, he moved from the alleyway, waving for his men to follow him. The beacon was close...

---
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt AMCO AMCO

Bursting through yet another alleyway, they had finally come upon the block where Lyra's transmission was booming from. Standard procedure, clear the area, establish the location of hostiles, figu-


<"What the Hell...">

The sight that they had come upon was nearly indescribable. Countless bodies, slaughtered in ways that made the imagination itch with a perverse nightmare. Limbs, sections of armor, score marks aplenty, enough to nearly decorate the buildings, as if someone had attempted a paint job in the middle of the conflict. Then, there were those things fallen in odd patterns. The echoing chatter through comms had described them as beasts, as demons, creatures of the night. Ravraa could safely say that none of those descriptors did the strange, eldritch, yet nearly graceful look to the abominations that fell side by side trooper in the field did them justice. They were something else, something that didn't click with Ravraa, something foreign to an unknown extreme. He didn't have the word for them, he didn't understand what they were, besides some machination of the Sith warmachine.

Within all of that mess, it was impossible to make out Lyra, and he would have been convinced that she was dead among the slaughter if it hadn't been for a sight, all too strange, in the middle of the absolute carnage in front of him. There was a man, albeit it what appeared to be a very fetching man to Ravraa, crouched in the middle of all of the mess, all of the Hell that was this scene from a dark plot, over a body of irregular betaplast. He seemed unarmed, nearly as much as the body that he was crouched over, but Ravraa couldn't take that risk for the moment. Was... was he in his small clothes? Was that a fucking limo behind him? Whatever he had stumbled upon, two parts horrific and one part comical, there was a catch in his throat when he first attempted to take the entire situation in. Was he a civilian? He thought all of the Sith-Imperial serfs were to have been relocated off world before the invasion.

For whatever reason that he could muster, a dread gripped Ravraa as he leveled his rifle at the man's direction, the other six members of Dorn-2 that had come with him, including Jeresan, followed his lead. There was a shake to nearly each and everyone of their sightlines, the viscera around them... unnaturally real in the flesh.

<"St-..."> He began, swallowing before starting again, attempting to doctor an authoritarian tone.


<"Step back, hands up. Leave the area!" >
 
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FN-999

Guest
F
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OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE HIGH-PRIORITY TARGET
ALLIES: NIO Forces
OPPOSITION: TSE Forces
ENGAGING: Mazrim Caide/Taim Mazrim Caide/Taim
EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE, AS WELL AS SBR-60x BATTLE RIFLE

As FN-999 suspected, his adversary lacked the agility and strength to block his blow.

However, his opponent did not collapse to the ground as many others had done when hit with a blow so powerful. His vitality had consistently exceeded FN-999's expectations, as he blocked blow after blow and remained strong enough to inflict strikes of his own. But FN-999 still held two key advantages. One - while short on breath, FN-999's body was almost entirely intact, his armor secure and his bones unscathed. On the other hand, Caide had sacrificed the strength of certain limbs to block his blows, and was short of an eye. Two - his enemy, realizing the disparity in their strengths, had become desperate. As he lunged at FN-999, he knew his course of action.

FN-999 let Caide knock him to the ground, his back slamming roughly against the uneven concrete of the road beneath them. But as Caide's body began to descend upon FN-999's, the latter began to pull his legs back. He rapidly tucked them into his chest, before thrusting them upwards directly towards the groin of Caide above him. If it connected properly, then surely the force of the kick would be enough to knock Caide to the ground and incapacitate him for long enough to stick a plasma bolt in his head.
 
Location: Uppermost Portion | Bridge B | Pushing towards Sith barricades
Allies: Darth Bellum Darth Bellum | Grrwunhoooll Agaburry Grrwunhoooll Agaburry | Imperial Warlord Zovesa Imperial Warlord Zovesa
Enemies: Darth Kados | Amur | Jyon Hlervu Jyon Hlervu

A hail of blaster bolts fell upon the Galactic Marines, the soldier's armor made to take the shots allowed them to progress forward, but at a slower pace. Those bits of armor that couldn’t withstand more shots they used the wrist shields to throw off the bolts. At their head Adrial continued his march forward, his own shield raised on his left arm, in his right the Albatross raised high.

One of the blaster bolts flung at Adrial by the red-skinned Sith struck the soldier in his right shoulder. On impact the bolt dispersed the kinetic impact of it pushing into the Thyrisian’s shoulder. Where there should’ve perhaps been pain the Thyrisian oil turned it into nothing but a dull throb. Behind the glasteel visor, Adrial’s eyes narrowed.

Arm moving over, he intercepted another bolt, while tucking his body in slightly to avoid the others. When he joined the New Imperial Order Adrial had never intended to fight a Sith. He never even wanted to run into one. To challenge such an individual usually meant death, but in these moments, turning back would dishonor the sacrifice of those who’d lost their own lives. Would sully the name of the Galactic Marines.

“Vice, Linkz, take the troops and push up the right side of the bridge. Do not, I repeat do not approach the Sith. Pop the dampener aerosols to cover your approach.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll hold the Sith off, I can’t allow him to continue to cut down our brothers.”

“And what will you do? Join them in an early grave.”

“This is what we live for, what we die for! If I die here, so be it. At least I bought you, boys, some time.”

With each step, the force would reverberate as the necklace upon Adrial’s neck clanked together. Right-hand raising, still clutching the Albatross, Adrial activated the repulsor tech built into the wrist. “Suck on this you piece of sh-” The rest of the sentence was drowned out as from Adrial’s wrist a shockwave of concussive force was released. The shockwave reverberated through the air seeking to slam into the Sith, while Adrial closed the distance to within a few feet.

While Adrial approached the Sith, the rest of the Galactic marines moved to the right side of the bridge. The zabrak Linkz, and the aqualesh Vice, pulled their canisters of dampener aerosol from their armor tossing them high into the air. Blue streams of gas escaped from the canisters, falling upon the bridge and blinding the legionnaires to the approaching marines. As the blaster bolts entered the mist they did little than lightly slap the Marines as they charged into the clouds, the thick gas.
 
Navi [Version 10.0.18363.752]
(c) Locke and Key Mechanics. All rights reserved.


C:\Vallaro\Mission\Allies> Leon Amun Leon Amun Lord Venari Lord Venari
C:\Vallaro\Mission\Enemies> Ryv Ryv Lucien Dooku Lucien Dooku Dorian Sicarrio Dorian Sicarrio
C:\Vallaro\Mission\Gear> In character bio
Theme


Mandalorian speech rang through the hunter’s comms. “Does he not remember I don’t speak mand-” Though was interrupted by action as Vallaro found himself being brought to the ground by Venari. A streak of red-hot energy cut through the space where he once stood in a wide arc and a pair of Jedi flew into the building over propelled by the same destructive energy. “Bastard could have at least told me to get down!”

