Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Invasion Technologic | SO Invasion of GA Held Woostri - Objective One

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The Galactic Alliance has fought a desperate war to hold control of the Ado Sector, but with its supply lines cut off, it has begun to struggle under the logistical weight of war. While the Jedi Strike Force meant to cripple the Sith's own infrastructure had been broken in their vain attempt at breaking the war machine, the First Legion, Darth Empyrean's own force led by the Mors Mon, began to move its fleets on their preordained warpath.

First came the breaking of the Var Hagen sector, as its numerous worlds were subjugated to the dead Emperor's might. Vondarc and Alakatha burned, each in their own right, as they were stripped of their freedoms and subjugated to the wake of Empyrean's dreadnought. The Inquisition followed closely behind his Legion as it marched from planet to planet, driving entire populations into subservience to the Sith and their goals.

It was at Woostri that a fallback force had formed, carefully drawing a line in the sand of the Rimma Trade Route. The Alliance held vast amounts of equipment, manpower, and ships in reserves - for years it had been the dominant power in the galaxy, and it called upon its resources to stop the Sith surge north. The Woostrians, intelligent and industrious, aided in this effort - as they saw the chaos of the Sith's Empire, that lack of order, the violence in every step it took from the shadows.

Automated defenses had been activated, great towers of protection domed their cities in shields for the coming bombardments, and orbital cannons calibrated their aim in the final moments before the battle began. The 10th Sector Armada 'Dawnflower Star' stood poised and ready to stop the Dead God's Chariot in its tracks, and all the Alliance and the Empire looked to Woostri for the first signs of where this war would go.

A victory could mean a short war in the Sith's favor, but a loss spelt out that this would be a long and violently costly war fought tooth and nail for the inch.

Both prepare their ships, and as the last mechanisms begin to come to life, the Force began its screech - a terrible sound, victimized and abused the Force wretched as the Mors Mon ripped reality in its favor. One hundred and twenty kilometers of war trudged from a gash in space that stood even larger, white tinged and frayed as it struggled to sustain itself. Around the great ship, a storm began to form as large as a moon, and its docking bays began to release its battlecruisers.

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Objective One: Autonomy​


Woostri has formed in its molten core a great series of complex automated defense measures to protect the world from invasions just like this. Deep in the ocean, at depths many fathoms lower than any had dared tread, stood the primary control center for all of Woostri's defenses. It was here that a gathering of Woostri's highest experts in military technology prepared themselves for a long siege - kept aloft by their tactical mindset, and logical aptitude.

But the alarms came just as the last tram made its way there and shut down. Sonar had begun to pick up the presence of foreign, undefined, and unknown vessels descending at a rapid pace. They fluctuated in size, a clear indication of faulty sensor masking according to one of the Woostrian Experts. It would prove correct as the initial interception droids were eliminated one by one - only for six great shapes to form on the screens.

The Sith had launched siege submersibles from orbit, great diving vessels meant for this exact defense. The Woostrians send out an all-hands call for roaming fleets and wolf packs to intercept, but the Sith trudge ever closer. If the Central Control Unit is compromised, if it is lost to the Sith, the entire world could have its defenses begin to shut down and fail.

Sith: Latch onto the ocean floor facility, and carve your way into its belly. You need to take control of this facility and turn its guns onto the Alliance fleet in orbit - anything less than victory will mean innumerable casualties.

Alliance: If the Woostrian Complex falls, it could spell the end of the Alliance's well-planned advantage. The Woostrians cry out for their wolf packs to intercept these siege ships, but you know sooner or later the Sith will have one land. Hold them off for as long as you can, and if they touch foot on the base - make sure it's their last.


OOC Notes:​

Ally slots must be requested and will be approved by the Admin teams of each respective faction.
An optional invasion posting template has been made for this invasion and you can grab the code here:
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Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

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The weight of the coming battle pressed against Valery's senses, a familiar tension thrumming through the Force as she prepared herself for the fight ahead. But before she turned her full attention to Woostri's defense, there were others she needed to reach.

Tapping into her comms, she opened a channel to each of the Strike Team Leaders.

First, she made contact with Strike Team Windu.


