Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython

"Do I know you?" She spared the boy a curious glance at the sound of her own name. He didn't strike her as familiar. All humans look the same sometimes.

Distractions were once again forced aside, however, as Surea put her latest trick on display: A crimson haze pollinated the air, expelled towards the pair of Jedi. Amani was quick to recognize the potential danger, "Don't breathe it in! Whatever she has, it's viral." She pressed her collar over her nose and mouth, unaware that she had already inhaled some of the spores.

Amani let her own connection to the Force gather. No longer was she bound by the constraints of her own mind. She was one with the Force, and that oneness was only further legitimized by the familiar, almost nostalgic bond of her homeworld. It was a harmony she had not felt since her days as a Jedi. The Force surrounded her, then bellowed outward in the Sith's direction; A righteous contrast to her own demonstration of power.

 

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I N Q U I S I T O R
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NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SOMEWHERE | TYTHON
ALLIES: Aoki-Barran Mira Aoki-Barran Mira | NIO | Whoever bloody else (I ain't tagging all you fools)
ENEMIES: BOTM | NSO | GA | Y'all too many - suffer without tags.
ENGAGING: Nyaeli Nyaeli
GEAR: Armour | Lightsaber | Pistol |Vibroblade | Vibroknife | Grenade loadout
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HIGHER

The way was barred.

More and more Raiders emerged and all seemed to swarm towards her. Mira had her own hands full, but the bulk of the forces converged around Raina and it became increasingly harder to keep them at bay.

She would have to dig deep.

For now, the balls of searing light was enough while some others fell at the stroke of the argent blade, but she was driven further and further into a sort of corner within the valley as the cliff walls started looming ever closer towards her back.

The danger was becoming more and more real the closer the beings got to her.
"Mira! Get out of here! I'll find you after!" she called with another flash of silver-white, slicing at a Raider. The future of the Empire depended on the survival of the next generation of soldiers and Knights. Order within the Galaxy depended on it.

Aside from duty, she needed her Squire to get off Tython alive, as the girl and her strange customs had crept into Raina's heart in the strangest of ways. Mira was as tied to the idea of family, with her clinging to her deceased father's sword like a lifeline, as Raina was tied to her own family.

They had found balance together in the strangest of ways.


 
A field on Tython
Tags: Surea Surea Amani Serys Amani Serys

Amani’s warning came seconds too late, as Kai got a face full of rot spores. He covered his mouth with the collar of his shirt. If he’d been more used to being human, he might’ve thought to wear a helmet or at least bring a mask, but he was still thinking like a Doppelganger, as if he were immune to all toxins.

<Yeah! Yeah, I’m Kai Bamarri! I caught a Sithspawn on Coruscant, and you helped me take it back to my ship!>

He was seized by a coughing fit, then a haze spread over his vision as the hallucinogenic spores took hold. Suddenly Surea was a giant, angry red chicken and Amani was a frog princess, complete with a gold crown on her head and a scepter where her lightsaber pike had been.

Whoa.

<I don’t know what’s going on with you and this crazy chicken lady, but she’s a Sith, and I came here to fight the Sith. So I guess we’re on the same side, right Your Highness?>

Surea screamed, and Amani answered with a blast of telekinetic energy. Meanwhile Kai managed to muster up some Force lightning and attempted to turn Surea into fried chicken.
 
Heart Breaker and Life Taker
AhKkZ0ptBTyC0yi8tL-HzMADOgPJAydNCtQmC29ct_EKVyruzJl0okM1YeATK0-on6r7Nzb5EhZoR01A7s0Wa0dN-aByH99G-5iDG8wu_MzalPkLNi_JAHMliKJAw8Bs2GRgK0sf


Hilal's Exoskeleton Bodysuit

Flying over Tython in her starship, Hilal looked over the battlefield her hands unconsciously stroking the braid that Hex Hex made her after she said her goodbyes. Strands of Hex's blue hair weaved together with Hilal's brown. The young woman's heart continued to thump, it continued to thump loudly ever since she arrived at Tython. To think that she was going to defend the stinking Jedi's homeworld, it was not what Hilal expected but as a Mandalorian must always be prepared for the unforeseen. Life had placed Hilal in strange places, from the fights in Tatooine, Courscant and now trying to save the Galaxy from the dreaded Sith. As a Mandalorian, Hilal should feel excitement and joy for a chance to make her mark on history. Instead, she felt fear and dread.

She hated, Hilal is a warrior with plenty of bounties and battles under her. She was bloodied and bruised the stamps of approval for being a Mandalorian. Yet here she was feeling fear, rage started to boil inside of her but she quickly discarded. "I have a job to do," Hilal whispered. "Get in, kill as many Sith bastards as I can and the frack out."

It's a shame that these stinking Jedi isn't paying the Mandalorians to clean up their mess. The Enclave should've asked for credits, Hilal should've demanded Valery Noble Valery Noble to pay every Mandalorian into battle but for some odd reason they did nothing when the Jedi Master waltzed and it was infuriating to see her people practically kowtow to Valery. "I don't kiss anyone's ass," Hilal said watching DVA approached the drop point. "Right drop me here DVA." Hilal said. "I'm going to use the Tank to clear as many enemies as possible."

DVA turned to Hilal looking fearful, he gave a couple of rapid beeps. "Don't worry," Hilal said smiling. "I'll be fine, I got Armor with me and the Tank should be primed and ready."

Her droid companion stared at Hilal for a few moments before reluctantly chirping at the young woman. "I'm heading out!" Hilal said turning on her heel. "Make sure to gimmie some cover from above!"

SF-3335 SF-3335
 

Vesta

Guest
V



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LocationAkar Kesh, Tython
EnemiesTython Defense | Galactic Alliance , Allyson Locke Allyson Locke , Keiran Varn | Silver Jedi Order | New Imperial Order | Mandalorian Enclave | Eternal Empire
AlliesBrotherhood of the Maw | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren , Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze , Jem Fossk Jem Fossk , Darth Daiara Darth Daiara
EquipmentLightsaber & The Hunger
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'The other side?' She thought after their distance grew. 'If only we could be so blessed.'

There was a pervasive notion among their enemies that the dark side could only exist where there was no light, that it was anathema to their way of life - flowing through the bodies of the Mawite soldiers and into the air around them, circulating towards the ritual propagated by Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , the human sacrifices that they were making of their own people to succeed could have swayed the uninitiated to this line of thinking. The darkness that festered in the hearts of the ones that held so tightly to the light that they literally held it aloft in their hands, however, was the catalyst for enlightenment among the disillusioned. The pinprick of hatred, of jealousy, of regret that crept into the weak-minded defenders of the status quo was far stronger than the purportedly compassionate nature of the fire of light that burned within them.

There wasn't a need for her to see the missile that tore through the air for her throat, she had felt the desire to put her down before the arrow left Allyson Locke Allyson Locke 's fingers - the jaded, craven, desperation to figure out a way to take her out of the picture in order to take what was hers out of envy. "If only you could be so lucky." The words had barely begun to leave her lips before they were drowned out by the air around her whining and screaming out of the stress that the speed at which the Hunger tore through it to collide with the arrow that was little more than a meter away from ripping away her ability to speak. Time had changed all of them, those seven years had driven the spy into the crutch of an old weakness to try to take on enemies that hadn't stayed in stasis for all that time, either. A pinnacle of conservative thought, the light willed its most ardent supporters to use what they knew and make do.

The glow of the arrow as it touched the two-pronged spear faded like a ray of light smothered by clouds.

That meager portion of dark hatred that festered in Allyson's heart, however, was nothing compared to the unimaginable horror that the Sith had been shaped by, the inferno of malignancy and the invidiousness that burned in her soul. Mori's desperation to share her lowest point with the galaxy, to unload the despair and the hopelessness she had spiraled into on those that believed that by simply believing they could just not feel, had grown so great that she would rather die trying than budge an inch to her oppressors - so great that the hunger within her only grew as that despair deepened, devouring the power that propelled the woman's arrow through the amplifier she'd made her spear to be. What pressed against the physical realization of the woman's hunger, then, was only dust.


"Not this time, not again."
 
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LocationAkar Kesh, Tython
EnemiesTython Defense | Galactic Alliance | Silver Jedi Order | New Imperial Order | Mandalorian Enclave | Eternal Empire | Allyson Locke Allyson Locke
AlliesBrotherhood of the Maw | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren , Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze , Jem Fossk Jem Fossk , Darth Daiara Darth Daiara
EquipmentLightsaber & The Hunger
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"You know what you must do, should the time come."

A shaken foundation is all that a crumbling house needs to collapse, and she had just watched the man they called the Sith'ari come face to face with reality with Cotan Sar'andor halting what should have been a lethal blow and his response wasn't nearly the same as what she would have offered if she had been in his position. There was no fury, no sanctimonious display to assert the superiority of his side by any measurable degree of force, only an absolute disregard for the Je'daii that had placed themselves in his way in hopes that his followers would keep Cotan and Asha Vynea occupied in order for his ritual, his play for power, to finally reach fruition. She nodded her head as she took on the role of ardent follower, a true believer, while the corner of her lip slipped into a subtle grin as the pieces on the board slowly began to reveal themselves to her.

There wasn't time for idle chatter or pleasantries to draw attention to her, chaos broke out the moment the Tho Yor and its matching pairs moved towards the skies, and, though it was imperative that Solipsis accomplished the bulk of his ritual, Mori slipped away like a shadow swallowed by the darkness cast over the planet by the floating pyramids which blotted out the light from shining through the clouds. The rest of the Brotherhood had steeled themselves to give it all for the Maw, for Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , but, just as she had left him in his greatest moment of need, any subservience that remained after Bastion had abandoned her with the return of her ambition.

"Don't worry, Solipsis, I know
exactly what I have to do." She said aloud, out of earshot, while she made her way towards the rendezvous she had set with her apprentice, Darth Daiara Darth Daiara . There had been an air of secrecy around the Sith lord, one which had frustrated the younger woman, and the bulk of it had to do with her intentions for Tython - a plan that had been laid out since the moment she had been 'discovered' observing the Maw's Sith'ari after the Brotherhood's victory over the fallen Sith Empire on Ziost. It had been a plan for simple, personal, revenge at first: Kill, embarrass even, the Imperator of the New Imperial Order, destroy the Jedi, and tear apart the Sith that remained from within to sate her desire to get even with the people who contributed to ruining her life. That, however, had changed as she matured, softened, and longed for the life that she had lost, a life that taking the reigns of creation - of reality - would be well within her grasp.

Where she lacked in the support, however, Solipsis had; what was just out of reach because of her solitary nature was now held tightly in the man's grip. The fool thought she trusted him with a future, a past, a reality of his design - but in spite of all of his cunning, all of his plotting and guile, the man never made it clear that he expected that the board they found themselves pieces on had been hers. "I assume the wrappings of nullification resin you're carrying is around my Hunger?" She asked, stepping out from the shadow cast by a large tree towards her apprentice as she stepped off the landing ramp of the transport that had ferried her this close to Akar Kesh. Reaching out with her left hand for the spear, carefully wrapped for her apprentice's safety, she nodded her head in a gesture to the ritual that was taking place some tens of minutes away from the two.

"I'm going to borrow something else from you, too, but I need you to walk with me so I can explain as we get to where we need to be."

The time for the girl to see the cards in her master's hand had finally come, and with it was the tool she'd use to make it happen.




Aradia held out Hunger to her master, secretly relieved she wasn't expected to carry the spear the entire day. There was something unsettling about having to throw your weapon away from you in the heat of a fight. She preferred sabers.

"Master," she greeted, following the cue and walking away from the landing ramp with Vesta. It felt good to finally be able to stretch her legs again. A year on Maena had left her rather pale and frustrated with the insides of her training chamber. Her eyes skimmed the landscape, awed to find the energy of the world had already been brought to its knees.

The invasion had barely begun.

Her vision tore off the figures in the distance, her voice hush as she asked, "What dark magic is that?

Darth Mori Keiran Varn





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SHATTERPOINT

LOCATION: EN ROUTE TO THE RITUAL AT AKAR KESH
POST: #1
OBJECTIVE: BATTLE YOUR WAY THROUGH
EQUIPMENT: SINGLE BLADED AMETHYST LIGHTSABER
ALLIES: JEDI AND ASHLANS
ENEMIES:
Darth Daiara Darth Daiara | Darth Mori



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Dark waves ebbed and flowed through the Force here. But he could sense a conflict. Amidst the bloodshed, terror, fear, hatred, a warming presence penetrated the wall of death and destruction. One that rejuvenated him, as if he had just replenished his energy. It coursed through him, emboldening him as he cut through one Mawite unlucky enough to encounter him. The ultimate test of a Jedi. Not the war raging above his head, or even in front of him. But the dark. To confront it, even embrace it, but not let it confound you, was a real test. And it wasn't as if he did not understand the implications of such. But he wasn't sure if he was ready to take on those implications.