The hunter rose to his feet only to be tossed yet again, this time by a wave of force that sent him through the air and back crashing through a window adjacent his ally. Subdermal armor had absorbed some of the force that cast him aside, transparisteel windows absorbed the rest. Unlike his Sith Compatriot, Vallaro found himself careening straight down the side of the building. Rockets kicked to life. Flames jetting as the mercenary struggled against inertia.

The ground was racing towards him, mere seconds before flesh met pavement. Three stories, rockets flared as the hunter aligned himself. Two stories, repulsors aligned with the ground. One, rockets flared with full force. A dragon’s breath came from beneath him scorching the earth below. The hunter's descent slowed as the inferno incinerated ground beneath him and the opposing forces of thrust and gravity strained his body until they reached a balance. For a precious moment Vallaro was suspended in the air, mere feet from the ground below.

The equilibrium broke. Vallaro rose back up the side of the building to find himself back next to his ally. It seems they were in agreement. Leon was more than capable enough of handling himself. It was up to them to chase down the two Jedi before they could escape. “Lead the way.” While Vallaro himself had lost track of them, lacking in the force as he was. Venari always seemed to know where to go at times like these.

Running through the twists and turns of abandoned building the duo eventually found their mark. A tower that had once acted as the central passage through these buildings now served as their battleground. Vallaro started by tossing a hydra grenade over to his ally. As lightning descended upon the Jedi Vallaro hopped off the bridge and added some spice of his own to the mix. With a whipping motion the hunter loosed a shiva knife between the two Jedi while firing his SMG at the Shieldless one he believed the lesser of the pair. “Now, show me how you dance boy!”
 
Objective: Give Tavlar a good scrap
Allies: TSE | Mazrim Caide/Taim Mazrim Caide/Taim
Opposition: Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar | FN-999

Post #4


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The term "in an instant" was but normal paced life in the realm of technology. It was a life that happened in fractions of a second, where even the unremarkable act of turning a switch was an explosion of energy reacting with a cluster of unspoken commands manipulating it. It was that hastened pace which Cara thought and worked and buried herself in for decades. It was what had kept her focused on the present, steeped her mind in calculations of cause and effect rather than haphazardly chase her own private interests. But now those careful interests came into violent conflict with one another, forcing her to risk her background existence to settle their interwoven quarrel. In reality, her own quarrel.

Nothing organic was left to tell her the punch would have hurt, that the blow should have made her fall to her knees or gasp or merely react. Instead she maintained her footing and began to drill another blow into Tavlar’s head. The grasp of his shuk'orok about her arm had caused little concern to the engineer, but the string of commands that surged from his bionic arm warranted action. The two loudest caused her to give a mental groan: “EJECT” and “ACTIVATE.”

The first was simple and quick, too quick for her to override, but the latter was caught on the last line of its sequence and cancelled. The vibroknife sunk past her armorweave, biting into the silicon replacement of her abdomen below the articulated segments of her ribcage. That would require quite a patch.

Distracted with wrenching away his arm the next sensation she was aware of was a slam to her calf, followed by weightlessness, then terminated with a dull thrum as her body hit the ground. The general bore years of honed skill. She cursed him for wasting it.

Once the arms met duracrete she rammed her elbows downward, the sockets revving to raise her forward and roll onto open palms. It was deceptively effortless as her body became a pendulum, swinging in a rapid arc with both boots aimed to smash in Tavlar's face.

Back to her feet, Cara’s stomp cracked the ‘crete below it, the brutal slam sending enough vibrations to map the earth below them.

“They are the image of conceit and the Empire is a means to stroke their pride. I despise that fact but I do not hide from it, for it is their lusts that has bred the Empire into the expanding machine it is. I will use their greed for the benefit of the galaxy until it all collapses,” the ground rumbled slightly, its natural tension becoming agitated, “I was so close to joining your cause, Tavlar. You held such PROMISE! A rational mind that challenged the faults of the "elite?" Someone who sought to honestly improve the construction of the Empire? Of course I support that. But now I learn the purpose of your “New Order” has been altered, changed to become a tool to relieve your guilt.”

An explosion of two, slim earthen pillars ruptured from the ground between the two, aimed for the general’s center mass.
 
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Melia Siari

Guest
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A N N I H I L A T I O N
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Location: HIMS Imperial Fist | Bridge
Objective: Defend Muunilist
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: New Imperial Order | Dracken Pryce Dracken Pryce


This was it. The culmination of everything.

Decades of naval experience, years of discrimination over gender and her species in a humanocentric, male dominated, Empire; and now she was staring her chance to be promoted or executed directly in the face. She'd not anticipated the micro jump the Alliance ships had managed to pull off, but it was still well in line with her original plan - the one which she was already moving forward with as the opposing commanding officer turned down her offer for life. She had struggled her entire life to get this far, and though her conscience weighed heavy on her with the words that were to follow she could not find the strength to hold back the urgency which leaped into her chest as adrenaline surged through her veins like the acrid sting of glitterstim.


"Is he -?"

"This is Trierarch Siari to Task Group, proceed with plague protocol - disgorge your hangars en masse." The Zeltron said with a tone lingering on regret, though the expression plastered on her face was muted at best. "Tear these ships apart, swarm their hangars and blow them apart if you must. Terror, Pressure, Order, and Ascension you are to annihilate the Alliance cruisers, leave none of them alive. Imperial Fist to Imperial Reach, you are to assist - bring these cruisers to their knees and put tractors on the destroyers." She continued, wondering what the number of families that would be losing their husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters in the reckless refusal for surrender she'd been given might end up being. "Ma'am, there are ships converging on the sky hook." The Mirialan interjected, perhaps the one and only time the Trierarch might have let such an interruption slide.

Melia smiled grimly. "What sky hook?" She asked. Wide-eyed, the Mirialan didn't need to ask what she meant by her words, and the surprise was clearly shared with the rest of the commanding officers still on holographic display. "Siari to Sharpshooter and Vornskr please adjust rotation and fire your coil guns on the Starhawks - Voxyn, Terentatek, please push towards the command ship's flanks, rain our displeasure on their bridge if you can." She carried on, before tapping a button near her right hand. "Black Leader, this is Trierarch Siari, I apologize for what I am about to ask, but I need guerrilla tactics on the approaching vessel coming for our sky hook. You will have support shortly."


"Understood, though I don't know what we can accomplish against a battlecruiser, much less two."