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To Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos
"Knight Lidos, this is Grandmaster Noble. Every siege vessel you take down is one less we have to fight inside the Complex. You and your team are our first line of defense — make it count."

"Keep me updated. If anything slips through, we'll be waiting."


Next, she reached out to the leaders of Task Force Xesh.


To Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
"Jonyna, this is Grandmaster Noble. The Mors Mon is a monster, but you've got the best of the best up there. I have faith in you but report once you've made progress or need assistance."

To Amelia von Sorenn Amelia von Sorenn
"Amelia, it's Val. You know what to do — take that dreadnought down before it does any real damage. I'll handle the ground, you handle the stars. Good luck up there, and Force be with you."
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Her former Padawan, Iris Arani Iris Arani , was the next to receive a message.

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To Iris Arani Iris Arani
"Iris, it's Val. Like old times, huh?"

"They're going to need you up there. Your battle meditation could turn the tide — keep them steady, keep them strong."

"I'll see you again soon. May the Force be with you."


Near the vital datacenter, Ran Serys would soon receive word as well.


To Ran Serys Ran Serys
"Knight Serys, this is Grandmaster Noble. The Alliance is counting on you. That database isn't just numbers — it's the foundation for hundreds of worlds. We cannot let the Sith take it."

"You've got good people with you — trust them, lead them, and hold the line."


"If anything goes wrong, you call me directly. We don't lose today."
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Katherine Holt, a recently Knighted Jedi would be the next to receive her orders.

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To Katherine Holt Katherine Holt
"Knight Holt, this is Grandmaster Noble. I know this is a lot — leading a strike team, holding the line against the Sith — but you earned that saber on your belt. And I trust you to see this through."

"The Sith cannot reach that database. Hold them in the streets, keep them from pushing forward. You've got good people at your side — lead them well."


"I believe in you, Katherine. Now go show them why."


The air inside the Woostrian Complex was still — for now.

But Valery could feel them. Thousands. A storm of darkness pushing toward them, some Sith little more than shadows in the tide, others burning hot and sharp in the Force. And some were coming straight for them. For her. For him.

She smirked.

Standing beside her, Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble was quiet, but she didn't need words. Their Dyad pulsed between them, steady and strong. She could feel his presence like an anchor, solid and unwavering, meeting hers in perfect balance. She turned her head slightly, her fiery gaze catching his, and without a word, she reached down and took his hand.

Warm. Steady. Hers.

She gave it a squeeze, playful, confident.

"You ready?"

Her voice was light, teasing — but behind it was something deeper. The quiet understanding that they'd been here before. The two of them, standing together against the darkness. They had brought down the Brotherhood of the Maw, fought against the Dark Empire, and resisted countless Mandalorian attempts to bring down the Alliance.

And as the Sith forces closed in, she knew they'd do it again.








 
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Seconds after drop...​
The submersibles shook and groaned under the every increasing pressure. They'd been orbitally dropped, and that meant it was a rough landing no matter how many inertia dampeners and straps they used to hold people down. At best, they'd get a headache - at worst, they were about to need back surgery. Still, it was only a thought for a moment as reality began to set in.​
Underwater shots rang out, and shockwaves from hits against plate reverberated in a way it never would in space. There was a pressure there, and the waves carried the sound faster and harder than it would in air. It forced Meritum to grit his teeth as he considered the consequences of a well placed shot. The Sith knew just as well as he did that this wasn't going to be easy; but it was critical.​
Unstrapping himself, he moved towards the command module: a cramped thing no bigger than a kitchen and twice as full. Looking out of the digital viewport, he inquired;​
"How long until we reach the bottom?"​
"Too long," the man replied, covered in a full pressurized suit. Meritum wished he had one right now.​
"Submersible 3, 8, and 12 have all been breached. They're gone."​
Another bit of bad news before the entire pod shook with the violent uproar of another round hitting them. They'd already lost hundreds of men, and they weren't but minutes into the operation. This was going to be one of the most costly battles the Sith had ever had - but it was his job now to make sure it was worth every life they spent.​
"Focus on keeping us alive. I want us down there in five minutes. Drop depth charges to disable what we can."​
And so it began - falling straight into a maw full of ravenous, serrated teeth in the form of gun batteries and torpedos.​