Keiran had not come across anyone to draw his saber before. He had mostly taken on lone Mawites on enroute to the ritual. It emanated energy, like a turbolaser from a warship, or a beacon. Power radiated throughout the embattled surface as Jedi and Sith crossed blades. Red and Blue crashing together in unholy matrimony. Along with the rest of Strike Team Skywalker, Keiran approached Akar Kesh, but had been separated from the rest of his people.

He now found himself wandering the lonely plains in the vein of some lost traveller. It took him back to his lone sojourn across the galaxy to search for new ways of harnessing the Force. Then he had been on his own, with no particular destination. Nowhere he was going. He just
was. Freeing, but, lacking the deep connection that he thought it would have brought him. Sauntering along, he felt a feeling similar to then. Just that this time, the forces of ruin gnawed at that great peace.

Keiran didn't remember how long he'd been walking. A few hours possibly? He was almost wishing that a few Mawite troops would pop out from behind a rock and give him something to do. Then he saw her. Well. He heard her first. Perhaps in his current perplexed, it had give him a plane of connection that he could conduct his listening. Halting quickly, he attempted to get a better "connection" so to speak. Her words were like whispers. Keiran could assume she was talking to someone, conversing with one she called Master.

Then he looked up, and approached them. But his hand did not immediately reach for his lightsaber. He simply waited.








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LocationAkar Kesh, Tython
EnemiesTython Defense | Galactic Alliance | Silver Jedi Order | New Imperial Order | Mandalorian Enclave | Eternal Empire | Allyson Locke Allyson Locke , Keiran Varn
AlliesBrotherhood of the Maw | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren , Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze , Jem Fossk Jem Fossk , Darth Daiara Darth Daiara
EquipmentLightsaber & The Hunger
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The two had only just reunited and were already preparing to split off, though that was according to the plan that had been worked out before hand in Mori's head. She took the spear from the girl, nullification resin wrappings falling away from its haft as she turned towards the path she had came down from. "That, Aradia, is the beginning of the end." She answered, glancing up towards the sky with an expression somewhere between a scowl and concern. "I have to head back, I am.. needed.. for the ritual going on up there." Mori added, turning her head to look back over her shoulder for a moment and make sure her apprentice was keeping up the pace. This wasn't something she wanted her apprentice to see, however, though it didn't seem like she'd have a choice.

"We're going to split up, show me what you've learned by keeping anyone you can from reaching the top and keep them from interrupting me."

She paused, slowing down for a minute or two, and then sighed. "I asked you yesterday if you would be angry with me if I let the unfortunate happen." Mori said, rather matter-of-factly, as if she was about to admit to something. "For my peace of mind keep an eye on the sky, when the time comes you'll understand - get off the planet the moment it does." She nodded her head off to the side, increasing the pace at which she was walking again.

"See you on the other side."

Aradia watched her master go, a bad feeling tingling up her spine.

"See you..." she agreed, the wind stealing the words as the left her lips. So much for filling her in. She scowled and ripped her saber from its belt, pressing onwards through the brutal storm. She could feel the battle of wills raging through the force, and she feel the darkness grow stronger with every acolyte that sacrificed themselves for the cause.

She grimaced and spat dirt from her mouth, unhappy with her assignment. Guard the hills? She could do so much more-

A figure parted through the winds. She stopped short, shock spiking through her. Had he always been there? Her fingers tightened over her hilt as she gave the area a proper scan-- Left. Right. Back to him. Boots, empty hands, dark hair.

Jedi.

Her saber hissed to life, its blue light emanating through the storm. The force gripped the man's shoulder's and tried to pull him in and impale him.

She didn't bother saying a word. Talking to a jedi was a waste of breath.

Keiran Varn
 
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Blackened Valkyrie — The 14th Wife
Factory Judge


Allies: Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex , SF-3335 SF-3335
Enemies: Koda Fett Koda Fett | Tydeus of Tion Tydeus of Tion
Engaging: No one as of yet
Equipment: Silens cursor, Revans Lightsaber
Borrowed Equipment: "Judicator" Adaptive Battle Rifle
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Jeff Williams - Ra'viatah, Osa Manetah

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As she began to move towards the the FOB Teresa took aim as she came low. Crimson blots launched from the rifle for a few seconds suppressing them and making the enemy rank separate. A few of them came into view of a team that had snuck up and in an instant their fates sealed to the earth that would become their graves. Others took aim against her, and without a thought she continued to glide towards them. Dropping the blaster the saber flew from off her belt and into the palm of the woman's hand.

The brilliant purple blade sprung to life though not in time to stop one of the bolts striking against her shoulder. The searing pain was like pleasure, a reminder that as long as it remained she was alive and drawing breath. Like the predator Teresa was she came down, feet scraping and skidding against dried dirt. The last moment of the soldier in front of her was one staring down the blade that penetrated his head. His body collapsed the saber offered no support as gravity made the poor souls body collapse to a crumpled corpse.

Drawing in breath, focusing on the fear and the energies of war as well as the tasks ahead was all fuel for fire. "Yes fire." She thought as her blade swung to stop the hail of blaster bolts targeting her. Team Cresh now stood behind her their numbers overpowering for the remnants who so valiantly held onto this spot. Quickly the fore before her tried to take cover, peaking to only take certain shots. Though it was a window allies gave her. Pulling on the flames of the broken turret it began to trail through the air like a tendril. Not as powerful as she had seen it used, but it was enough for her. The trail lead to the back line of metal and men. One set a light then a second, a third finally a fourth. Their screams and shrieks like a quartet. "Leave non alive, take no chances on prisoners."

Team Cresh finally passed her, executing those who tried to surrender and others who fought till a dying breath. Spinning on her heals her eyes darted to look at the spot she had been hit. The flesh was charred black and the surrounding was red and inflamed. Though she did not ask for it, an ally came to her side, without permission the soldier clad in black armor and the Kainite crest upon his pauldron sprayed a blue mist over the site of the wound. "Will not heal the damage ma'am, but it will help calm it down."

Without a word he moved on to treat others. Reaching out her hand the gun she had dropped came to her hand. Blue smoke rose into the air carried by the winds. Flicking the saber off again she ran and beat both wings taking flight once more. Looking over to the side she saw Carnifex Fighting off a blue blade and one of those with the armor similar to those that burned Panatha. There was no telling if the giant was struggling or perhaps filling them with false hope. Unless asked she kept on task.

Now looking over to the smoke she could see heavy fire raining down on Carnifex's forces, rather than engaging she kept a slow flight above. Her eyes closed to feel through the force to passively move around the fire arched upwards. However she was doing something crafty. She took notice of those moving to aid that front and like a mirage the enemies own began to look like the Kainite soldiers. It took no longer than a second for them to fall for it. Weapons trained on allies a distraction good enough that it allowed the push.

It was not without sacrifice of a good handful of Ghhhk. She herself was a pawn or perhaps a Houjix given her mobility far exceeded those below. Each piece on this board had its use and purpose just like Dejarik. A simple game that a mind for strategy was needed. A game she had won many games, and often let the kids win on purpose to keep them entertained. Something about seeing them become cocky and filled with fire amused her. Still she wishes to best a few at the game still, those who have a good intellect that surpasses her own. To grow is to learn those superior so that you may trade who stands in who's shadow.


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Aurek team are at the base of the hill and are advance up slowly as they fight the front line
Besh are supporting
Cresh has Secured their FOB so that Transports may land to resupply, reinforce or take casualties away
 

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TYTHON, SEEING STONE
Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex | Tydeus of Tion Tydeus of Tion | Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax


Cobalt soared towards the Sith, and the crimson tibanna redirected aim to a soldier that made a dash for the Mandalorian; one and two in centre mass was all Fett needed to see him laid low, and it earned a laboured breath to think far more was needed to see the Sith Lord slain on this battlefield. He was this indescribale titan, one that wielded this tool Fett could neither see nor feel, able to swat men aside as if each of them had been flies. The Mandalorian had seen his share of conflict, a veteran of a hundred skirmishes, a thousand battles, a million hunts. Fett had to be smarter, for there was never a chance to match the Dark Lord in all other areas. He battled beasts so similar before, those with no reason to still call themselves men, but a true Dark Lord of the Sith... that was outside of his resume until now.

In a mad dash, the Mandalorian rushed forwards. His blasters fired at a rate few had access too, the most successful of Hunters able to find some tools afforded to them. In a mix of blue and red, one was more effective than the other but he fired both nonetheless. He bounced off of on foot to the side to avoid the Jedi thrown, if he was, and continued on as if no such hurl had came to be. Even as the cloak encased the Sith, Fett continued, the endless strides of the Mandalorian carried him forth and a sudden roll beneath the runeblade had seen it avoided. Unaware that it was to return. He exited the roll with force, the flames of the rockets on his back roared to life and had sent him knee first towards the helmeted chin of the Sith. But whether it connected or not, the runeblade made a return.

It crashed into his lower limbs, as if to collect them out from under him. On lesser armoured men, it was to remove them. But shields and the like saved the Mandalorian from that fate. He was, nonetheless, sent into a crash. Even then, the force of the blade on his frame had been able to cause a foul blow. He struck the rocks below, bounced, and rolled. It was with each strike that the black seemed to fall from his armour, the emerald and crimson colouration returned to some lesser extent. His torso armour had seen some small sections of emerald, so too had his helmet, and his vambraces seemed to show the most as he braced himself with them both.

"Hnh," he muttered as he came to a halt.
 

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Jacen Nimdok Jacen Nimdok
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KALETH TEMPLE OUTSKIRTS
TYTHON

Will it be pistols, swords, or fists?

"History," Vector sneered.

His vibroknife hurtled past the wandering scholar's head, embedding itself in carved stone. A pair of Final Dawn stormtroopers cleared away brush to reveal ancient steps leading underground.

"Before we settle our matter of honour," he intoned, "I intend to set the record straight."

Captain Monk gave another flourish of his stylish white cape.

"Only when you realize your life's work has been a lie will I take pleasure in ending it. Sealed away beneath your so-called Temple of Knowledge there is evidence which will vindicate my theories. Soon universities all over the galaxy will know the name Vector Monk!"
 
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DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
Akar Kesh, Tython


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The Dark Lord's fingers hesitated, dangling adrift in the ethereal gust as the heavenly Tho Yor drifted directly above. The time had come. Blackened smoke and distant fires lit in the horizon, the dust had settled around the downed destroyer, the Brotherhood marched toward battle. Today would decide the Fate of the Galaxy, the Day of Victory was at hand, the Day of the Sith.

"That day is here."


His eyes rose up to the sky, yet his attentions were elsewhere. Darth Mori. "You know what you must do, should the time come." His treacherous grin spread from ear to ear with sickening glee. At the top of the world they stood, apex of the great spire within the empty fountain belonging to the Temple of Balance. Surrounded by his retinue, he spoke.

"The Ritual begins!"

Ten long years of war, decades of planning, and countless plots weaved together into one grand juncture. Just as the Sith had experienced the power of rebirth, so too would the galaxy be remade in the fires of tribulation. The cycle would be broken, a new genesis at hand, paradise made manifest. The Great Error corrected.

His suspended hand reached out, clutching at the invisible current that flowed through him, grasping the empyrean with all his mental might as he summoned the full power of the Dark Side of the Force. Working at the speed of thought, his mind tapped into the currents of the Force, spinning, shaping, and twisting it's intricate nature to his will. The cold darkness began to swallow him up, eyes shining forth like lanterns as inky blackness began to snuff out the trademark sulfuric stains imparted upon him.



BRRRRRRGUUUUUUUUUHHHHH!

The Great Tho Yor sounded off, piercing the heavens with a mighty roar. It's siblings followed suit, calling out to the denizens of the galaxy a warning, an ill omen. The powerful energies of Tython slowly began to gather, particles of invisible majesty, the bestowing gifts of life.. taken, as the instruments of ancient salvation were twisted into weapons of galactic damnation. The mighty vergeance was tapped into and pulled from, the center of the galaxy weaponized to bring this facade, this most terrible dream, crashing down.

"Agh."

The high winds of the tall spire rolled into a mighty tempest, the Sith'ari and his retinue would now be caught in it's tight grip as everything spiraled around the mighty ritual. While none could see it, there was a battle of wills transpiring around them. Teetering on the precipice of the void, the metaphysical spirit of the Dark Voice relentlessly forced his will upon the Force as it rejected, pushed, and fought to repel the invading 'body'.

His physical shell, that anchor that held him to the corporeal world, reached out in the direction of his daughter, Jem Fossk Jem Fossk . Eyes as black as night, his cloak fluttered violently against the aggravated wind. The Dark Father opened his hand, extended in invitation as the very space around him bent unnaturally.

"Come to me, daughter."








Jem placed her hand in her fathers. Her fingers were ice, void of the clammy warmth she had clung to since her capture. She didn't seem to notice.

The fabric of the world bent around her as took up the space before him. "Father," she acknowledged. The force around her was still, no longer twisted by the battle of forces that had been raging inside her for so long. She had fallen. Her whole being rang with unmistakable darkness. Heiress to the Sith.

She hated how much she liked it.

Her eyes burned with that hatred as she looked up at him-- his features cold and void of any paternal affection.