"Trierarch we are taking heavy fire from below - shields are already below eighty-five percent." Her combat analyst chimed in, his concern perhaps present only because it was their own ship he was reporting damage on. "Our defenses will hold." She replied dismissively, although the slight uptick in her heart rate disagreed with her resolve. "Red, Blue, and Black you are to turn and jump back to the sky hook. Provide support for Black Leader if need be, but be prepared for protocol zero." Melia instructed, flipping a switch which ended the holo-call she'd had going with the rest of her subordinates. "How long do we have, then?" She asked, her gaze turning to her combat analyst, who was reading the influx of data coming in regarding damage to their ship's shields over the last several seconds. "Approximately five minutes of shields remaining if they concentrate fire on us, hulls may last another minute if we're generous."

She breathed a slight sigh of relief, she'd bargained with fate for one full minute of shield time, she could work with five. "This is Trierarch Siari to Dauntless and Ravager, please make adjustments to alter trajectory, once the command vessel has lost shields the Imperial Fist is going to perform a maneuver to extricate ourselves from harm's way, it is at that moment I need you both to move in to take the heat off of us from the Starhawks currently hammering from below, direct all of your fighters at them now if you have not already." She said with a measure of concern. The maneuver in question would be something akin to another jump, but it was going to be hard to pull off in such close proximity to the enemy command vessel. "How long do we have until the Siege Cannons can fire again?" The Zeltron asked, her tone more than a little abrasive as things were starting to come down to the wire. "Less than a minute, ma'am." Her communications officer responded half a breath later, already in constant communication with their firing team. "As soon as the cannons are warm I want that command vessel blown apart, the force should push their ship enough out of our way that we can make our jump - plot a course for another microjump and raise the nose of our ship by six degrees, I want the shot to push them down if we can, make sure we emerge as close as we can from its rear, and I want all hands ready to turn us around when we do."

"And the sky hook?" The Mirialan asked, with a slight hint of exaggerated fear for the Trierarch's response as she was shot a glare in return. "Patch me through to Command." She said with a heavy sigh, waiting for the static to come through that would signify her breakthrough in communication with the rest of the Armada that was certainly now aware of the conflict over Muunilist. "This is Navarch-Princeps Nuos, we read you." Came the distinct, gruff, voice of her direct superior carrying the same disappointed tone he'd always addressed her with whenever she'd made contact in the past. "Task Group Muunilist to Command, I am calling in to report the order for protocol zero on our staging point over Muunilist. We are in the process of routing their fleet, they are attempting to move in to take a strategic position which we will have no further use of if we are to succeed - in much less words, sir, they have everything to lose if we are to deny asset, and we have everything to gain if we do." Melia explained, her pitch raising just a little bit in same unconscious way one generally did when trying to appeal to authority. "Protocol Zero authorized. Casualties?" He asked, sounding more curious, perhaps skeptical, more than anything. "We are going to lose HIMS Red, Black, and Blue, as well as any remaining communication officers present on the sky hook, sir."

"Very well. Will you require further assistance?" He asked, to which she visibly furrowed her brow in concern. "I will make another call if it comes to that, sir. There was no intelligence of this attack, but we appear to be handling ourselves according to protocol." She replied. "Good. Command Out." Nuos responded as the line was cut, her attention now back to the task at hand.

-

To say that the task she'd been given was titanic was an understatement - sure, they had twenty some-odd squadrons of Sith-Imperial Strike fighters on hand, and sure they were perhaps among the best and brightest that the Empire had to offer, but they were talking about two battlecruisers here, massive ships with fighters of their own, fighters that were to be added to a number of other starfighters already being dealt with by the forces under her control. Out of her viewport she could see the massive screen of fighters emerging from the Imperial ships like locusts heading towards crops - if one could use such an analogy for the Alliance ships Melia had pushed against - after the call had ended with the Trierarch, and for a moment she wished that she wasn't in the position she was - which was what, exactly? Sacrificial lamb? She knew Melia was about as clinical as they came, but she'd expected a bit more support than three corvettes - there was a slim chance those ships would even survive ten minutes, though they were certainly more agile than the battlecruisers they would be up against.

And did she hear protocol zero?

"Ladies and gentlemen we've had it easy up until now, this is where we face the grim reality of the expendable nature of our jobs. It has been an honor leading you, but many of us may not make it out of here alive - few, in fact, if the odds are as low as I think they are." Came the voice of the Mirialan Castrensae over the shared communications between Sith fighters, no longer in the cocky mood she'd been in less than five minutes ago. "Guerrilla tactics from now on, hit every point you can at every opportunity. Imperial victory is on the line, and it will be our names in the history books if we succeed." Oloro said as she pulled up on her craft, firing a stream of laser fire into a Y-wing that had tried to fly past her, avoiding reciprocated fire from an X-win at the same time.


"This is Castrensae Oloro out - may the force have mercy on us all."
 
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Location: Mygeeto, Bridge One
Objective: Hold the Line
Allies: TSE and Allies
Enemies: NIO and Allies
Tags: Cameron Farwell

Those cold eyes glared. And her blade was lowered down to the frozen ground: burning a hole with it's very presence. There was a tint of sorrow within her dead heart, for however brief. For so many things, to Thustra trapped under it's Jedi conquerors. For this moronic war, brought upon by arrogant fools that thought they understood this Galaxy. To the cold truth of the Galaxy resonating ever deeper in her soul: peace, was nothing. It did not last long, and her still body revealed none of her musings. But such things never did last particularly long with Lirka, sorrow turned to hate, and hate turned to rage. Pure, unfiltered, rage.

She exploded, throwing her arms to the air and turning to face her warriors: entirely uncaring of the enemy that faced her back. And she shouted, oh did she shout. All that smoldering hatred coming to life in a blazing inferno of knife-like words: she had no care of killing these men, they were going to destroy the bridge anyway. Let them shiver and freeze like the weak mortals they were.


"Do you see!? Do you understand now!? That these dogs, dared to even once call themselves Imperial! They are petty, disgusting maggots! Not even worthy of the Tibanna that will be spent to annihilate their pathetic army! They fuel this petty conflict, crying out to the evils of the Sith like children! Leaving the JEDI menace unmolested! Letting them fester like the Galactic tumor they are! Show this trash the might of the Empire! CRUSH, THEM, ALL!"

Letting loose her final cry of hatred to the air, Lirka stormed back to the battlelines. Listening with sweet delight as they began to engage the Sithspawn dirt beginning to converge upon them. She gave herself a quick glance to the fiery image of the gunship that was barreling towards their position. She raised a hand, flicking on her comms to speak to Command.

"This is Ka. Detonate my Bridge, I am done with this Traitor trash."
 