 
OBJECTIVE 1
Allies:
SO and allied forces
Enemies: GA and allied forces
Tags: Caelan Valoren Caelan Valoren
Location: Sith Siege Submersible

Darkness enveloped Lirka Ka. The horn of war had been called once more, so long had she been trapped away from this most holy of act. And now, she had returned with a vengeance. The Galaxy had been kind to the abominable Kainite, foul power swelled within her now. The byproduct of her damnation, a marriage to the lord Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex of blood and flesh. His darkness coursing through her veins like molten ichor, the brand upon her forehead burning as if aflame as the crucible of war neared ever closer.

She had become the Lash of the Kainate, Carnifex's abominable weapon. Such a title left her overflowing with pride and ambition in equal measure, and she intended to share her pride with her fellows. As the submersible crashed into the water, Lirka stood unfazed in the great iron beast's bowels: an assortment of Kainite warriors around her, their eyes drawn upon the mighty Once-Sephi. Her powersuit glistening and polished, recently pressurized to allow her to brave the oceanic depths of this world. And she raved, and cried, a zealous orator calling out to her congregation: rallying them to kill.

"Do it you feel it, faithful!? The power of our Father churns inside of me, for he has blessed me to become apart of him! Gaze upon me and see his visage in my metallic plates! Feel his darkness overwhelm you, for as long as I stand among you he shall be here with you! His envoy! His avatar!"

Lirka prowled over her warriors, like a beast, glowing eye lenses judging each of the would-be-killers gathered before her. Her footfalls heavy and metallic on the floors as she judged those ready to disgorge and bleed this world, to shatter its defenses and see Woostri broken under the unstoppable tide of Darkness the Sith would bring. They would die. They would suffer. They would bleed. So did Primordial Dark decree, the killing fields of this place would see its oceans run red, and Lirka would have it no other way. She continued her bellowing oration, the fires of passion growing stronger inside of her wretched form.

"His Lash! That shall bleed this world in his name! Faithful, do you feel it? He is here with us, for his eyes are my eyes, and my eyes are his eyes! He shall see the work we do here today, and he shall feel the elation of victory! Now join me, warriors, cry out! Awaken the dark powers bestowed upon me!"

She did not need their voices, but she welcomed them regardless. Let the fodder feel important, let them feel but the barest pathetic drops of the blessing she had been given. Lirka looked her head to the sky, raising her arms high in exaltation, and she bellowed to the void, to the skies above Woostri. He would hear her, she knew it to be true.

"
CAAAAAAAARRRRNNNNIFEX! Butcher King, Lord of Black Iron, Our Eternal Father, One-True-Emperor over all! Hear me! Hear your Kin, bound by blood and flesh! Awaken the darkness within me! Awaken your Lash! Feed me a fraction of your might so that this world may burn!"

So did she cry, so did she rave. So did she scream in both love and hate. Carnifex's monster would be free, and she would see a mighty tally reaped this day. The vessel sank deeper now, soon they be let loose upon this world, a ravening horde of killers. Lirka couldn't help but smile underneath her helm at the prospect, she did not need to prove herself to the Jedi, but the Sith? Those who had scorned her, reviled her, despised her for her allegiance to the Butcher King: today they would see just what loyalty could reward.
 
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Relationship Status: It's Complicated
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WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
ALLIES: Allyson Locke Allyson Locke | Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr | Darth Meritum Darth Meritum
ENEMIES: Valery Noble Valery Noble | Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble

The dropship creaked under the crushing weight of Woostri’s endless ocean, groaning like a wounded beast as it plunged through the abyss. Darkness swallowed the vessel broken only by the dim green glow of tactical displays and the ghostly flicker of distant detonations. Columns of bubbles spiraled upward from shattered wrecks far below serving as grim monuments to the slaughter already underway.

Gerwald Lechner stood near the prow, fists clenching with restless energy. His golden eyes narrowed against the oppressive void pressing in from all directions. He hated this, the clinging, crushing cold of the ocean depths. It gnawed at his instincts, cutting him off from the primal connection he craved to the ground, solid and unyielding beneath his feet. The Wolf reached for the place where the ring he had carried on a string around his neck for a decade used to hang. Naedira was alive, but the habit was still there.