"What will you have me do?"


Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis Darth Mori Asha Vynea Cotan Sar'andor Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Corin Trenor Corin Trenor


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SHATTERPOINT
THE GREAT ERROR FINALE
Issue #5 w/ Corin Trenor Corin Trenor Ryv Jem Fossk Jem Fossk Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis


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The sun hung eclipsed by the spiraling energies of the force storm ravaging both heaven and earth. War machines labored the death of hundreds with the abhorrent sound of each shell tearing the ground apart. Each climb upon the ancient stone staircases of Akar Kesh leading the way up to the Temple of Balance bore more and more the tortured image of Tython. Its pristine gardens, lands of rolling hills and forests now lie bare and brown. The blasted earth with a greasy shine under the bloated sun's pale rays has become the background of this restless, gloomy world torn asunder by the forces of life and death.

Death.

Once its concept invigorated his spirit; hanging on the rooftops of skyscrapers a hundred meters above ground, barely escaping the decapitating slash of a Sith, the scorching sensation of flesh burnt by saber or blaster. It had made him feel alive more than ever. But now... now death seemed an inevitability, a mandate even, and a liberation from his own past mistakes and errors. The notion vividly reminded him of the last letter he'd received from Ryv; its contents still wrenched his guts and squeezed his throat. They had been parting words, words he'd never imagined he'd read. A flicker of childish hope still faintly burned in his heart that one day, one day they would all return to those uncomplicated days before the Stygian War.

But as if their grimdark fortune was not enough, a sickening sounded off from above as the Great Tho Yor ripped through the skies above followed by its siblings. The energies convulsed like the bodies of cultists and troopers littering the spire and the Force shrieked in insurmountable pain as Solipsis' foul hand gripped at its purity. Dagon had heard or rather felt this only once before — Korriban; when the Dark Lord molded the very fabrics of reality to his will. But what was then mere whispers were now cries.

They were no longer fighting a war between the duality of Light and Dark.

This was a war for the existence of life.

"We're--" he groaned as a Sith's elbow struck his abdomen before the Jedi repulsed with the Force knocking him out in a nearby wall, "--running out of time." the Knight called out at his apprentice, ushering him to hurry. Corin had barely made it out alive on Teta, plunged to certain death by his former padawan Jem. This was the last place he should've been usually, but nothing was usual about this. They needed every living, breathing sentient in the galaxy to prevent the universe's apocalypse. It was the Jedi's oath that decreed them to spearhead this duty, this service to protect the galaxy from all evil.

"Where we're going--" he dismembered the arm of a cultist, snapped arteries painting his face with blood, "--there's no turning back." he admitted solemnly in between heaving breaths. Being fully transparent and upright was the last thing he could offer the black-haired padawan. His own past reservations, he believed, had been part of the catalyst which had led to Jem's corruption. Somewhere above, atop Akar Kesh, he could feel her presence permeating the ethereal; the gnawing claws of corruption blackening her mind and soul. And yet, veiled in the deepest depths of his heart, a fleeting ember -- much like that childish naivety hoping of a return to the untroubled past -- flailed against the storms of what was inevitable, of what was the truth.

"Not much left." Dagon remarked as they punched through the final strides leading up to the top of Akar Kesh.

Razor winds whipping his face greeted the Jedi's arrival at the Temple of Balance. Its ancient pillars of stone, tall and strong as to ground the balance of the universe, stood blackened by the foul powers emanating from the conduit of darkness that was the Dark Lord. The sight of his closest retinue sent a shiver of despair down his spine; he knew Jem was here but again, nothing ever seemed capable of preparing him to face the reality of her fall.

This was it.

His blade rose up into the familiar stance of Ataru as his voice echoed the strength of a Jedi's oath.
"Your reign of terror ends here, Solipsis."​

Faith must remain unshaken.

Even in the face of armageddon.


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DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
Akar Kesh, Tython
Jem Fossk Jem Fossk | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze | Corin Trenor Corin Trenor
Soon: Rurik Fel Rurik Fel | Ryv


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The Dark Heiress placed her cold hand within her father’s own, joining him at the center of the ritual.

"The Will of the Force is not so easily usurped. Your Jedi friends see to it that I fail, that all our efforts are left in vain.”

A devious smile spread across his lips, even as his forehead scrunched and face reeled in from the immense effort. His face still carried with it a wave of dark grimace and even more insidious aura.

“Join me, close your eyes and open your mind. Alone we are but insignificant motes of dust lost to the great void.. but together.. we can move mountains.”

His eyes lifted once more to the sky, black orbs entirely covered in midnight shadow. Storm clouds formed overhead, twisting and turning around the ritual site. The Dark Lord called out to his faithful, the cultists of the Church and the retinue protecting Akar Kesh.

Châchwayat hadzuska kûsk sutta chwituskak! Châchwayat hadzuska kûsk sutta chwituskak!! Hâsk jiaasen! Hâsk jiaasen!!”



Those words resounded across the battlefield to all his faithful, his voice bellowing in a fateful roar.

“Hâsk jiaasen!!!”

Blood called to blood, a sacrifice must be made. His faithful across the surface of Tython knew what they must do. With each sigil of blood taken from their very bodies, a pact was made. Integrating themselves into the shadow of the Sith’ari, their deaths would free them. Their deaths would break their chains and help power this great work.

The Tho Yor screamed a mighty call once more, sounding off the Horn of Hell over and over. Glowing, rotating, the storm picked up speed around them.


BRRRRRRGUUUUUUUUUHHHHH!


"Agh."

The calming influence of the Je’daii helped maintain the status quo on Tython, yet the surge of power and sheer imbalance in the Force could not be held back forever. A might Force Storm began to take root above them, the earth shook and the heavens roared.

His anger soared, the sheer momentum of his presence intensifying as he felt the passing of his Shadow Hand, his right hand Darth Caelitus. Dead. Halketh set free, and..

“Fel.”

The Dark Lord of the Sith shook his head violently and turned, pulling away his attention from the ritual as the sulfuric yellow in his hateful orbs returned, peaking out to witness the arrival of one Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze . He could almost smell the self-righteousness reek from him as he approached.




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He bellowed venomously.

Stepping away towards his opponent with hateful rage seeping from his very aura.

“I’ll enjoy killing you.”








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SHATTERPOINT
IDENTITY CRISIS FINALE
Issue #1 w/ Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Jem Fossk Jem Fossk Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis Ryv


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In the midst of his, Corin had ensured the demise of his share of Sith beside his Master. His own azure blade that mimicked his former one, new after the loss of the last, had cleaved into villainous foes; midsections torn across and limbs removed, a head even tumbled over the side and out of view between his own laboured breathes. It seemed as if his brow existed to hold onto those beads of sweat until his forearm could remove them, the tendril-like ends of his strands danced across his forehead and left their carried fluids behind.

"Yeah," the Padawan answered in confirmation; "I've no intention to turn back now."

Even in the absence of all the distance the two had covered, his second remained above in that ritual. He lost once, and earned a mean scar for it - the flesh coloured streak across his abdomen had once been the home of a blade, one that entered him and tore out no small amount of blood. She bested him. He refused to allow it now. In those few skirmishes between then and now, the Jedi had bettered himself. But for all the incease in skills, that foolish self-confidence had seen the same.



Corin locked onto Jem, a furrowed brow and narrowed stare exuded all that determination across his teen features. It was brazen boldness that had allowed him to be so sure of himself, to be so sure of success, and it carried him somewhere it should never have. Somewhere he should have elected for caution rather than a need to act in the immediate moment.



He held on no formal stance, it was almost relaxed as he shifted across to the Dark Lord. "You won't have the chance." His swift retort was so full of venom, and so then Corin ran towards the Sith'ari with his lightsaber raised.


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E M P E R O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THE IRONCLAD

@Darth Caelitus | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis | Jem Fossk Jem Fossk
Ryv | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze | Corin Trenor Corin Trenor
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MUSTER EVERY FIBER
TYTHON
876 ABY​

His eternal adversary fell dead at his heels. As the life left Caelitus's mortal shell, so too did that permeating darkness leave the air around him. It was a clarity of thought and feeling in that moment as Rurik screw his eyes shut, slowly leaning his head back as he stood alone in one final moment of tranquility, his thoughts drowned of the sounds of distant chaos and suffering that had all but imprisoned the cradle of Ashla in its violent embrace before opening his eyes once more to view the spectre, the Force ghost of an old friend.

Vyrin Karis.

"It's been long since you were last here..." He remarked to his once apprentice, who was once a bright pupil wide eyed and cavalier with all the characteristic notes of a foolhardy Jedi padawan soon to be Jedi Knight now the metal visage ruthlessly guarding vulnerable, tortured form of the man beneath.

"It has..." Rurik said, recalling that very moment, turning from his ascent to peer over the once picturesque and perfect landscape now marred and beaten from the apocalyptic war that brought this world into the clutches of annihilation. But even still, in the wake of the death of the betrayer, Rurik stood at peace knowing well of the devastation around him, of the many death dealing weapons and arms from all the Galaxy that sought to prosper against him, he took in this respite.

"You left, a student...and you return...an Emperor. It is...interesting to see, as my once pupil...and friend, to see how far you've strayed...and how little you've changed." Vyrin said, offering a faint, endearing smile to the Man of Iron as he joined his side.

"You were then one of the very best of us, in my eyes at least. And even still, you stand to follow the Code better than most any I'd ever known, better than me." He iterated. Of all the things that Rurik would have ever expected to grace his senses, it would not be a remark of his ability to be a good Jedi. He'd long stood disillusioned with his once order- seeing the Jedi Code as a dictation of false virtues to which little of its adherents ever paid heed to. And yet, Rurik embodied most of their values even as the ideologue of the Empire.

He was without emotion, he was without any personal attachments to the world around him save for his Empire and he had remained resolute from the corrupting touch of darkness in spite of its countless attempts to seduce him into its clutches. He'd many times sacrificed his body for others and offered his guidance to those who'd strayed too close to chaos many times before, the fallen man behind him being one of many examples. Beneath a different mask, under different conditions- he might've been the best of them, of the Jedi.

But he stood for something, which he saw in his eyes, greater than what he saw as a suicidal whirlwind of dark and light.

Order.

"I know...there is little to nothing I can do to pull you from the path you've gone down, Rurik. And I sense a feeling of what you are soon to do here, this day, on Tython. A rendezvous with your destiny. I can sense him, he's waiting for you." Solipsis.

Naturally, Rurik could sense him as well and he offered a nod once in understanding to Vyrin's statement.

"I have faced him several times, master. I could not best him then..." Rurik admitted earnestly, as if it wasn't an established fact. It was perhaps, the first he'd ever admitted weakness or mortality in the eyes of another.

"You failed because you stood alone, then. Ever stubborn now as you were under my tutelage. You will not be alone now. There are others before him...they may be able to fend him off, but without your...without your help- they're doomed. If you do anything this day on my behalf, Rurik-." Rurik snapped his gaze back to Vyrin and interrupted him with his next words.

"I know what needs to be done." He stated.

"Then do it..." Vyrin said, a snap of urgency in his tone before he eased back.

"May the Force be with you, Rurik. Always." He said, nodding once before the spectral vision faded before Rurik's unwavered gaze. He then turned to look up the mountainside once more, narrowing his gaze as he honed his vision in on the temple at its peak.

His fate awaited him.

His ascent was a slow, pace at first, his leather boots beating into the stony earth beneath as he raised his gloved hand embedded with his comlink to his face.

"Lord General..." He spoke, his voice was enough to identify him to the Woad DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran , neglecting the need for any callsigns.

"Relay to the others at The Betrayer has been slain and that Solipsis is next. Until otherwise spoken by me and me alone, you have command of the Empire, not merely its army, The Empire. Whatever you need will of it to achieve victory this day...do it. I care not for the cost, our will be done this day. Ave Empire." He said before he snapped his line of communication closed and continued to scale the mountain before him, his path differing from the carved staircase and offering a far more abrasive route split from the no doubt stiff resistance of mortal life that Solipsis had placed between him and Fel.

The closer he got, the more the throes of darkness embraced the space around him. As soon as he entered its grounds proper, his argent blade snapped to life only to view two of Solipsis's adherence mutilate themselves and collapse in sacrifice to the great ritual being conducted by their master. His eyes widened at the sight before he continued his advance.

And soon enough, at Solipsis's beckon and Corin and the approach toward him, a violent burst of Force power would rip into the chest and
emerging from the shadows, the Man of Iron stood himself before the bringer of apocalypse once more, hoping to draw the full focus and attention of the Sith'ari toward him.

"Your Hand has been severed, Demon."

He said, holding his arms out in all but taunting gesture, the very same one would use to step into the form of the Vornskr.

"Nothing more lies between you...and me. And today...you die."

Jem was left to hold the ritual alone. It pulsed through her body like a war drum. Her lips moved, the incantations torn from her before they could be fully spoken. The strength of each sacrificed came to her and just as quickly the force storm took it away. It was an unceasing vacuum the stole the very air she breathed. She was nothing but a vessel for it all. The darkness grew, until a critical mass was hit and..

the scales tipped...​

The force storm no longer needed her, it took on momentum of its own. Jem crumbled to her knees and gasped, her eyes black as they opened to world. The air in her lungs felt distant, as did the image of her father as he descended on all three.