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Location: Bridge A breeching outer Sith Trenches
Objective: Create a diversion, cause a path of chaos through the Sith Trenches
Allies: New Imperial Order
Enemies: Sith, Darth Ophidia Darth Ophidia




Kyrel remained with his tired and battered men. Out in the middle of No Man's Land, his saber staff at the ready constantly blocking back blaster bolts that the Sith Troopers were constantly sending his way. Even as he fought tired and fatigued throughout the fight he was determined to still make the charge towards the enemy. Both he and his men letting out a vicious war cry as they mustered the courage to charge through No Man's Land. Even as the men around him started to die one by one, until there was only a few with him by the time that he himself had made it to the Sith's opening defenses, quickly impaling several men with his saberstaff. The screams and cries that were heard were the same familiar song of war he had heard time and time again.

Nothing, in fact, brought him any more joy than to be within the thick of battle. Jumping into a trench and kicking down a Sith soldier while he impaled one behind with the other end of his other saberstaff. A certain type of ferocity had gripped the group as the battle quickly devolved from blasters against blasters, to now more of a hand to hand combat with Vibroblades and Stun Batons. Such brutal savagery being seen on both sides as if each side wanted to tear each other to pieces limb by limb.

Kyrel even as fatigued as he was, was moved by the power of the dark side. Ever since his first days as a Disciple of Ren. It has always kept him alive. The dark side was the dark passenger that gave him life, and he was it's vessel channeling everything it had to offer. Even the saber that he wielded at this moment cutting through a slow and drawn out bloody swathe through the trench. Fed his blazing fury. His teeth gritted, underneath his mask was an angry scowl that adorned his face. For the first time in a long time he was finally taking his hatred of the Sith into action. No longer siding with them, no longer being tolerant of them. He was the Master of the Knights of Ren. The last Ren, the last evolutionary step of the dark side now slowly making a stand that would be worth remembering.

His arms moved in long strokes of his blade, men coming from both behind and forward met the fiery wrath of his harbinger. The blades fueled by the dark side relentlessly cutting through it's Master's adversaries in quick and painful movements. All the while Kyrel was slowly accepting his fate, a fate that perhaps this would be a one-way trip. That the Knight of Ren the last enforcer of Sieger Ren would meet his end in a world of ice, just as it had once begun on a world of fire. To him it almost sounded poetic that this tale should end this way. The Knights of Ren ending in a final stand against the Sith.

A small smirk came to his face thinking of it. Even wondering of what should happen should he die. Will his name be remembered, would his legacy just be the boot of the Sith stamping on the will of the galaxy forever An epitome of a failed religion, of a failed belief in the Force supplanted by the Sith in the end. He did not know, and even now he couldn't focus on such things. Not when everyone was making a final push to make a stand. To make a difference to show that it need not be Jedi that can stand against the Sith alone. But unlikely heroes and alliances all in agreement that Carnifex's time is slowly coming to an end.

Slowly pushing through waves after waves of enemies, the familiar sense of dread did not falter. It did not stop constantly haunting him. Letting out his own dark aura in the Force. As if a beacon. He was tired of war, tired of fighting any longer. Whoever sought to meet him out. He gladly welcomes it and what his fate should entail. He echoed through the force slowly being pushed back by waves and waves of SIth Troops joining the trench. "Come face me Coward." Offering his speculative foe a chance to reveal his or herself. Never being one to grow excited from cloak and dagger tactics. He rather meet his end as he always had lived in life, as a warrior of the dark side.
 
Harnaidan.
ENEMIES: TSE.
ALIES: Belisarius Belisarius (RIP?), NIO.
WEAPONRY: (01) Mandalorian armor fully made of bes'kar. (Equipped with: Jetpack with two individual thrusters, one wrist rocket launchers, two cortosis gauntlets, two gauntlet dartcaster, two crushgaunts, two wrist mounted retractable vibroblades), one Legacy System Beskar'gam and two wrist flamethrowers, (01) Pair of R82 jump boots, 01) Utility Belt (Two thermal detonators, one grappling spike launcher, one holoprojector, one aqua breather, one comlink, one energy ration, two hand granades, (01) Osseus Class ExoSkeleton, (02) HG-54 "The Vora" Class Verpine Hand Cannon, (01) Mandalarms SR-100 Autocannon, (01) personal gun (RIP), (01) Basilisk War Droid.

She threw herself behind the speeder in search of shelter from enemy fire, almost immediately when an friendly soldier fell, his chest pierced by a dozen blaster marks still smoldering. Ursula couldn't help looking at his dented helmet where she had punched him earlier when he shook her to wake up. Others would have dropped her there on the battlefield floor, but he had stayed, or perhaps forced his entire group to stay with him, and seeing that guy lying there beside him, Ursula couldn't help feeling horrible about it and in some place, some dark place in the corner of her mind, she heard the voice speaking to her again.


“Another dead.”, The mandalorian stretched her metallic arm forward, closing her stiff fingers around her beskar’gam’s helmet, placing it beside her. She tried to reach into the soldier's armor, reaching for his ID card, taking it for herself and keeping it inside his armor. Bending forward again as she began the long work to dissemble her own gun so she could replace the power cell, muttering to herself.

"Maybe he is another dead man ... but this one I won't forget!", She almost snarled, noticing small wet drops falling over her gun. Falling over that beautiful treasure left by her by an old friend and rival, Kaine, not that she cared enough for him to cry, or maybe she was, but she was also very fond of her weapon. Something much bigger than some could understand. "I'm sorry.", She said, pulling the handgun from the holster on her waist after inserting the battery, firing once at the power cell of her weapon before throwing it with all the strength of her cyber arm over the speeder, farther than three lines and rows of enemies.

The gun sparked when it was dropped and almost hit an enemy soldier. Sitting on the floor, she continued to gesticulate her lips counting backwards, remembering what Kaine had told her years ago about what would happen if damage was done to the power cell made with the tiny amount of Isotope-5 he had used.

“Boom.”, She murmured without any flavor in that word, followed by a catastrophic explosion behind the speeder, so loud that it dragged the car away, shattered building glass around the area and probably left some allies almost deaf, but treated for turn those enemy lines that she faced into nothing. "Boom ..." she said again, taking a deep breath as the Allied soldiers hurled away by the explosion rose from the ground. Ursula shook her head at herself, almost as a gesture that she should move on, adorning her head with her beskar'gam's helmet and calling out loud. "Oy, dummy..."


MISTRESS! I am so happy that I am well, I was almost taking my circuits of concern, but then I remembered that I have no hands for that.”
“I need another gun... fast.”
, She said ignoring the AI completely.