Rage drowned discomfort. The sea would not break him. It never had.

"We're approaching the base," the pilot's voice crackled through static. "Five clicks out. Defenses active—torpedo nets, sentry cannons, pressure mines."

"Press through," Gerwald commanded. His voice was low but sharp, carrying the weight of cold certainty. "They need to see us coming."

The dropship lurched as an underwater mine detonated nearby, sending shockwaves rippling through the abyss. Metal groaned under the strain, water hissing against reinforced plating. Sith troopers gripped their restraints tighter, silent but tense. Gerwald's focus never wavered.

This mission wasn’t about conquest. It was about distraction. His advance, violent and unmistakable, was bait to draw enemy attention away from the covert strike teams infiltrating the fortress from its blind side. Gerwald knew his role well, cause chaos, break lines, and ensure the defenders were too preoccupied with survival to notice their impending doom.

Gerwald reached out over the comms to Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr and Darth Meritum Darth Meritum , a recent face which had recently merged from the shadowy wake of Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean .

<<< "We are about to make contact. I will draw their attention." >>>

There was no need for words as he reached out through the expanse of ocean and atmosphere to locate the presence of Srina Talon Srina Talon . Finally his mind settled back on where he had reached for the ring. This objective would have been exponentially more successful were Naedira Darcrath Naedira Darcrath by his side. They were a unit, and worked as one in a way Gerwald had never seen achieved by anyone else. The only comfort he held was the amulet he had gifted her would allow her to feel his presence as though he was at her side even though he was lightyears away.

The ship crested a jagged ridge of volcanic rock, the glowing outline of the enemy base emerging ahead. It sprawled across the seafloor like a metal leviathan, bristling with defense towers and reinforced docking bays. Automated turrets swiveled toward the approaching dropship, spitting bolts of plasma that hissed through the water like molten lightning.

"Breach in thirty seconds!" the pilot barked.

Gerwald’s lips curled into a snarl. The suffocating depths be damned. This was just another battlefield. And as always he would tear through whatever stood in his path.

The dropship slammed into the docking bay's outer barrier, hydraulic clamps locking onto the hull. The ramp blasted open with a deafening hiss, seawater flooding in before containment fields snapped into place. Steam curled through the breach as the ramp hit the deck. Blaster fire erupted from entrenched defenders, plasma bolts illuminating the dark bay in violent bursts.

Gerwald was already moving, a blur of claws and fury. He leaped into the fray, his first strike cleaving through a defender's chest. Blood and sparks mingled as the man crumpled to the floor. Another soldier raised a blaster. They were too slow. Gerwald’s weapon found flesh, tearing through armor with brutal precision.

Behind him, Sith reinforcements poured from the dropship, explosions rocking the bay as thermal charges shattered defensive emplacements.

The fortress trembled under the onslaught, alarms blaring through every corridor. Water leaked from fractured bulkheads, hissing against exposed wiring. Defenders fought with frantic desperation, unaware of the real battle elsewhere.

Gerwald’s growl rumbled through the chaos as he carved a bloody path forward. Every kill, every explosion, every desperate shout from the enemy was a testament to the success of his role. The sea might crush ships and drown armies, but it would not claim the Dread Wolf. Even here, beneath the suffocating weight of Woostri’s depths, Gerwald Lechner was a force of nature. And when this fortress crumbled, the ocean would remember who had bled it dry.

 
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Malum kept an eye on his timepiece, as he breathed out, the whisps of cold air visible by the naked eye, as even nestled within the aquatic depths of the Thranta Mothership, the engines had to be turned off, along with most other systems, lest their heat signatures be given away to the Alliance forces paranoidly patrolling the area.

Though, he supposed considering that Sith forces were currently assailing them, it could not entirely be called paranoia.

The timepiece clicked over, the moment of assault loomed over, and if everything went to plan, the Wolf's assault would have begun, drawing their attention away from the impending Tsis'Kaar attack on the weakest point of their line, even weaker if the Emperor's Wrath had successfully drawn their forces away to the underwater hangers.