She had felt everything, every sacrifice, every quiver of resistance, but at this moment she would have given anything to feel the ground under her knees.

Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Corin Trenor Corin Trenor Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis Rurik Fel Rurik Fel
 
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Allies: Defenders l Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser l Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield l Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel l Madison Starr
Enemies: Darth Libertas Darth Libertas l Attackers, Destroyers of Tython l Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco l The Mongrel The Mongrel l The Hound
Temple Grounds

Engaging: The Hound


Something sinister creeped along the inner workings of his mind, the parts that warned him of danger and of things to be cautious of. It was something awakening. Like a beast, coming out from a cave. Except this was corrupt. Like a sick person in the force- it was the best way to describe it. He cocked his head, turning as he grimaced. It was unpleasant, like every sense had been assaulted by something foul. He spun his body, facing the new threat-

But new was something what it was not. It came out of the stone, like an ancient horror.

Lightning and explosions rocked Tracyn, causing him to brace his feet, skidding back as he held his ground.

He looked at the fresh horror that the Sith had spawned with their foul magicks. It was unpleasant to look at, some alchemical monstrosity, someone corrupted long ago. Suffer not them to live, as it were.

He turned on his heel, pacing forward as he marched to the Hound, standing in front of him.

Snap-hiss.

The green blade spurred to life, meeting the Hound of Vahl's stance of challenge. Except Tracyn wasn't like other Jedi- he moved first. Defense be damned, he was already under attack!

Djem So was his preferred method of engagement- as it closely mirrored the Mandalorian melee combat he was brought up with. He drew the force into his body, narrowing his eyes as he closed the distance between them, dragging his lightsaber on the ground, and moved his shoulder to bring it up. It was a tricky feint of course, the skidding on the ground, the hissing, the spark and the movement of the green blade was meant to distract them for the real attack-

Tracyn brought his armored foot up and went to kick the Sithspawn straight in the stomach, provided he got close enough and the Sithspawn didn't do something just as sneaky.




 
Atop the hill...

The shoto's hissing length of sapphire sank up until to the Sith, but Korr's short-lived victory was swiftly swallowed as Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex wrapped a gauntleted hand around the arm wielding the shoto. The Sith squeezed. Hard. Despite his own duraplast gauntlets guarding his forearms, Ryan felt his bones bow, screaming in protest. He gritted his teeth and let out a gasp of pain. Then Carnifex swiveled on his hips and with hideous strength threw Korr like a ragdoll.

Ryan lurched off his feet and flew through the air, barely glimpsing the Mandalorian Koda Fett Koda Fett leaping over his tumbling body mid-air, before he hit the dirt and managed to roll to his feet. Rattled, but far from broken, Korr left his crouch at a sprint that came swiftly on the heels of Fett's own charge.

As he ran, he held up a hand and gathered the energies of the Force, then unleashed a burst of radiance as bright as the surface of the sun, easily capable of searing unprotected cornea. The Sith's helmet might be capable of quickly polarizing against the light, but Korr counted on this too. The swift darkening of such a lens would be a small impediment, but in fights such as these even the smallest bit of leverage mattered.

The Jedi ran as if to leap, then abruptly launched himself into a slide, skidding past Fett and whipping his lightsaber toward the back of Carnifex's leg as he slid past.

Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax
 

THE END IS THE BEGINNING

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:: Aboard the Avatar of War



Runi's helm lifted to regard Romul as she kept the tips of her swords against the deck beneath her feet. One of the many reasons Mandalorians wore armor was so the enemy couldn't tell what their opponent's physical or mental state might be, and what action they might take next as a result. In this case, the tension that clenched tightly to the muscles of both arms and began to bleed into her shoulders and upper body were hidden beneath the leather, metal, and feathers she wore. The Manda was a powerful ally, but one had to act as its conduit -- power enough to shape the world. But it was a burden she had trained to weather, and would weather for her brothers and sisters.

As the rest worked to cut through the door separating them from the hanger, Runi silently began to shift in place. It was slow, pain-staking word to draw the tips of her blades against the deck without breaking her concentration. The slightest slip could result in the sudden shrinking or collapse of the bubbles woven. Bubbles sustained by conscious thought and effort in that moment.

By the time the Mandalorians began to surge through the hole they'd made, the Shaman had etched part of a design with careful and deliberate shifts and turns. It did not please her to know the rest had gone on ahead without her; their well-being was her primary concern in life. A warrior knew when to be content with humble, yet crucial tasks, however. Her place was here. For now.

The minutes drew on. Sweat slid down the sides of Runi's face as she labored. Then, in one expulsion of breath, her leg bent, but she caught herself before her knee touched the deck. With clenched teeth, the Shaman righted herself and slowly lifted her swords in both hands. A slow roll of her head to crack and pop her neck and shoulders followed. The burning tingle of sensation dawned in her limbs and soon stabbed into the tips of her fingers.

With the anchor set, Runi slowly straightened up to her full and height and took the first step after her vod.

Despite the desire to rush head-long into the unknown to catch up, the tribal-dressed Mandalorian woman only held a quickened pace down the corrupted corridors of the Sith's creation. Haste could get a warrior killed. Even if Romul had carved a bloody path to the hanger there was always the chance more of the enemy could sweep in from elsewhere on the ship -- it was large enough by far to make that possible. Unless the Sith had mistakenly closed too many of their blast doors, of course.

That too slowed Runi down. Much faith as she placed in her sustained Manda-shield against the vacuum of space explosively decompressing the entire deck (or vessel), it didn't hurt to manually toggle a few emergency overrides to drop more doors to seal them away from the breeches. Certainly couldn't trust the Sith to close the airlocks or whatever they'd done to expose the interior of their fortress to the void.

Sometimes being the caretaker of a people could be extremely taxing -- and not for the same reasons as most Mandalorians complained about or enjoyed. Regardless, the Manda would see Runi to the hanger when she was meant to arrive. Likely in time to deal with another underhanded Sith ploy.

:: Allied: Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Shakka Bralor Shakka Bralor | Kaz Krayt | Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla | Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt | Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen | Varik Awaud Varik Awaud
:: Opposition: Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Derix Tirall Derix Tirall | SCAR SCAR | Vorm Vorm


Began or finished sealing off the breaches from the vacuum of space, so Runi can began progressing toward the hanger herself where the rest of the Mandalorians are fighting.

 
Kaleth Temple Outskirts, Tython
Tags: Vector Monk Vector Monk

Ah, I see.” Nimdok stroked his chin thoughtfully while the vibroknife continued to rattle away in the stone, making quite a racket. “I’m afraid your name doesn’t compute. Wait… are you the one who wrote that book on the history of the twelve major Ewok tribes of Endor?

Evidently not, if his research had brought him all the way to Tython. “Never mind. Shall I call you Professor Monk, Dr. Monk, or…?

With the matter of titles settled, Nimdok turned to head down the stairs which the troops had revealed. As was his habit, he talked all the way down.

As scientists, we archaeologists are required to withhold judgment until our theories have been tested. We should always derive our conclusions from solid evidence—the foundation of all our knowledge. Unless, of course, you are more of a propagandist than a historian, which I believe there is some evidence of.”

He gestured to the Final Dawn troops, then shrugged. “There is one thing I don’t understand. While I confess to showing favoritism toward Canon B in my studies of the Jedi and Sith, I don’t subscribe to the historicity of Canon A or Canon B in particular, so I don’t really see what the disagreement between us is. It’s long been accepted among scholars that, given the intellectual dark age of the Gulag Era, when so many invaluable records and archaeological evidence was destroyed or lost, we have no way of confirming which canon is absolutely true. There is some evidence to be found for both versions of events—though many are quick to point out that the relics of the past could easily be copies or forgeries, and we have nothing to compare them to. Therefore…
 



Allies: Mandalorian Enclave l Defenders of Tython l Shakka Bralor Shakka Bralor l Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida l Kaz Krayt l Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla l Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt l Varik Awaud Varik Awaud

Not Allies: Attackers of Tython l Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen l Derix Tirall Derix Tirall l Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr l

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Murder Machine l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades







Fenn felt his legs give way, the very air around him sucked away. He was tumbling, flailing around- his head tilted back, to the vacuum of space.

This was it. This was how he died. Cold, alone, frozen in the emptiness of space. No songs of his name, no glory to be had, no one to remember him. He closed his eyes, ready to accept it. The warmth of the Manda, the comfort of a thousand Mandalorians guiding him to the afterlife, so that he too, could join in the eternal peace.

He felt himself stop.

A hand reached out to him. Grabbed him. His weapon was floating away. He had to grab it.

He was still in this fight.

He was still alive.

He could still fight.

He could still kill.

He didn't say anything to the Mandalorian who saved him for the time being- a hand on his shoulder, was more than enough. He grabbed the handle of his fearsome weapon, the barrels spinning up to face the Mawite traitors that came forth, threatening to envelop Romul. The Mawite's were coming in droves, Red-stained, blood-filled legions of demonic possession.

Not deserving of life, and certainly not deserving of mercy. Fenn would take from them the former, and give them none of the latter.

The barrel of his weapon- humorously written before the battle as "SURRENDER TERMS" on the receiver, began to spin. Surrender Terms, indeed. Fenn screamed, as he simply pointed the weapon at the incoming Mawite reinforcements.

And opened fire.

Amber bolts came to the enemy, a high rate of fire in an enclosed, decimating capacity. Numbers counted for nothing in the enclosed space. Fenn pushed forward, blaster bolts and incoming fire ricocheting around him, as the attackers struggled to repel his heavy frontal counter-assault. The weapon continued to lay down rapid-fire carnage, ripping apart the Maw loyalists with such ferocity that even Kad Ha'rangir would have smiled on Fenn.

He pressed onward, taking the lead. He was given another chance by a brother. And he would not waste it.

War called. Fenn answered.







 
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Location: Rowan Grove Plateau
Allies: BOTM, Thomas Barran Thomas Barran
Enemies: NIO, NJO, Enclave
Objective: Learn

To say that Ronar was confused would be a gross understatement. He had expected to come to this place and immediately be challenged. The warchiefs of his people had been arrogant, self-righteous b*******, though most often for good reason. They were, after all, the strongest and most cunning warriors a tribe could offer. They got their positions through strength of arms and sharpness of mind, and they kept them through a brutal mixture of cruelty, fear, and carefully selected assassinations. They earned the right to gloat, and it could take years of battle-hardening for a champion to earn their respect. To earn their friendship? That, in most cases, took a lifetime, if indeed it happened at all.

But this man? If he was a warchief, he was the strangest one Ronar had met in all his twenty-four years. As soon as the warrior began speaking, Ronar's carefully concocted facade shivered, shattered, and then jumbled into a mess on the ground. His words were soft, calm, and collected. So prepared was Ronar to be lorded over, dismissed, even mocked, that when the total opposite reached his ears it was all he could do just to breathe. Ronar, eyes wide, looked up at him as the man recounted the arrival of Ronar's paltry band. He seemed to be refusing his service...and offering him a position instead!

The man grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to his feet. The action was so unexpected that the bone-clad soldier offered no resistance.

"But as of now? You're a Scar Hound, Ronar."

No, no this wasn't right. This man couldn't be a warchief. Where was the arrogance, the pride? Where were the demands to prove his strength? A real warchief would demand the heads of ten lieutenants, fifty enemy ears, the pelts of a dozen ravenous beasts! He would force Ronar to duel the warchief's own bodyguard with a blunt sword! Ronar's eyes narrowed slightly. This man had to be weak, he had to be a false leader. And yet, not even that conclusion made sense. So close to his presence, Ronar could feel the man's power making the very air crackle with an energy that was both tantalizing and terrifying. Surely, this man was a great warrior.

"Our oath of affiliation never was one of subservience or fealty, lad.... Ours was, is, and always shall be a creed of brotherhood, camaraderie, and most of all - our commitment to completing the Cycle!"

These were not words spoken from warchief to champion, at least not among Ronar's tribe. They were words spoken between blood-brothers, men who had fought beside each other in campaigns innumerable. Men who knew each other, believed in each other; trusted each other. This man was offering the type of position it would have taken him years to acquire amongst his own people. And it had been as easy as getting on a transport. Truly, Ronar didn't know what to do. It seemed too good to be true.

'An' besides.... The only ones you kneel to are the Mongrel and our Dark Lord Solipsis.'

Rule number five, Ronar,
came the ever-present words of his father, who not even to his closest advisors had ever spoken this way, The wolf takes what is offered. He uses the good to prepare for the bad.

Yes, that is what Ronar would do. Maybe this was all a trap. Maybe this strange warrior was a fool. But he was offering Ronar unparalleled opportunity. He was giving him a position in which he bowed only to the great leaders of the horde. If Ronar was to draw a comparison, the man had taken him from the captain of a warband, to nearly a warchief in his own right. Ronar would be a fool to turn such a chance down. Though he still felt a twinge of distrust and doubt towards the strange circumstances, it had long been a custom of his people to keep their enemies close at hand; preferably within reach of a strong sword-slice.