“Sending that poor excuse for Flying Armory to your location.”, Ursula raised from the ground to look upon her work. At least for half a kilometer there was no living soul besides the speeder, the brute strength of the deregulated arm was something really useful at a time like this where she needed to throw something at a distance. Ursula turned to the group of soldiers she had asked her to protect.

"I apologize for what happened earlier.", and almost immediately one of them taking care of the wounded turned on her very upset.
"Apologies? You almost killed us!”, The officer in charge touched his arm and asked him to walk away.
“It was a dirty blow with your gun. Turning it into a bomb and throwing it at them, I shouldn't say I agree, but I appreciate it.”, He nodded at the mandalorian and she waved back at him too. Together they all turned to the sky, noticing the approach of the Basilisk Droid from earlier, it landed next to its owner, she stroked it between the ears, causing it to open its weapon compartments so that it could take something from there.

"Hey, war boys!", She said as she tried to pull something out of the machine, hearing it almost moan as she did it with her foot resting on its side. “Take… the road and go to the point designated by land… I… will… by… aaaairrrr!”, She snarled the last word, pulling from her machine the huge relic of her house,
Ret'ini, smiling under his helmet, Ursula mounted the Basilisk War Droid, hitting his heels on his side and making him take off into the sky.
“Oy! I send… ”, the officer called,“Beware there is a huge tank that way, you can’t just fly straight to it.”

"Relax, war boy! All part of the plan I just made up!",
She stated going up to the skies and as she walked away Ursula howled. “See you there!”, And flew away at full speed in that direction. There was little strength to worry about on the way there, especially after what she had done with her precious toy, on the way Ursula remained silent and thoughtful, while in her ears she heard sign readings, voices speaking through the nearby comlinks and a melody boring that most belonged to an elevator.

"Mistress, you are approaching the target.", And even before the AI spoke in her ear, Ursula saw the huge weapon standing at the top of the plateau and all the sanity she had managed to bring up with the small attack she had had fell apart. She started laughing out loud, a laugh that found no end to it, as she continued to kick her pet with her heels to go faster in that direction. Activating the loudspeakers on his basilisk droid, Ursula howled into the tank, firing into the sky.

"SURRENDER NOW AND I WILL SPARE MOST OF YOU… I'll give you to the count of - time's up!", And so she and Basilisk Droid started the shooting and soon Ursula realized how difficult it was to let that monstrosity shoot while she it was swung from side to side over your pet, the problem was maintaining balance while both were shooting at the cannon. The firing of his weapon was more than enough to do the damage, but Ursula wanted to vent her anger and see the soldiers around aiming their weapons at them and being pierced by Sheershoy's cannons and her beautiful mandalorian machine was priceless. “Hey, Sith boys, duck! I said duck! Oh, never mind, that won’t help anyway.”, She spoke shortly before bursting out laughing on top of the droid seeing the gun being pierced and sparking, something that could only mean one for her: boom.
 
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Major Faction

Ryv

Become One With All Things
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// SWORD OF THE JEDI // FOCUSED CRUSADER //
//
MUUNILIST // HARNAIDAN //
//
SURVIVE EPIC DUEL ACROSS THE CITY // BREAK SHIT //
// GEAR // BLADE OF RUUSAN // DRIP // ASPIS //
//
ALLIES // Lucien Dooku Lucien Dooku // Dorian Sicarrio Dorian Sicarrio
//
ENEMIES // Lord Venari Lord Venari // Leon Amun Leon Amun // Vallaro Kindall Vallaro Kindall
//
BOND // Allyson Locke Allyson Locke





War bred darkness most heinous and cruel. Muunilist hung heavy with the influence of the shadows, somewhat clouding Ryv's vision through the force as only such bloodshed could. He'd seen the familiar grip of the dark side clutching tight on Muunilist, not all that different from the events of Kintan. Yet, piercing the murk felt difficult. So much so, Venari's presence almost went entirely unnoticed by the Jedi Knight. Had the Sith Lord not taken the opportunity to announce his presence, Ryv would've likely relied on Lucien in full, as the other Jedi had much more experience in dealings with the dark side. The Kiffar silently thanked his luck, and Venari's arrogance, before turning to face his opponents once more. His amber gaze flickered over the shield briefly, resulting in a frown as Ryv noticed the sparking metals from beneath some of the melted metal. A quick inspection revealed the shield lacked its ability to retract and return via its integrated repulsion generator.
"Oh, that's great," Ryv grumbled to himself, somewhat thankful the plasmatic edging remained intact. "What is this dude going on about? Our epitaph? Final tome? Does he mean tomb?" he cast a glance towards the now burning persona of Lucien Dooku, wreathed in an inner flame the Kiffar couldn't say he had encountered before. Feeling Lucien's intent through their meld, Ryv looked up at the duo of the Sith Lord and his Bounty Hunter. The Paragon knew his more care-free approach would only slow down the Prodigal Knight and endanger them both. Ryv's attention snapped back to the surge of lightning cascading down upon them, the Kiffar's perception slowing as Ryv's senses heightened, a great calm falling over him. He surged forward once again, throwing both hands out towards the oncoming threats, favoring the Force over his malfunctioning shield.
A force barrier, visually similar to a stasis field, hummed into existence between the storm of dark side power and the two Jedi. Ryv steadied his stance, eyes narrowing as he dug deep to lock the Sith Lord's power back behind the wall. He grits his teeth, sliding a few inches back as the continuous power parted around the barrier, squeezing their momentary sanctuary like a giant's meaty paw. The shiva dagger embedded into the barricade, sending a visible crack through the transparent defensive. Including the added impacts from each slug round and the continued pressure from the lightning storm saw a dozen fissures spreading up the Force barrier. Ryv knew he couldn't maintain the wall much longer, but the sight of the oncoming grenade thrown out sparked an idea. Lucien would feel the intent behind Ryv's sudden realization before the Jedi could say anything, highlighting the strength of the force meld.
"You're," Ryv began, forcing out each word as his body strained to maintain the failing barrier a few seconds longer. "Up next," the Kiffar finished before taking a deep breath and dropping to a knee. He awaited Lucien's own exertion of will upon the Force before dropping the barrier entirely. Feeling the brief reprieve offered by his partner, Ryv pushed forward once more, empowering Lucien's telekinetic wave with the energy he could muster, further supporting the Exiled Prince. Ryv proved not so different than the armament decorating his forearm, serving his companion faithfully, as only a shield could.
 