Still, he waited, no plan did survive contact with the enemy after all.

He thought idly of Zachariah, Helix, and even... Alisteri, Quinn too, all of them were up on the surface, descending down to the only landmass that was certain on this water world, they would all be safe, that much he had to be certain of, but still... the worry blossomed as easily as a flower in spring. He wished at least one of them were here with him...

...He might have been certain of their safety.

Instead, it had to be simply trust that tempered his suffering, his worries, and his fear. They had to be safe, they simply had to be.

Instead, as the circumstances had permitted there was at least one amongst them that which he was glad to have at his side, his cousin, his... brother, in all the ways which mattered, Trayze, had been ever quick to volunteer himself for this operation, still technically an acolyte, even with all their training, this would be in many ways a proving ground. For all that he might be technically an acolyte, a knight strummed within his capability to battle, and he felt within the Force, the presence of familiar signatures... perhaps an opportunity for a rematch.

Not that he especially looked forward to such a possibility, but as ever adversity added lustre to their great enterprise.

He was not the only familiar face aboard the vessel, one of his Tsis'Kaar, Zanami was aboard too. Despite the fact she was one of his, she was a stranger, one to not be underestimated, for despite her childish appearance, a Sithspawn created by... Adeline, was not to be underestimated, it would only be a question of where her loyalties would lay in the end, and how she would prove herself in this impending assault.

And finally, the one who was not one of his in any manner, Lunara Azure, once Crown Princess to the Azure Imperium, and once adjutant to the Exarch of the Confederacy of Independent Systems... in other words, the once adjutant to the Sith Empress. She had a lofty position, and the ear of many of importance, and Malum was not quick to dismiss the fact that it seemed as of recent days she served the Emperor's Executioner. The fact she was placed here was no accident, Malum simply did not know if it was a show of distrust or favour by the Wolf. Still, as ever, he was not one to complain about the presence of a beautiful woman.

But it would be this cadre, that would make for assault of this underground base, that would break the Alliance's defences up top, and turn orbital batteries upon the Alliance fleet, it would be here that victory would be found...

...If all went to plan.

The timepiece ticked over, as Malum allowed himself another breath, the cold mist rising in front of his face, as exited the depths of his mind, the weight of impending battle finally settled over him. The sounds of explosions would not reach all the way out here, but its rumblings were impossible to ignore.

The battle had begun, and it was their time to join it.


"It is time, begin the assault."

The word filtered through the legion of Leviathan and Kraken droids present, as it spread out to the various other Thranta Motherships present outside the steel coffin that were currently lying in, the engines brimmed to life, as subsystems were switched back on, the artificial warmth denied them suddenly present, as from outside viewports one would witness the flight of Thranta Spawns and Swarm Droids beginning their charge upon the facility, soon to be joined by the true attack.

His masked eyes fell upon his gathered cadre, as he tapped onto his side, they all felt the impending dread of a battle soon joined, their masked leader attempting some show of... distraction?


"I hope I need not remind anyone to have an Enviro-Shield Generator upon them? In the chaos of battle, if you are shunted out into the water, there will be very little chance of rescue without them." He was unsure if it was him, or they, he was trying to distract.

As they closed in on their target.


 
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Tag: Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr Jenn Kryze Jenn Kryze Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos Kuhbee Kuhbee
34th Hellstompers, 2nd Armor Company:​
  • x7 Leviathan Above Water AA Platforms
    • Appetite for Destruction
    • Diver Down
    • Purple Rain
    • Raising Hell
    • Sign O' The Times
    • Ghost In The Machine
    • Pyromania
  • x8 Krakana Subfighters
    • Speak Softly II
    • Divine Intervention
    • Rolling Thunder II
    • Apocalypse Now
    • Iron Side II
    • Heavy Machinery II
    • De-Escalator
    • Yellow Submarine
  • x6 GAMA Jaguar Submarines
    • Leonardo
    • Donatello
    • Michelangelo
    • Raphael
    • April
    • Splinter
  • x3 Squads of Marines
    • "Tsunami"
    • "Twister"
    • "Volcano"
To say this was unconventional for the 34th, was putting it lightly. Major Yanma sat uncomfortably in the seat of his Jaguar, prepping for what came next.