In the distance, the sounds of battle reached Ronar's ears. In seconds, the old raider's mind snapped back into place like a rubber band drawn tight and released. He thought of his men, battling with the rest of the Maw's forces. He had to get back to them. Being a warchief was not just a privilege; it was a responsibility.

'And so the real fight begins.... Follow me, Ronar. We can talk on the way down, as I'm sure you'll have your questions. One-time-only deal, free-reign to learn until we stash our speeder-bikes. Soun' like a plan?'

"Lead the way," Ronar nodded, falling in step to the back and left of his new comrade, "I hunger for battle."

As the pair mounted speeder bikes, Ronar took the offered opportunity to speak.

"I am afraid I have had little chance to learn in the days before battle," he said plainly, "What does it mean to be a Scar Hound?"
 
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That light at the end of the tunnel leads to Hell


GAME ON YAKHEAD!
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SHIP NAME: ETHEREAL, SILVER CITY, CELESTIAL CITY
SHIP CLASS: CARRIER, HEAVY CARRIER, SUPER CARRIER
FLAG OFFICER: LIRAM ANGELLUS
SHIP CAPTAIN: ROGER POWELL (Ethereal), ZEV TANTOR (Silver City), GYM HALPERN (Celestial City)
COMMAND STAFF
EQUIPPED: 25x L4Vele Series Deployable Defense turrets. per ship
CAPTAIN'S LAUNCH: "Amenadiel"

FIGHTER COMPLIMENT: 103rd Tactical Starfighter Wing "Angel of Death Squadron"
CALLSIGNS: Admiral Angellus "Maverick" is and will always be "Angel 1", Captain Rojuh Pouil "Starlight" is "Angel 2" Captain Scoht Pouil "Meteor" is "VOODOO 1". Captain Ewan Isaacs "Raider" is "SCAR 1" and in command of the Jackals primarily for both ships. Each Squadron leader makes up the remaining "Angel" callsigns, their individual squadrons and make-ups are named below.


LONG-RANGE INTERCEPTION (10 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 2 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  2. Angel 3 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  3. Angel 4 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  4. Angel 5 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  5. Angel 6 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  6. Angel 7 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  7. Angel 8 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  8. Angel 9 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  9. Angel 10 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  10. Angel 11 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor

MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER (12 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 12 NC-1000 X-Wing
  2. Angel 13 NC-1000 X-Wing
  3. Angel 14 NC-1000 X-Wing
  4. Angel 15 NC-1000 X-Wing
  5. Angel 16 NC-1000 X-Wing
  6. Angel 17 NC-1000 X-Wing
  7. Angel 18 NC-1000 X-Wing
  8. Angel 19 Ashera Class Fighter
  9. Angel 20 Ashera Class Fighter
  10. Angel 21 Ashera Class Fighter
  11. Angel 22 Ashera Class Fighter
  12. Angel 23 Ashera Class Fighter

STEALTH/RECON FIGHTER (5 Squadrons)

  1. Angel 24 Azazael class Stealth fighter
  2. Angel 25 Azazael class Stealth fighter
  3. Angel 26 Azazael class Stealth fighter
  4. Angel 27 Azazael class Stealth fighter
  5. Angel 28 Azazael class Stealth fighter

DEFENSIVE FIGHTER SCREEN (3 Squadrons)

  1. Angel 29 Starfury class Starfighter
  2. Angel 30 Starfury class Starfighter
  3. Angel 31 Starfury class Starfighter


BOMBERS W ESCORT (10 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 32 Demon Class Bomber
  2. Angel 33 Demon Class Bomber
  3. Angel 34 Demon Class Bomber
  4. Angel 35 Demon Class Bomber
  5. Angel 36 Demon Class Bomber
  6. Angel 37 Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter
  7. Angel 38 Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter
  8. Angel 39 Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter
  9. Angel 40 Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter
  10. Angel 41 Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter

SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS (10 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 42 Cherub Gunship
  2. Angel 43 Cherub Gunship
  3. Angel 44 Cherub Gunship
  4. Angel 45 Cherub Gunship
  5. Angel 46 Cherub Transport
  6. Angel 47 Cherub Transport
  7. Angel 48 Cherub Transport
  8. Angel 49 Cherub Transport
  9. Angel 50 Cherub Transport
  10. Angel 51 Cherub Transport

SHIP NAME: SILVER CITY
SHIP CLASS: HEAVY CARRIER
SHIP CAPTAIN: ZEV TANTOR
COMMAND STAFF
Amenediel Shuttle Mk II

FIGHTER COMPLIMENT: "VOODOO WING"

CALLSIGNS: Admiral Angellus "Maverick" is and will always be "Angel 1", Captain Rojuh Pouil "Starlight" is "Angel 2" Captain Scoht Pouil "Meteor" is "VOODOO 1". Captain Ewan Isaacs "Raider" is "SCAR 1" and in command of the Jackals primarily for both ships. Each Squadron leader makes up the remaining "Angel" callsigns, their individual squadrons and make-ups are named below.

LONG-RANGE INTERCEPTION (8 Squadrons)
  1. Voodoo 2 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  2. Voodoo 3 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  3. Voodoo 4 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  4. Voodoo 5 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  5. Voodoo 6 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  6. Voodoo 7 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  7. Voodoo 8 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
  8. Voodoo 9 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor

MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER (10 Squadrons)
  1. Voodoo 10 NC-1000 X-Wing
  2. Voodoo 11 NC-1000 X-Wing
  3. Voodoo 12 NC-1000 X-Wing
  4. Voodoo 13 NC-1000 X-Wing
  5. Voodoo 14 NC-1000 X-Wing
  6. Voodoo 15 NC-1000 X-Wing
  7. Voodoo 16 Ashera Class Fighter
  8. Voodoo 17 Ashera Class Fighter
  9. Voodoo 18 Ashera Class Fighter
  10. Voodoo 19 Ashera Class Fighter

STEALTH/RECON FIGHTER (5 Squadrons)

  1. Voodoo 20 Azazael class Stealth fighter
  2. Voodoo 21 Azazael class Stealth fighter
  3. Voodoo 22 Azazael class Stealth fighter
  4. Voodoo 23 Azazael class Stealth fighter
  5. Voodoo 24 Azazael class Stealth fighter

BOMBERS W ESCORT (5 Squadrons)
  1. Voodoo 25 Demon Class Bomber
  2. Voodoo 26 Demon Class Bomber
  3. Voodoo 27 Demon Class Bomber
  4. Voodoo 28 Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter
  5. Voodoo 29 Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter

DEFENSIVE FIGHTER SCREEN (3 Squadrons)

  1. Voodoo 30 Starfury class Starfighter
  2. Voodoo 31 Starfury class Starfighter
  3. Voodoo 32 Starfury class Starfighter

SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS (5 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 30 Cherub Gunship
  2. Angel 31 Cherub Gunship
  3. Angel 32 Cherub Transport
  4. Angel 33 Cherub Transport
  5. Angel 34 Cherub Transport

SHIP NAME: ETHEREAL
SHIP CLASS: CARRIER
SHIP CAPTAIN: ROGER POWELL
COMMAND STAFF
Amenediel Shuttle Mk II

TRANSPORT COMPLIMENT: "ARES WING"

CALLSIGNS: Admiral Angellus "Maverick" is and will always be "Angel 1", Captain Rojuh Pouil "Starlight" is "Angel 2" Captain Scoht Pouil "Meteor" is "VOODOO 1". Captain Ewan Isaacs "Raider" is "SCAR 1" and in command of the Jackals primarily for both ships. Each Squadron leader makes up the remaining "Angel" callsigns, their individual squadrons and make-ups are named below.

SPACIAL COMBAT AND RENDITION - SCARs use the Jackal Fighter for its balance of speed and maneuverability as well as its remote capabilities. This allows the elite pilot/operators to"bail" and operate in zero-G often a tactic in boarding capital ships.
  1. SCAR 4 Jackal Class Starfighter
  2. SCAR 5 Jackal Class Starfighter
  3. SCAR 6 Jackal Class Starfighter
  4. SCAR 7 Jackal Class Starfighter
  5. SCAR 8 Jackal Class Starfighter
  6. SCAR 9 Jackal Class Starfighter
  7. SCAR 10 Jackal Class Starfighter
  8. SCAR 12 Jackal Class Starfighter
  9. SCAR 13 Jackal Class Starfighter
  10. SCAR 14 Jackal Class Starfighter
  11. SCAR 15 Jackal Class Starfighter
  12. SCAR 16 Jackal Class Starfighter
  13. SCAR 17 Jackal Class Starfighter
  14. SCAR 18 Jackal Class Starfighter
  15. SCAR 19 Jackal Class Starfighter
  16. SCAR 20 Jackal Class Starfighter
  17. SCAR 21 Jackal Class Starfighter
  18. SCAR 22 Jackal Class Starfighter
  19. SCAR 23 Jackal Class Starfighter
  20. SCAR 24 Jackal Class Starfighter
  21. SCAR 25 Jackal Class Starfighter
  22. SCAR 26 Jackal Class Starfighter

SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS
  1. Ares 1 Cherub Gunship
  2. Ares 2 Cherub Transport
  3. Ares 3 Cherub Transport
SECTOR: Tython
ORDERS: Drive out Maw Forces at all costs
WINGMATES: Tags [House Io] | Maple Harte
Tags [Tython Accords] Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause | Aculia Voland | Ari Naldax | Artemis Toth | Aximand Sicarus | Mellifluous Magenta | Mith'akis'ormo | Mylo Thorne | Rex Valhoun | Tren Chaar | Vaux Gred
Tags [Enclave] | Balt Vizsla | Romul Saxon | Vemric Keldra | Verin Oldo

TARGETS: Tags [BotM/Final Dawn] Marlon Sularen || Tu'teggacha | Aldo Garrick |Derix Tirall | Akûz the Ravager | Electra-12

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Silver City, Celestial City, Ethereal, Oceanic, Divinity, Bartera

As the weapons tradeoffs continued, the “Oceanic” was still attempting repairs, they were “mostly” successful but Engineering reported that the hyperdrive was knocked out and irreparable. The hull breaches were being addressed and emergency shields were being brought up. Her captain reported that the defensive net was working, and tightening the positions of the deployable auto-turrets was the right call as the firepower effectiveness had increased thirty percent. This helped buy them some more time to make repairs. “The Ethereal’s” repairs were coming along nicely. The catapults were back up and running, and the long guns are getting power to them and should be operational soon. All of this brought unseen relief to the Admiral who was preparing for the next wave of fighting.

The Ashera interceptors were putting up a strong fight, assisted by the other coalition fighters. Their long-range operational capabilities proved invaluable in their abilities to make banked turns at a speed where other pilots have to slow in order to not lose their targeting arrays. The equivalent of one fighter squadron so far has been lost, considering the numbers put up, which is a (bittersweet) “good” amount of losses.

There were good reports that the “already damaged” Star Destroyer would go down inevitably. This meant that they could focus on others, not ignore that ship, but pay more attention to the other threats. This was necessary as the green flashes of drivers, rails, and turbolaser fire lit up the night sky and slammed into the shields of allied ships. The advanced shielding, as well as angular designs, helped the Silver fleet survive the deadly weapons of the Maw. This, along with the forward-thinking of the Admiral, a career fighter pilot with a history, no, a legacy of fleet action. His commanders, his department heads, all fighter pilots. When asked, he would tell you the truth, they do not think like “Fleet Officers” they assess situations and apply what they have learned in a manner that befits 4-12 fighters versus natural fleet officers who will rely more on their guns.

“Sir, Bombers are running into resistance on their runs toward the gravity wells and the heavies are running into problems attacking the Superweapon of the Maw.”

All available X-wing squadrons focus on flying cover for the bombers and “mowing the lawn” (clearing out the surface guns). Also, how are we contacting Aximand Sicarus, he should know that those are our boys moving in on the Maw ship. We’re trying to save their butts, they could at least help us do it.

He did not mean that like it sounded, not at all, but in the heat of battle, you tend to lose the art of “tact” in your conversational skills.

Bring up “The Divinity”. Her guns can help ward off support ships and could draw some of the fighters off of ours. “ The Bartera” needs to start getting more involved in this fight.

Punching up his comm.

Yes sir.

Captain, your helmsman were fighter pilots, right?

Yes sir, A-wings, and B-wings respectively.

Perfect. If we provide you with as much cover as we can; could you bring your ship into the soup and start eating?

Tally-Ho, sir! Consider these bandits bugged or splashed.

Keep me informed!


Changing Comms again to SCAR Team leader Commander Ewan “Raider” Isaacs.

” Raider! It’s “Maverick!” Sitrep!

The Commander looked to have a rifle in his hand and was annoyed at the request for information.

“Not a good time, sir. We’re knee-deep in excrement and got a buncha’ cows coming!”

Are You making any progress?!