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Silence fell upon Lucien as the second slowed to a crawl during the lull in the running and fighting that had encompassed their battle so far. From deep within his core the simmering fire that was his true spirit surged up to the surface in preparation for the next bout to come. Even as Ryv's words exited the Jedi's lips from such a close distance, his gazed forwards with a laser focus down the path he presumed his enemies would take. A thousand-yard stare remained locked forwards, the surrounding ambiance of the battlefield coalescing with Ryv's words up until the moment Venari made his presence known. Ears perked up along with a slight tilt of the head as he shifted blue-grey irises onto the Sith Lord in front of him. He remained speechless, even as the Sith made a play at toying with the Jedi's emotions, perhaps hoping to catch them off-balance considering the defensive they had been forced on for much of the battle's duration.

Venari received nothing more than a blink of the eyes from the silent Jedi; the energy welling up within him seemed to exude from his pores with a familiar mixture of anger and desire to kill one's enemies that the Sith would find familiar within himself-- to a degree, at least. For the feelings that were being emanated from the rogue Jedi were not as true to the dark-side as one might've expected. They were natural feelings, after all; the always-present duality he held within the force had been furthered tempered for moments like these, when all the odds seemed stacked against his favor and the time to let loose both sides of his sense-of-being were needed to be done. In those rare moments when all his cards were required to be on the table, Lucien didn't feel the guilt that would overcome one such as his comrade Ryv, perhaps, although he couldn't speak for the man's character aside from being a true-to-the-music Jedi.

He relished the opportunities to put everything he had on the line, to not hold himself back and simply focus on what was truly important in that moment. He wanted to win, to survive to see the next day so the people locked away in the recesses of his mind could find him in the future, alive. If that required his emotions, no, who he truly was at heart to be unleashed, then screw it, he thought.


"This is personal."

Even as a torrent of lightning cascading across the room, and the tendrils of the force-created attack collided against the force barrier erected in their defense by his comrade-in-arms Ryv, Lucien stood tall and to the front of his comrade, the black hilt of his activated weapon lazily hanging off to his side, the tip of the blade smoldering against the duracrete floor beneath it. Through the meld formed between the two Jedi earlier, Luc felt his partner being overwhelmed once more by the combined attacks directed at them from the Sith Lord and his underling with a penchant fore firearms and jetpacks. Cracks emerged within the barrier as the mixture of lightning and kinetic damage pounded against it with increasing efficiency, yet Lucien remained as still as a statue, the only movement coming from him being the subtle shift in his eyes as they danced between the two Sith-aligned combatants.

A grenade came up next, and with it the appearance of Ryv's train of thought weaving its way into his mind from the meld. The cracks within the barrier had eroded its stability against something as powerful as a grenade, and he knew just as well as his partner that the time for being on the defensive was over. "You're up next." The words, though audible, resonated within his mind through the meld that temporarily bonded their thoughts together. "Of course." Lucien casually replied, albeit not verbally, and with a sureness to his tone that would've implied that the impassively-faced Jedi was both confident and smiling all the same.

His body bent slightly at the knees as the words exited his thoughts and reached Ryv, who was positioned slightly behind him. The force amalgamated throughout his limbs as he kicked off his feet, his eyes having settled upon Vallaro. Lucien bolted across the floor in one fluid motion, the mixture of the force and the Jaeger-tech Combat Boots on his feet allowing him to glide across the ground with speeds that were unnaturally achievable without other means of assistance. He swiveled his sight mid-dash, utilizing the moment to set his eyes upon the grenade while his free hand extended towards it before the timer had reached its conclusion. With the upwards wave of his finger towards the air, the grenade changed its trajectory towards the ceiling above them, the impending explosion instead would shatter the glass mounted on the ceiling above the heads of everyone present, the web of electrified duracord extending from the sphere being caught amongst the support beams that held the massive panes in place.

The hand retracted back to his body as soon as the grenade made its change of course, his eyes shifting back to the bounty hunter who'd been taking pot-shots at the two since the battle's inception. His hand curled into a fist as it settled itself near his side, only to be jabbed forwards at the man violently in mid-air. A wave of energy emanated from his fist as dust particles trailed the edge of the attack's silhouette, which was simply a potent wave of telekinetic force that was aimed at breaking the bounty hunter's momentum-- violently, if possible.

The dash came to a halt the moment the wave was unleashed forth at the man, his dominant foot digging onto the duracrete with his heel as he pivoted on the spot before his hind-foot could touch the ground. The instant his back foot touched the floor, his gaze shifted onto the Sith Lord, Venari, himself. Once more he propelled forwards, his body and form low to the ground as he almost glided across the floor to those without the ability to perceive past the constraints of the naked eye. He touched off the ground with his front foot several feet before reaching the man, twisting on the ball of his foot and sending his low-to-the-ground form into a circle before his opponent. Fluidly he lunged forwards into the air once his body had reached the impetus of the spin, both hands moving to grasp the hilt of the aqua-blue blade a moment before he brought the weapon diagonally across his left, delivering behind the blow both the force behind his momentum, and the amalgamation of emotion that was up until that point, thoroughly suppressed.

In that instance Venari would be privy to a rare sight; perhaps not important in the grand scheme of the battle, but nonetheless it was a stark contrast to the stone-faced Jedi that was presented to them before. As the blade was brought down to quite literally cleave the man in half if possible, the familiar sign of a smirk once again had found its way onto his lips. His eyes lit up with excitement, his soul no longer the smoldering flame that it once had been abated to for oh so long before his confrontation with The Sith Lord, Venari. Nothing mattered to him in that moment of excitement, or was it joy that he was feeling? He could never tell, nor did it matter to him either. This was the real him at its best, and at his worst, but in that moment he was simply glad to finally have a worthy opponent to finally bring it out.


 
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//: SIA# 0040 //: LUCKY
//: MISSION //: Ensure complete vision on Harnaidan City; Destroy the Dark Lord of the Sith
//: EQUIPMENT //: Signature, Energy Bow + Arrows, Simple Lightsaber
//: FOCUS //: Wyatt Morga Wyatt Morga Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex
//: BOND //: Ryv Ryv
//: THEME //: Mission first, promises remembered


Confidence wavered when the Dark Lord waved aside the arrows infused with the force light. She could feel through the Force his frustration with her tricks. Although he had deflected her attack, it had given Wyatt a moment to react, she had done something right, and Allyson tried to tell herself this. Was she foolish to think the Emperor would quickly falter against the simple attack? Reaching back, the Corellian drew another arrow in preparation to continue to her attacks. If she could cause some distraction, Wyatt could find an opening. The bow knocked the arrow shaft while Allyson aimed at the temple of the Dark Lord, but something broke her concentration.