“Slowly! We’re goin’, but the more you call me, the slower we go! We’re hitting Engineering now on all three simultaneous! You’ll know if we’re good or not!”


The numerical explanation of one to two hundred pilots bailing, zero-g, and boarding an enemy vessel is said to be “folly” and not worth remembering. In many ways this was true. However, in just as many ways, this is to the advantage of those who are attacking the ship as SCAR Teams are not just pilots, but trained Special Forces Operators. They are trained to efficiently work in small combat teams, operate in shadows, and complete objectives that they should not be capable of. No, they are not superhuman. None of them are even Force Sensitive, but they are good at what they do. That is not to say that they are completely effective, it is more than possible to overwhelm them if you have the numbers as TSD 5 would be able to report, but unlike regular Operators, they can bail out a window and traverse open space to get back to an awaiting fighter.

“Sir, SCAR teams are reporting a failure on the Start Destroyer dubbed “5”.”

Biting his lip and shaking his head, he was surprisingly ready for the next bit of bad news.

Sir, I’m ordering an evacuation. The reactor cooling system is leaking and we cannot stop it.

How long do you have?

If you can buy is some time, I can get everyone off I need to. We’ll then commit to tactical ram.

Get on it.


Switching frequencies one more time.

Let’s turn up the heat everyone. All guns. If it’s not a coalition. Shoot it to pieces… and switch the turrets to “offensive” mode.

“The Bartera” lurched forward and started using her quad cannons to focus on fighters as her other cannons put sights on Maw and Maw-allied ships. She was fast and rather agile, though not going to stand up to concentrated “ship to ship” action. That being said, while she was not created purely as an “Anti-starfighter” ship, The “Revelry” class cruise was more than capable of assisting.


The Silver Ships, the Silver fighters, head to head against the Maw, they were outgunned, but they had the advantage of having more friends. That was something that Angellus was about to take advantage of right now as he put in a holo-call to all coalition ship and group commanders he knew of, Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause | Aculia Voland | Ari Naldax | Artemis Toth | Aximand Sicarus | Mellifluous Magenta | Mith'akis'ormo | Mylo Thorne | Rex Valhoun | Tren Chaar | Vaux Gred| Balt Vizsla | Romul Saxon | Vemric Keldra | Verin Oldo with some attached coordinates of the Maw ship Prydes.

Ladies… Gentlemen… that ship there? That ship has something we don’t want on it. I’m taking it down if any of you want to help? Well, that would be just wonderful.

Liram didn’t know specifically about the Pincer move about to be employed. His instincts screamed at him that something was up, but the Legacy DID know that if the enemy had gravity wells. They needed to go, and they needed to go right away. He was trying, but tired of being outgunned.





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“I want a column of tanks fortifying that overlook! I want Gundarks and Jackhammers hitting them from either side! Bring our boys in the middle Oorah?”

Collectively:“OORAH!”

“Let’s show these bastards we can fight too!”

The Jackhammers had a singular purpose. They were going in at high speeds and raising cane. The angled armor, the beefy design, and the overall speed were used to full advantage to plow through as many troops, droids, and light vehicles as they could. The Gundarks were taking advantage of the attention being drawn onto the Jackhammers and were opening up on anything that might have a shot lined up. They were of course backed up by the Saraquel fighting vehicles firing on troops and unloading reinforcements and the 2319 and Haniel tanks firing from a distance.

Two Jackhammers were lost, one due to engine failure from a well-placed grenade, the other due to two shredded tires from a Sith lightsaber. They had no Jedi backing them up, this could be a problem, but the combined tank fire and the main cannon from both rolling command centers neutralized the destructive threat in a huge ball of fire. The Sith did survive, having dodged and shielded herself, but she did not stay, the Acolyte committed to a tactical retreat of her own, realizing that the fools that were with her were ridiculously incompetent.

The area was secure, but fighting could be seen in fiery flashes ahead. Just how far ahead was the question.

“I want two squadrons of Gunships moving ahead and running recon. Contact Admiral Angellus and find out where our air support is!”

  1. Ethereal (Catapult launchers repaired, forward long-range weapons still down, shields at 75 percent)
  2. Silver City (Shields holding at 89 percent)
  3. Celestial City (Shields holding at 82 percent)
  4. Conservator class Heavy Cruiser “Divinity”(minor damage to decks 8, 11, 14 Shields holding at 56 percent)
  5. "Avalon" Class destroyer “Oceanic” (critical damage Hull breaches on decks 4-7, Shields at 18 percent)
  6. Revelry Class Cruiser “Bartera” (moderate damage Shields holding at 72 percent)


    • Carriers“Silver City”, and “Celestial City” are dug in returning fire Avatar of War fleet TSDs with long-range cannons focusing on TSDs 4, 5, and 6 to offer some assistance to SCAR teams.
    • Carrier “Ethereal” has not withdrawn but has “pulled back” into a more supportive position while tending to damages, committing primary responsibilities until repaired to the defensive net.
    • Destroyer “Oceanic” is attempting repairs as the defensive fighter screen protects. If repairs are not successful, the crew will go to escape pods, and command staff will commit to tactical ramming of a target of opportunity.
    • SCAR teams and fighters rerouted from support ships and now focusing on opposite flank Tyrant Star Destroyers (Jackal Squadrons 21-24 flying cover/attack in fighters, Jackal squadrons 4-20 bailing out to “Zero- 6 Breach” ships to shut down systems as well as destroy navigation and engines from inside)
    • 10x Azazael Class Stealth fighter squadrons (down two squadrons total Angel squadrons 24-26, 28, and Voodoo squadrons 21-24) flying cover for SCAR jackals and zero-G teams
    • X-wings (Down nine fighters total, Angel Squadrons 12-18, and Voodoo squadrons 10-15) and bombers(Angel 32-36, and Voodoo 25-27) attacking Maw ship “Prydes”’ gravity wells
    • Heavy Assault fighter squadrons (Angel 37-41, and Voodoo 28-29) attempting to engage and destroy Superweapon
    • Interceptors squadrons (Angel 2-10, and Voodoo 2-8) flying high-speed cover for the heavies
    • Ashera class fighters utilize their long-range capabilities to operate at attack speed all across the “theater” engaging enemy fighters anywhere that might be lining up coalition forces for ambush or a shot.
    • Defensive satellites and fighter screens up and operational
    • Cruiser “DIvinity” engaged flanking ships and drawing fire away from attacking fighters and “The Oceanic”
    • “The Batera” is using “anti-fighter” capabilities to provide cover fire for attacking fighters.
    • (Without outright knowing about the Thrawn Pincer about the be employed), Angellus has put in an “all call” to all coalition forces to fire on the Maw ship “Prydes” strictly on the basis of the gravity wells.
    • Marines still moving to the next sector on Tython. A secure landing zone has been established and the path leading from the “Master’s Retreat” coming from the North is more and more established. Moving toward “Seeing Stone”



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Jd0UQlmpTF3PkNLQZi4Hu4lCYN-FvykZ9o4UZkYVx_yNuwFFygoMw_E6UqgwpEVcIQ7BAvA-3dzP-nn-Sk24R7ssB-p9l0ES1o3o1XlG9o9OSpr7HMgsa1kVLe3RCt3hp7L6Vvmx
Location: Akar Kesh - Tython
Objective: Defend the Ritual
Direct Engagement: Kimiko Taiyou Kimiko Taiyou

The Elzeri prayed.

Chassella had always been an extremely spiritual individual, stemming from the moment she came to believe in the now-dormant or potentially dead Goddess of Chaos, Discordia. It was that faith which had motivated her to join the Eight Arrows Sect instead of serving her commitment as a soldier in the Wild Hunt or a spacer in the Armada. Perhaps then, it was unsurprising that she had fallen to the Maw, since faith was their greatest weapon against the endless armies, vast fleets, and superpowered mage-knights of the galaxy’s superpowers. As spoken by the Heathen Priest Ananeos on Empress Teta:


"Now you see why we know no fear," the high priest finally continued. "We know that faith can overcome battleship armadas and magic-wielding demigods. The Avatars are the one true power in this universe, and so we cannot fail. We serve the cycle, and the cycle is inevitable."

While Chassella worshiped the Dark Side itself and by extension, the Sith’ari, rather than the Three Avatars like those who subscribed to the Scripture of the Hidden Maw, she did find kinship in their beliefs. While Mandalorians clad their boorish, rank forms in beskar, relying on a nigh-unbreakable, yet ultimately inert metal for protection, the armor of those who followed the Solipsian Order was faith.

If recent galactic events had proven anything, faith was far superior to beskar.


“Hâsk jiaasen!!!”

And so, it was faith alone that drove the Elzeri to slice open her palm as she echoed the words of Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , letting the blood flow freely before drawing the rune on her forehead, wincing when the heated ritual knife began to char her pale flesh. She could not see what she was drawing, but having practiced marking the symbol on herself many times before in preparation for this exact moment, the rune’s shape was clear, distinct, and perhaps even artful, if an emblem of such cursed faith could be referred to as such.

Now, no matter what happened in the coming hours, in one form or another, her soul would contribute to the manifestation of the Great Correction.

h0MQflDXBI7YZqbI-QPAnDgDerIEfrLUdBBITqLltnoRGu0xH4CjzlTn6F_4JWup2hRRYfIiw4XJ0nWgyYisTaZP9QMixNl14Gu2bkd7sjcT4I1vdmvA2rw35CAakaVN9jmFVpmZ
Her form now sanctified and bound to the ritual, Chassella set out to fulfill her tasking. It did not take long for her to find one who sought to interrupt the ritual. Her quarry—an Akaran Kitsune with nine flowing tails and pointed, vulpine ears—was distinct and strikingly beautiful. However, given her religious and cultural studies at the monastery of the Eight Arrows Sect, before she had fallen to the Maw, the Elzeri knew that because of her nine tails, this being would be quite powerful. Indeed, she had learned that it was not uncommon for Kitsune with nine tails to be subjects of worship on Akarui.

Could she kill a Goddess?

If faith demanded it, then yes, she could.

Seeing the ignition of her target’s single-bladed lightsaber, with a soft grunt, Chassella heaved one of her chakrams towards the Kitsune from 27 meters away, aiming to strike her target in the back of her thigh, in an attempt to sever her hamstrings. Due to the Taozin skin and Nykkalt used in the construction of her chakrams there was a possibility that the highly-lethal flying discs might prove difficult for her target to sense, through both the Force and technology.

Nevertheless, regardless of the failure or success of her initial attack, Chassella cried out not a moment after, blind faith and ravenous bloodthirst laid bare across her features as she did.


“Hâsk jiaasen!”

 
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None of his Jedi companions needed Master San Tekka to give them orders. Each moved to confront a New Sith acolyte skulking near the temple grounds. He took comfort in their presence on this dark day. Dismounting his broken metal steed, Zark rejoined the Accord at their vanguard. Heavy antivehicle cannons trundled slowly into position on stubby walker legs.

"Trust in the Force!"

He bowed his head in meditation. Many of the soldiers behind him did the same. Gathering focus the Jedi Master's mind linked with a beacon of light aboard the Prosperity. Zark channeled that energy and focused it. Fighting at the front of a great host he emanated a radiance which heartened any who felt it. Master San Tekka raised his plasma blade and brought it slashing down.

Mortar crews set up just outside their shields opened fire as soon as he gave the signal. Cliffsides detonated under a frenzied barrage of short-range counter shelling. Soon an endless tide of Maw would be upon them. Alliance Marines waited shoulder to shoulder with Antarian Rangers, ready to unleash hell.

  • Zark draws upon the energy over Kaleth to empower his battle meditation. Tython Accords + Jedi near the ruins get big time morale boost.
  • Accord mortars bombard the northern hills in anticipation of a Maw infantry charge.
 
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While Xiphos and Phyre were slaughtering the Mawite welcoming party, Maple was rapidly getting everything ready along with the Nuetralizers when she sensed danger.

"Aunt Harte..." Called out one of the Model 1 units, a Soldier Droid named Vernon. *My onboard Droid Source Ripper has detected fluctuations in the Hangar Force Field."

Maple blinked. "Shut the Blast Doors! SHUT THEM NOW!" she screamed.

Vernon wirelessly hacked the local Hangar Electronics with his Ripper. He sequenced a thousand different intrusion methods over the course of five seconds, always stopping the shut down command from going through, but the central security system was constantly readjusting, and the Hangar Doors had barely started to shut when the Force Field went off.

Maple held the ship in place against the sudden Venting, while Phyre summoned a bubble of red, enchanted flames around her and Xiphos that protected from the decompression, while the Matriarch of House Io held herself and Phyre in place, along with the other boarding shuttles with, while the Mawite greeting party was the only ones sucked out, though Xiphos was dragged closer and closer to the outside.

The other Model 1 units and the Fixer Nuetralizer they had brought used their wireless Slicing abilities to finally Force shut the blast doors and pump air back into the room, un-decompressing it. Maple ran out and opened her palm with her knife, tracing blood runes that would force the blast doors to stay shut telekinetically regardless of what commands were given.

"They'll send more soon." Maple hissed as Darth Phyre ended her protective bubble of enchanted flames.

"Of course they will..." Phyre snorted, the mass of evil minds within having not broken their length with Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha , each one sending him a different horror, a different atrocity they each were guilty of, so perverse they mentally recorded the pain of their victims from the perspective of the victims, trying to force each horror against animals, against adults, against younglings into his head so he would experience every torture they had, all bearing down with mental sledgehammers on his barriers, growing more furious and determined to break him. "And I'll roast them."

Phyre sneered mentally at the Ebruchi's suffering, tightening her grip on his life force, a firm tether, fastidiously maintained.

SO, SQUID, I CAN SEE YOU'RE NOT ENTIRELY INEXPERIENCED... the legion of evil minds snarled at his defensive spirit. BUT YOU ARE AN APPRENTICE AT BEST, TO THE WAYS OF SADISM...

A thousand horrible atrocities committed by the witches in her, to anyone and everyone, fashioned into a jackhammer to smash away his mental defenses. A thousand curses being uttered, ravenously attempting to block out any way his spirit might successfully flee the legion.

WITH YOUR WHIPS AND PETTY CRUELTIES. uninspired. EVEN THE LEAST AMONG MY CULTISTS WOULD MOCK YOU.

Thousands of rotting faces lingering at the edge of the Ebruchi's mind, all gnawing at his shields, desiccated fingers trying to find any gap that might shove an arm through to tear at his soul.

She showed him more of the sick, horrid things she had done to others, in particular one Ebruchi she had dissected and eaten piece by piece, keeping him alive and fully cognizant with black magic even when he had been reduced to little more than chunks of slimy meat in a bowl, still twitching in agony, using the pleasurable experience as a Drill to try and pierce through his mental defenses even as she casually walked over to the Hangar exit, only to find the Blast Doors had been sealed to try and prevent them from going further. She gestured to an annoyed Xiphos, who impatiently crushed and ripped away the Blast Doors just as the Model 1 units and Model 2 and three units, along with more specialized variants that had come in the boarding shuttles. She left four Chaplain Nuetralizers and fifteen Model 3's, three Model 1's and an Advanced Model 1 behind to guard their ships. Other Model 3 units brought down two very large, almost bell shaped duffle bags that looked like they weighed at least sixty kilograms. Each would give off a faint radiological signature.

"Do we have any idea where the Path Engine is? Maple asked.

"We know where the Reactor will be. Right at the center. Get the Fixer over here..." Xiphos said.

The Fixer Nuetralizer, designed to look like a petite but curvy young Atrisian Woman in a Hazmat Suit, immediately went over to a nearby terminal, and began immediately hacking it wirelessly for directions.

"Nutrient storage is located some distance downward for us. Reactor Core is heavily defended. So is the Path Engine." The Fixer noted, while listing the most efficient pathways to them. Unfortunately, they were the most heavily defended paths."

"We have no choice. We go anyway..." Xiphos said, watching as Phyre's flesh shuddered as she tried to kill the Ebruchi's rationality and then him. Xiphos stiffened, feeling the ritual everyone on the station enacted to fuel Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis as he attempted to alter reality.

"Fething maniacs..." Maple said hypocritically, reacting in disgust as she felt his perversions reach out seemingly into the very air.

"He won't succeed. The universe won't let him. Tython could be destroyed and he still wouldn't be a God. He could drain the life of everything and everyone in the Galaxy, drain the energy from every single star, every single black hole inside it, and still he would not have the energy required to rewrite the universe. It is a vanity project, nothing more. Just like this station." Phyre dismissed. "So what do we hit with our nukes?"

The reactor core must absolutely be hit with a nuke, no question. But taking out it's Nutrient tanks would completely cripple it's ability to operate. The Path Engine is the least of our dangers, but we don't want them able to use it to try and slam into the planet like they did at Csilla. But the Reactor absolutely must suffer significant damage... Xiphos trailed mentally

"We better decide fast. We get only one shot at this, and soon we'll be swarmed." Maple grunted.

Xiphos thought a moment.

An Advanced Model 1 and Model 3's will fight their way to the Path Engine section. The Chaplains will kill their way to the Nutrient storage. And we will kill our way to the Reactor with Model 2's and 3's, one Advanced Model has to infiltrate the electrical systems in liquid form and start breaking down physical systems that will make it harder for them to send reinforcements towards us, monitor us with Security, or try tricks with the environment. We will plant the Nuke, wait as long as we can, and escape just before it goes off. We'll likely have to weaken the Reactor Core with magic before we set it off... Xiphos surmised telepathically before addressing the Nuetralizers, relaying their orders technopathically, then speaking out loud "We all know what's up at stake. No grandstanding. Don't waste time on the weak. Exterminate all that stands against you my children, or die trying. No honor. No fairness. . For if we fail, the Avatar shall stand, Tython shall fall, and a thousand worlds may follow..."

Xiphos then used her technopathy to reprogram the electronics in her local area, closing airlocks and pressurizing areas in their immediate vicinity and momentarily locking out all security overrides.

"Ironic..." Phyre remarked with a perverse smirk, still ferociously attacking the Ebruchi's mind. "We're the only Sith group trying to save Tython."

Just then there was a swirl of smoke and four Black Knights of Io, clad in their gold and black Yovshin Swordsman inspired Heavy Armor appeared, kneeling.

"Ah. Disciples. I am pleased you made it aboard." Xiphos praised.

Phyre raised a brow, perplexed. "I didn't see you Motherfethers get aboard..."

"We were in the Shadow Bride." one answered

"Since when?" Phyre questioned.

"Isn't it obvious? Because we're awesome..." another answered, giving a Troll response more out of reflex than pragmatism.

Phyre snorted in exasperation.

"Yep, they're definitely your students, Julia. Totally." Phyre muttered.

"Rip and Tear, until it is Done, my disciples. And remember! If they're huge, it means they have huge guts!" Xiphos reminded.

Each Black Knight nodded.

"Huge guts for ripping and tearing." they remarked in unison.

"Get ready..." Maple said, drawing her Battle Scout Rifle, loaded with Armor Piercing Rounds.

"You really think that antiquated firearm is going to do you any good?" Phyre asked.

"Its an expy of one of the greatest rifles ever made. So yes..." Maple answered, her response filtered as usual through a Fourth Wall break.

The group proceeded forward after Xiphos forced open the sealed blast door to the passages beyond. Two went with them, while the other two split up, one heading to Nutrient Storage, and the other to the Path Engine. An Advanced Model 1 flowed into a nearby vent, seeking a way to more sensitive Electronics. The Fixer followed the trio

("The Only Thing They Fear Is You" by Mick Gordon Plays)

They immediately came under fire and Maple reacted, snap firing two shots into the knees of Maw Warriors, strategically causing them to fall and disrupt the shots they tried to aim at the invading party, while Xiphos teleported behind one lifted up one by the neck tossing him like a Rag doll into the path of one of her Model 2 Children's repeater cannons (This individual would be promptly blasted to chit a second after)

Maple landed four more head shots , telekinetically grabbing their rifles and firing them in mid air, with the same deadly accuracy.

Some of the Model 2's opened up with their Staccato Lightning Cannons, blasting into the Mawite dozens who fired to try and desperately block them, Xiphos tearing down floor and wall panels, hurling them at shooters, teleport towards Maw Warriors and surprising them before viciously dismembering them with two blades, armor getting pinged with dozens of blaster bolts starting to get warm in some areas.

Phyre did what Phyre had been famous for in the Gulag Era.

She took in air, channeling the Dark Side and raw hatred, flesh shuddering hidiously, and blew out a powerful plume of red flames that engulfed a large squad of fanatics, making them thrash and die in agony as the red flames melted their armor upon them. Xiphos telekinetically grabbed a small crowd of Mawites and chucked them into her path, and Phyre performed the flamethrower equivalent of skeet shooting and breathed another plume of red flames

If it was ever a mystery as to why Xiphos had to think it out so carefully before trying to kill Darth Phyre and by extension, Syd Celsius and The Amalgam), she could easily afford to do what she did next AND have more than enough evil minds to kill Tu'Teggacha with from afar. Such was the terrible power of Darth Phyre. Such was the terrible power of the Amalgam.

The Black Knights conjured bright, illusory walls of flame that surprised attackers before managing to seemingly teleport to them and begin slashing away at the Maw hoardes, their expert sword training allowing to hold their own against multiple attackers all shooting at them or attempting melee, black blades slashing and stabbing through powerful armor, the Knight's fighting alongside their teacher, deflecting both bolt and bullet with their Katanas, seemingly manifesting telekinetic abilities and hurling thrown grenades back without actually touching them.

Maple blasted through the thick skull of a Mawite heavy gunner, and there was a ping sound as her rifle ejected it's clip. While she reloaded, the blasters she floated in mid air kept firing. But she didn't use the scout rifle again, instead drawing her Pistol.

Her hand lashed out, and a Mawite screamed as he was telekinetically crushed, but not killed. The headshot from her pistol did that.

"Hey Mom!" one if the Model 1 units called out, tossing her a Z-6 Rotary cannon, as he hacked the local Electronics to prevent any further environmental surprise.

Xiphos having just beheaded the last of a ferocious group of Mawite swordsmen, caught it and grinned.

"Groooooovy..." Xiphos trailed, opening fire and stabilizing its. Aim by using Telekinesis to move the cannon in addition to her hands. It's rotating barrels spinning and unleashing a brutal hail of fire into onrushing Defenders. The Alarm Klaxons were blaring everywhere, Mawite Fanatics, stormtroopers, Mandalorian defenders, E-V-E-R-Y-O-N-E rushed to stand in their way...

"Holy Superlaser, Adam! We REALLY pissed everyone off!" The Black Knight known as Burt called out to Adam the Black Knight as he disemboweled a red armored Stormtrooper.

"Have no fear Burt. The criminal scum of this Galaxy will taste the fists of justice and it's citizens will sleep soundly once more..." Adam replied as he lifted one dude up and broke his back on his armored knee.

"Gee, I hope so. Think of all those citizens who won't have pie tonight because of this disruption to their daily lives!" Burt said earnestly as his punches caved in a Mawite's pelvis before jamming his sword through his face.

Um, Laertia? Can I ask you something? Maple called out mentally as Xiphos cackled like a deranged Psychopath while mowing down another Mawite.

Whatever is the matter? Xiphos called back telepathically, not ceasing her cackling as she blasted apart a pair of stormtroopers.

Where'd you get those two?

Their banter amused me.

Oh


The Nuetralizers following did plenty of killing, but special attention was made to protect the Model 1 carrying the large duffle bag...

Meanwhile...

The Black Knight known as Kevin led the way to Nutrient storage, flanked by Chaplain Nuetralizers, who all looked like the same blonde, fair skinned woman with too perfect skin in a Hazmat suit. With them were the Alpha Red delivery system.

Sucking the air out wasn't to stop a Droid, or even the Black Knight leading them...his armor also functioned as a space suit.

The specialized warrior's genetic enhancements to his five senses allowed him to sense the approaching threat before he saw it.

He leaped out of the way as a stealthed Mawite Mandalorian, wearing black armor with a crimson skull emblazoned on his breast plate with matching crimson boots and gauntlets, tried to take his head off with a double bladed sword.

More Maw Mandalorians, each with Disruptors, came out from stealth fields and fired, causing the Organic Nuetralizers to scatter, though one Model 3 caught it and was vaporized.

The whole area erupted in a vicious, well thought out ambush that forced Kevin and the Chaplain that had been placed in charge to act quickly, using their Arc Caster Organs to send lancing bolts of Electricity outward to try and fry them in their heavy armor. This caused the Mawite Mandalorians to think they were facing some sort of Sith, so they threw void stone grenades to try and weaken them...and got a bad surprise when they were hit with what they thought was a Force Push, but was actually the effects of their bio-organic tractor pressor organs.

"Buncha Grimdark bastards, the lot of you." Kevin remarked, patiently defending against lethal, expertly delivered slashes and stabs. He had actually been on the defensive for quite a while, the Mandalorian relentlessly attacking him, sparks flying from their swords as he was driven back, the Model 3's laying down a seemingly endless stream of suppressing fire from their laser cannons, forcing the Mandalorians into cover and delivered with such accuracy that every time they tried to return fire the laser cannon fire, weak though it was, was still hitting with more than enough consecutive force to damage of at least knock their weapon out of their hand.

The Chaplains expertly dodge, jumped and ducked over Disruptor fire, getting close enough and at last using their sonic organ located in their throat to unleash a lethal sonic attack on their shooters, heavily injuring but these Mandalorians, like so many, were made of stronger stuff than normal Maw followers, and one actually managed to decapitate a Chaplain and destroy two Model 3's before a Chaplain lifted him up and Christian Baled his Spinal Column onto her knee.

One Model 2 by the name of Sarge, happily unleashed storms of powerful bolts that ripped one to shreds as he tried to duel a Chaplain, and a Model 3 engaged in a deadly martial arts fight with three attacking Mandalorians.