Images of the battlefield from across the city flashed into her mind. The ground where the sky should be spinning and spinning, Allyson felt her stomach in knots as she could only imagine what was happening to Ryv. Bow falling to her side as she dropped the arrow and let her mind imagine the worst, she felt his struggle and the chaos around him. Why was she still here? Wyatt was okay with the Dark Lord, and she didn't need to be here to support him. Every fiber of her urged her to find Ryv - find where he was so she could help him. Allyson didn't know what she would do if she lost him, her heart ached as she cursed her mission, taking her to the front, away from him.

Allyson had lost too much up till now, to lose the man she loved - the one that helped her find something new to believe in; it would be too much.

Rubble crunched under her boots as she took steps towards the direction she felt him in. A tear ran down her cheek as she soon felt his force barrier, she felt the onslaught it was protecting him from, and she began to break. "Ryv. You promised." Allyson spoke to no one in particular, but she had to remind him. Her words were needed to tell the Jedi Knight of his promise to come home. The commitment to return home to her and their life together. A promise they both made to each other.

Reality settled in as the flash of red crimson appeared in the corner of her eye. The world that had felt still soon came to life as the Force pushed the Jedi Master from her mind. As a deadly blade saw, the double saber spun towards Allyson, she didn't have much time to react, but the bow and her power armor came up to protect her as the power behind the throw took her off balance. The heat of the ion blade burned and scorched against her forearm while burning through the energy bow, severing it in half. Gathering the strength, Allyson shoved off the attack and drew her saber. Feeling the force flow through her body and the armor, the Master quickly cut the distance between her and the two men dueling. As she sprinted forward, her hand opened, drawing the discarded arrow from the ground. It flew to her open hand, and suddenly began to glow a faint yellow, remnants of the suns of Tatooine.

Allyson felt the blade coming up to flank her from the rear, and the weapon acted as if it was aware and loyal to its Master. As it drew closer, the Jedi expelled the Force outward, pushing the blade away, keeping her safe as the glow of the brilliant blew blade crossed the back of the Dark Lord. The Force fueling her body, she slashed from shoulder to hip along his back and followed with a downward stab of the explosive tipped arrow, which hummed with the light side of the Force. While attacked Allyson could feel the light side pulsing from one of her most prized possessions. It had been a gift to her from her dearest friend Jyoti Nooran Jyoti Nooran when the Corellian sought out the Dark Lord, it was meant to protect her and to remind her that the Light Side of the Force was always there with her. Being in close proximity, the Dark Lord would easily feel how bright the light side shined within the Corellian Jedi Master, from the dagger she had on her person, and the infused force light arrow. Feeling Wyatt tap into something darker, Allyson hoped that her presence within the Light helped bring him a quiet peace as he pushed forward.

As much as she wanted to run to his side, they were both Jedi. Their duties came first, above all else. There was a bigger picture before them, and they played a part to ensure the future they dreamed would come true. As Allyson reminded herself of this mentality, her essence in the Force focused on their bond. Her heart struggled but continued to tell them of the promises they shared - They always return home, return to the other, and fight for their future—the future of all Jedi and what is right in the Galaxy.
 
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Location: SIBC Headquarters (SIBC-VT), VAULT COMPLEX, Southern Mesas, Mygeeto
Allies: TSE - Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Darth Argentum Darth Argentum | Obinmiux R'avfa Obinmiux R'avfa
Enemies: NIO - Gat Tambor Gat Tambor | Avernus Avernus
Objective: Ensure the bridges are brought down.


One by one, the confirmation from units and individual commanders came in, including, Madelyn noted with relief, from Raaf. Madelyn read over each of them silently as they appeared on the holoscreen, occasionally pausing to pass along instructions to the various personnel staffing the command centre. She looked up, lips pursed, as the display panned across the Southern Mesas, the large screen casting blue light in the signals officers, commanders and intelligence personnel speaking into their commlinks, directing the battle that was unfolding outside. Each of them was running on only a few hours of sleep, each painfully aware that those two two bridges, and the thin line of Legionnaires blocking them, were the only thing between the enemy armies and their command centre.

Beside her, Tithe mentioned an alert about the turbolift, and Madelyn flicked quickly to the alert to confirm it, frowning slightly as he elected himself to go and see to the problem, more than a little concerned at the man's naivety. As he trailed out the door, she waved over one of the site's Station Chiefs, speaking to him quietly.

"Seal the command centre until Tithe or Dansk returns, and have the Legion escorts update me on their status every 5 minutes." The man nodded curtly in response, and Madelyn returned her attention back to the display with a sigh. With the Muun rushing off and now Tithe scurrying away to some corner of the facility, Madelyn couldn't help but feel something was deeply amiss. Whatever was happening out there, the command centre had to stay in operation. The siege was delicately balanced, after all. Any slight disruption could, in turn, send their whole defence tumbling down. That could not be allowed to happen.

A priority message flashed across the screen, and Madelyn winced as the room was filled with the snarling voice of the recently promoted Moff Lirka Ka. She raised an eyebrow and collected herself, then keyed the comm to reply.


"Ka, this is Lowe. The Legion team assigned to your bridge is lagging behind. You may need to clear the way in order to bring it down more quickly."

A delicate tap with her finger disconnected her from the monstrous Moff, and she panned her eyes from the Chaos on the second bridge. Fighting was fierce along its length, the arrival of the cyclone having blurred the lines separating Legionnaires from Stormtroopers, resulting is messy pockets of combat all across the bridge. Thankfully, one of the last operational armoured detachments was about to arrive to escort and deliver the charges, which meant that if everything went to plan, Bridge 2 would be down in a matter of minutes.

As for Bridge 1, that depended on whether or not Raaf and Ka could break the NIMYG lines. Looking at the display, Madelyn watched the burning gunship falling to the ground, glad she was far away from the unfolding chaos outside, secure within the SIBC Vaults.
 
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Location: SIBC Vault Tower, Southern Mesa, Mygeeto
Objective: Battle in the Frost Cyclone
Kit: Skystas Rieve iv Tave Daboti Dvasi | SI-HB-2 Power Mace w/ AvXRD Melee Weapon Assist | SIF-57 Personal Sidearm | Sith-Imperial Military Uniform
Allies: Madelyn Lowe Madelyn Lowe | Darth Argentum Darth Argentum | Obinmiux R'avfa Obinmiux R'avfa | TSE
Enemies: Gat Tambor Gat Tambor | Avernus Avernus | NIO
Post: V


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Much love to Republic Engineering Republic Engineering for the banner.​


A cacophony is blaster bolts, screams and whirling lightsabers followed Aerarii as he retreated down the hallways of the SIBC underground complex. He didn’t need to watch the carnage unfolding to know that all his escorts were dead; the silence over the comlink was enough. If he was to escape with his life it would need to be by his own doing.