Kevin covered himself--somehow--in a veil of smoke and when the Mandalorian stabbed the veil, feeling nothing he stepped back in shock before Kevin leapt out of it like a badass vigilante and tackled him, brutally stabbing into his visor with his Katana.

Two Mandalorians leapt to attack him from behind...only to bolt back in surprise as a fiery serpent conjured around Kevin spraying fire at them. It was fake, of course, an illusion taught by Laertia.

That said, Laertia had once been a very skilled Stage Magician...

It took a second to register that it was an illusion, but by then it was too late and Kevin was on them both like a fly on chit, his deadly, honorless fighting method focused on killing them all as quickly and as painfully as possible,

The next fifteen seconds was an exchange of swords sparking off each other. Both Mandalorians attacking him were masters but Kevin was End Level Boss and his singular skill held back brilliant attacks and counter attacks that would have felled lesser warriors, the sparks making his golden menpo mask glint in the otherwise dim passages, and eventually he tricked them both into striking at the same time, to which he blocked, a swirl of thick gray smoke traveled around their arms, and when the Mandalorians pulled back they realized he had somehow gotten restraints around their arms.

Kevin covered himself in a pillar of smoke as Mandalorians behind him fired, yet the shots went through the smoke, hitting and killing the Mandalorians that had been attacking him by disintegration.

The pillar of smoke dissipated, revealing Kevin the Black Knight, who whipped out a pencil.

"How about a magic trick?" Kevin slyly asked the Mandalorians. "I'm gonna make this pencil...disappear..."

The Mandalorians started shooting at him again. Kevin vanished into a pillar of smoke and out stepped three Kevin's, who all rushed them and were all promptly shot at...and were revealed to be holograms.

They frantically shot at the column of smoke, which had only expanded, and some sort of hooked rope-dagger was flung out, wrapping around his legs and forcibly dragging him into the pillar of controlled smoke before he could frantically cut it.

The other Mandalorians opened fire on the Column of smoke, which seemingly didn't shift or drift, flowing upward unnaturally, closing the distance while firing.

The smoke dissipated and they stared at their dead compatriot, who had gotten his head cut off. They looked upward.

The Dead Mandalorian was up there also, hanging from the neck by a rope dagger buried in a support beam.

Too late, they realized their deception and tried to aim down...only to be wrong about that also...as the hanging Mandalorian vanished in a heatwave like shimmer to be replaced by Kevin who dropped down on the first of the three, snapping his neck and hurling his dead body into the attackers, crashing one into a wall a impaling one through an armor gap.

As the last of the Maw Mandalorians in the rest of this particular section were dispatched, Kevin walked up to the remaining victim who had had her ribs cracked and could barely breathe.

(Shao Kahn: FINISH HER!)

Kevin ripped off her helmet, snorted at the woman underneath, took out his pencil and brutally jammed it into her eye eraser first, piercing all the way into the brain. If didn't kill her, but instead lobotomized her.

"Presto..." Kevin sneered, hating all Maw because he had lost Family to them once. "It's gone..."

They began checking for casualties. Four Model 3's and two chaplains dead. Model 2's and ones still going strong. The one with the package was undamaged so far.

They had to keep moving. Likely more reinforcements would soon arrive.

Meanwhile...

The Advanced Model 1 leading the team to the Path Engine section soon came under attack herself, via a pair of Sith Lords.

Whole sections of the pathway were torn up and flung as shrapnel at her and the other Mechanical Nuetralizers, forced to dodge the lethal projectiles while the two Advanced Models attempted to close the distance, with dozens of Maw Soldiers, station security all swarming their position.

The Black Knight that had come with them, Ben, was swatting aside dozens of projectiles with his Katana as he moved towards them, given covering fire by the Model 3 escorts that relentlessly poured streams of Laser fire in their direction while Ben somehow conjured a wall of smoke that obscured their vision and momentarily confused them before their high tech equipment allowed them to compensate and fire through it...but Ben had already reached them, his dark Katana moving viciously through the crowds of fighters as the Advanced Models engaged the Sith Pair, who could only telekinetically grab and hurl them around with max focus applied to the task. But they quickly realized they were in extreme danger.

There's no bones to break on an Advanced Model 1. No Organs to fry. No life to drain. No vein to bleed. Their bodies are naturally resistant to Lightsabers and the Force. Every usual trick except raw brute force bordered on ineffective because of this.

The Advanced Models are not as well known as the other forms of Nuetralizer. That is because there are incredibly few people who survived direct encounters, DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran and Starlin Rand Starlin Rand and Lief Lief due to special circumstances. Starlin, because he had started to creep into badass territory and leveled up enough. Eliphas, because he was being trained by Starlin, and Erskine, because he was hardcore badass who had leveled well past 50 and had put a ton of perk points into Stamina and One Handed. I'm not sure what his charisma stat is, but so greatly was he respected for this feat the Advanced Models had sent him an extremely rare bottle of Cladhan anonymously, so its probably an 8 or 9. I'll accept 7 at the lowest.

Ben severed limbs and broke necks, caved faces in, beheaded people. It was geyser blood everywhere as the Nuetralizers fought, striking down those who would dare stand against them.

The pair of Sith Lords finally had their luck run out when they were out parried in their duel by the Advanced Model 1's arms, which had been formed into blades, slashing them apart at high speed. Ben took an explosive knife and hammer it into the skull of a Sith Lord who had been among the Maw hoardes, and whose ambush had occupied his time after viciously butchering a few squads. The explosion sent brains everywhere.

He saw one Mawite attempting to flee and seemed to demonstrate telekinesis by somehow pulling him back towards him with a hand gesture (it was repulsor equipment in his armor but he did it with such unsettling skill one would have extreme trouble telling the difference between it and an honest to goodness Force Pull.

"Wait!" The Mawite screamed, even as his blood oath to Solipsis burned into his body. "I was brainwashed! Tort--"

"I believe you..." Ben replied coldly, beheading him.

"It appears your training program has been most rewarding!" one of the Advanced Models complimented.

"Better living through Badassery..." Ben replied. "C'mon, we don't have time to waste."

Meanwhile...

A collision alarm sounded as the Leviathan of Danuta partly scraped the Fatalis for a few seconds, but left a two hundred meter long gash on the outer side of the hull, taking out a few Torpedo Arrays. One of the Grievous Class Destroyers finally suffered too much Damage and had a reactor breach, exploding catastrophically. Another House Io Star Destroyer and a Battle Cruiser were destroyed, breaking apart.

Hadrian had no time to mourn the dead. Xiphos had explained it all very clearly and honestly to her citizens: The Avatar must be destroyed, whatever the cost.

The Leviathan and the remaining Cruisers and Destroyers in Battle Group A, along with the Sarka Frigates, continued firing their energy Torpedoes at the Fatalis as they passed over it, sustaining more fire from it's defenses and other ships, but withering amounts of Energy Torpedo fire still came for the hull, and the Ion Bombs kept launching, trying to overwhelm the Fatalis ECM ability to deactivate explosives through sheer, vicious saturation bombardment. Another Grievous Class Destroyer was lost, descending into the hull of the Fatalis itself, it's pilots desperately trying to use it to hit any large weapon they could find while they were still capable of steering.

As the Leviathan of Danuta began to clear the length of the Fatalis, Hadrian at last gave the command to try and set off the various Advanced Spread Proton Munitions they had released in front of the craft, while launching more Ion Pulse missiles as the Leviathan slowly made a turn as it reached the back end of the Fatalis, Solar Ionization Cannons and miniaturized Planetary Turbolaser Cannons were aimed at the engines if the Fatalis, while the other Battle Cruisers on Battle Group A, now having directly arrived above it's wings, their magnificent design allowing them to take Multiple hits from multiple craft and still remain a dangerous, dangerous threat, now firing point blank at its hull with Energy Torpedoes and Rail Cannons.

The Leviathan and the House Io Star Destroyers still in the fight at last began firing on the engines of the Fatalis. Pouring an Alpha strike attack to try and overwhelm any protection a single engine might have had...

Meanwhile...

The Nuetralizers on the ground had begun to be bogged down in the swamp, just as The @Mongrel had hoped. They had already lost dozens and several tanks had been exploded by ambush from those worm like soldiers with too much teeth. Big, angry animals sweapt aside Model 3's and 2's like ten pins in a bowling alley.

Two Seismic Tanks began making their way to separate sections, released by the Rhand Class Cruiser, which unleashed another barrage on the grounded Star Destroyer, sending out more Energy Torpedoes. One was headed to Akar Kesh, and was flanked by Nuetralizer TIE's strafing the ground with fire along with Juggernaut War Droids in the thousands, who made long jumps, blasting Mawite Soldiers from above with their built in Pulse-Wave Rifles and Shatter Beams for up close work. They were shot out of the sky in the dozens, but there were so many in the sky and on the ground and the Model 2's and 3's beginning to rapidly learn the ambush patterns of the Lugabra, that they began to use grenades in the swamps, blasting the wormy monsters. Whole Squads of Model 2's and 3's began to inflict saturation fire on the larger beasts, while their assault shuttles from above rained down missiles.

And that was when the Rhand Class and it's crew began to unleash the explosive mini drones in their storage.

They flew out in swarms, guided by computers, flying into large clusters of armored Maw Squads and detonating when they reached them, potentially inflicting heavy damage on them.

Ted, The Collage, The Conjoined, and the Model 1's that had survived the crash skulked through the battlefield, moving between wrecks, sniping or strangling with the Dark Side as necessary.

The Collage found a dying Padawan, smiled, and took time breaking the young girl's Skeleton with the Dark Side, telekinetically shutting her mouth so she couldn't scream. Ted felt no sympathy. It was because of Jedi incompetence and hesitance that had allowed foes like the Bryn'adul and the Maw to grow so powerful to begin with, and ruin so many lives.

As far as Ted was concerned, the Jedi Order was simply reaping what it had sown with it's constant poor judgement and arrogance. It was an Irony really, just how similar House Io and the Maw were in this regard in terms of how they perceived Jedi, but while one was agitated enough by it to believe in the madness of literally ending the universe out of frustration with the system, the other's Hatred of the Order was much more personal, embedded as a murderous grudge in every First Generation Organic Citizen who fled "civilized" society, unable to bear their arrogance, and the corruption of the Government those arrogant people served so blindly. At least with House Io, the leadership never bothered to hide how crazy and deranged the upper echelon, especially the Matriarch, actually was. No attempt was ever made to deceive the citizen as to the nature of its most bloodthirsty allies, nor did it try to sugarcoat anything they did to make it palatable to the masses. If anything, the Citizenry --while not outright encouraged--was allowed to become as brutal, and people looked the other way at lunacy unless it was hazardous to other Citizens or interfered with House Goals.

House Io, in short, was a Society with almost no filters. And yes, the result was nearly as demented as you might expect.

"We need that Nuke. All we gotta do is plant it in enough traffic..." he grunted as he hefted his Battle Scout Rifle, loaded with explosive rounds as the College's flesh shuddered, sucking out the life force of the dying Padawan.

"I know where it is. I even have a good idea of where to use it..." The Collage surmised as the flesh on her face stopped writhing.

"It's about three hundred meters from here. I think we should use it on the Tho-Yor Solipsis seems to be using to channel his rit--"

A flash of lightning as the terrible Force Storms on the surface picked up and suddenly the Collage, the Conjoined, and the Model 1's had turned to complete stone. Only Ted was left unharmed by the warping of reality.

"Ted..." called out a familiar voice that froze the Citizen Soldier to the Bone, even as Arianna Belasko, channeling the personality of The United, conjured a massive water tornado that caught and ripped apart dozens and dozens of Maw at a time, watery spears coming down to impale unlucky Mawites and their war beasts, or try to anyway in the distance.

Ted turner not quite believing what he heard.

Then he saw her.

It was his wife, beautiful, with chocolate hair and sun tanned skin and blue eyes, clad in a dark green cat suit. She held a Lightsaber.

"It can't be..." Ted muttered, staggering backward. "You're dead...I saw you die. The Bryn'adul ripped you apart and ate you..."

"Why have you done these terrible things, my husband? Why do you permit such evil?"

"They murdered you. They murdered our children..." Ted breathed, staggering back through the swamp, getting out his Citizen Energy Sword, it's flat purple blade flashing into existence, it's hum similar to that of an electric shaver.

"How are you still alive?"

"Where I am from...I was never ripped apart..." she said sadly. "You were...and I became a Jedi to fight for those who had been wronged like we were..."

"You're not her. You're not my Danielle..." Ted hissed, angling his blade.

Danielle flashed on her blue, double bladed lightsaber.

"I cannot permit this to continue. You must stop. House Io is crazy no matter the reality it forms in. You're grief has driven you to madness, husband."

Ted angled his blade defensively.

"I would suffer the death of Nar Kreeta and my family a thousand times. I would rather die in agony then accept any reality where you joined hands with people who are the second most responsible for the death of our family. (Hulk Smash Vulcan: 7000 XP)"

Danielle from...elsewhere...sighed.

The pair rushed each other, Ted to silence this twisted reflection of his past, Danielle to end Ted's suffering.

Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr

Alessandra Io Alessandra Io
 
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