He rounded a corner and found himself confronted with a heavy vault door. Fumbling, he withdrew his code cylinder and tapped it against the data port, drawing an error response from the console. He slapped his hand on the palm reader and was given the same error alert as reward. Stepping back, he lashed out and kicked the door, which did not cause an error alert but possibly broke one of his toes.

Cursing to himself, the Moff looked back down the hallway. A rhythmic thudding grew louder and louder as his adversary approached. No. This wasn’t how this was meant to end. He had spent years building his profile and power base within the Sith Empire, steadily climbing the ranks of the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan and the bureaucracy. He had been destined for greatness, not to die alone at the hands of industrialist who had aligned himself with a traitorous collective. How had Tithe not seen this coming, how has his carefully planning not accounted for this?

Gat Tambor Gat Tambor rounded the corner and presented him fearsome armour-encased visage.

Tithe raised his SIF-57 Personal Sidearm and fired three shots in quick succession. The first two went wide and struck the wall, with the third pinging harmlessly off whatever mechanical monstrosity the Skakoan was wearing. He depressed the trigger again… and nothing happened. Shock flooded over the bureaucrats face.

A competent soldier would have noticed the small indicator light and replaced the faulty power pack to continue the fight. Aerarii was not a competent solider. In desperation he threw the useless blaster at Tambor.

He was running out of options.

“I, I, I know you bankrolled the New Imperials,” he blurted out. Tithe had held onto this information for some time now, hoping to disclose it in exchange for personal gain. Buying time to figure out a plan to survive the next few minutes was about as much as he could hope for given the circumstances. The markets were not in his favour.

As he spoke the Moff slowly backed toward the vault door. He heard a heavy thud just as he was about to reach it. He reached down and unclipped the SI-HB-2 Power Mace from his belt, having forgotten he was carrying the weapon. With a double handed grip he raised the bludgeoning weapon up to a ready position and activated the it, then clicked a second smaller trigger linked to the AvXRD 'Ripper' 3.0 Artificial Intelligence Melee Weapon Assist.

A soft hum filled the hallway. Tithe swung the mace experimentally, feeling the Ripper AI making small adjustments to his swing via tiny repulsolifts. He had purchased one of the first units off the production line knowing that one day it may save his life. Time to see if it had been a good investment.

“This isn’t a transaction worth making,” he called to Tambor, feinting courage when he had none. “We can forget this parlay and go our seperate ways.”
 
Objective: Defend the Muunilist capital city of Harnaidan
Allies: Vallaro Kindall Vallaro Kindall Leon Amun Leon Amun TSE & Allies
Enemies: Ryv Ryv Lucien Dooku Lucien Dooku Dorian Sicarrio Dorian Sicarrio NIO, GA & Allies
Equipment: In Bio
Theme


The floodgates had been opened, the tower engrossed by the myriad emotions of war. Rage, hope, hunger - there was so much hunger. Venari stood above as an apex predator with narrow focused eyes staring down its prey. He was as a precipice to the concentrated powers of the dark side. Whatever trifling nonsense the dual motes of light below had been babbling on about mattered not anymore. All that mattered was the hunt. The kill. Anticipation wetted the Sith Lord's appetite and there would be no more delay, a starving maw was ready to sink its teeth into the meal. The lead Jedi's weakening force barrier signaled the beginning of the end. The pests were cornered. Vallaro descended into the depths of battle, embracing chaos as the home in which he'd been birthed. Little concern needed to be spared for the hunter. He had quelled more than his fair share of force wielders including the apostate's own- few tools in the Jedi's arsenal could deny the wolf his quarry.

For the shortest of moments only the lingering muted hums of the many Sith and Jedi weapons occupied the expanse between the two opposing forces. Oh what music they'd make together, an orchestra playing the briefest of beautiful symphonies only to fall silent a moment thereafter. The second of the Jedi stood firm in the face of their impending deaths, gathering strength as Ryv recuperated from the dark downpour. Would he be the first of the Jedi to play? The first course meal of the day? Venari was entranced by the possibilities. So as long as the cat and mouse games could be left behind them, he was more than content battling either, or both.

"Come on, come on, come and get me," the Sith Lord whispered under his helmet.

As if commanded by his very whim the second of the Jedi bolted along the lower level. The hyrda grenade primed for their first move rocketed skyward, its duracord web tangling within the tower's infrastructure and shattering the transparent ceiling. Glass shards rained down from the building's peak only to be seized by the whip of Venari's left hand. Under the power of his telekinetic grasp the shattered glass swirled and formed into a whirlwind. Swiping his left arm toward the lower level the razor storm barreled toward Ryv. To toy with the more boisterous of the two would have been a delight but alas the stoic of their duet had beamed into the offensive. While Venari could no longer see Vallaro, the hunter's bloodlust had not been quelled. Rather, its storm had only swelled to greater magnitudes. The dark sadist would be allowed to play his game unhindered still.

A moment later Lucien's visage had become clear with a surge of unbridled joy. A palpable tinge whirled in the space between them, one all too familiar to the Sith. As the Jedi lunged to deliver his soaring blow, Venari leaned ahead with one foot planted behind the other bracing for the impact. The Sith Lord's personal lightsaber sprung to life, its crimson blade radiating sinister light across his form. He flourished his weapon then struck against Lucien's glowing blade. The reverberating force coursed through the saber lock and dragged the Sith Lord back, his armored boots scraping against the duracrete floor until the momentum died. With the blades locked in place sparks began to spur away from the point of contact while Venari peered through Lucien's very being.

Any facade of a true Jedi's nature had been cast aside. Whatever had come to challenge the dark calamity was growing drunk with the conflict. A system that inhaled battle and exhaled joy. Its eyes begging for the horrors of war. Begging, for the dark side.

"I can see it in you, Jedi. The dark side has taken root. You can masquerade as one of them, play paragon of virtue and hero of hope but at the end of the day you will give the dark side its due!" The Sith Lord snarled.

Together, his Katak crystal and holocron defense system hissed to life once more and in tandem began their attempt to tether to the rogue Jedi and drain him of his strength. Three floating sabers joined the assault and struck from behind, one above, one at the mid of his back and one low. Meanwhile, Venari tightened his grip and pushed forward parrying his enemy's blade aside. The hunger within was deep now. It coursed through his veins demanding to be satiated and the Sith Lord was all too happy to oblige. While the floating arsenal continued with the dancing flurry Venari let loose another bolt of lightning then swept in from behind it.

"More, summon more. You'll need more than the thrill of battle if you or any of your friends wish to see home!"
He roared, raising his blade overhead, then dropped the Falling Avalanche onto Lucien. The rogue would fall, or he would die.
 
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