As they dived, they saw the sith deploying battle droids, and prepped for the war that came.

The GADF's 34th employed a very simply strategy to most engagements. Bring the bigger gun.

In this case, it was battle droids versus submersible armor, Krakana subfighters pushing forward and opening up a flurry of blaster bolts as they zipped towards, then past the men. Yamna had made sure that the pilots of these subs had some sort of Starfighter training before deployment, as it was the closest thing they could train for to using these subfighters.

Meanwhile, Yamna pushed forward, firing their Hammer Batteries at the heavy deployment sub the Sith seemed to be using.

Hit them hard, then zip away.

It wasn't the best strategy, but they weren't trained for this.

All Yanma could do was pray.

 
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//: Mors Mon //:
//: Mentions: Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex //:​
Hours Before Drop

The shadows were always considered home. Within them, she felt safe, protected, and away from the condemning eyes of the Order. Everything that she was and had become was an effort to preserve and destroy the dark side. It could have been better for Loske to have cut her down on Bastion. Maybe she should have taken the coward's way out of prison? Instead, she lived and persevered only to see what she gave everything to protect become the lie she always knew it had been.

Quiet footsteps moved against the metallic flooring of the Mors Mon, the shadowed figure's presence melding with the others preparing for war. She had been summoned by the one she fought so desperately to erase. The abandoned and forgotten relic of the former Alliance stopped and watched the army of the Empire. Every piece knew its place, and they knew they were being sent to war where they could die. There were no lies of grand heroism or peace; they knew this was what they had to do.

Peace was a lie. One that she had finally realized.

Stepping into the darkened room, a figure stood looming - one that caused fear and destroyed anything that stood between him and his ambition. A King that had entered the Shadow's life, upturning it and starting her on the path that brought her here.

Silence beyond the breathing of the Mors Mon encompassed them as they stood. Two bitter enemies, one of the light and the other of Shadow. He turned, facing her, and she knew what was to be done. A nod and Allyson Locke's voice echoed within the darkened chamber.

"As you wish, old friend."


//: Objective 3 //:
//: Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner //: Valery Noble Valery Noble //: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble //:
//: Equipment in Sig //:​

The shuttle rumbled, twisting and turning to avoid oncoming attacks. Allyson was unhappy to be outside, but it was better than swimming her way down. Which, in turn, would have been a terrible idea knowing the layout of defenses the Alliance had set up.

It would have been better for her to have slipped inside the drop ship; at least there, she would have been more comfortable, safer, and not have to dodge stray bolts of fire. Each twist and turn of the dropship nearly bucked the Corellian off its back. Her hands gripped tightly as Allyson thanked the stars for a mission where she masqueraded as a champion rancor matador. Beneath the mask, several bubbles filtered out as she screamed as a bolt nearly took her head off.

She cursed Kaine Zambrano.

Suddenly, the entire transport shook violently, and people fell from their seats. There was a heavy jolt, and Allyson held on even tighter than before as she screamed under the mask and continued to curse this mission she was given. She instantly wished she stayed home with the newest Lady Velvet book. Maybe retirement wasn't as bad as it sounded.

Her body slammed back into the hull of the dropship as its movements stopped. It had docked, breeching the facility as planned. Several people filed out of the ship, weapons drawn to begin their mission of distraction and thinning the initial defenses. Allyson saw this as her moment, and she crawled off the ship. Any semblance of solid ground at this point was a blessing, and the Corellian could kiss it if she had more time. With the flood of armies tied up with each other, the woman quickly discarded the wet suit and the small helmet that helped her breathe through her traumatizing adventure.

It didn't take long for the Shadow to find Gerawald in the crowd, and she quickly moved, weaving through the crowds of people engaged in combat. Allyson slowed her movements within range, keeping him in front of her as he cut down the enemy forces. Each step was mirrored, and the Corellian appreciated his fierce and quick approach. No one was left to suffer their fate. The mission target remained in her sight as she never left his side.

Something deeply familiar waited for her, the Force called weaving its threads of fate.
 
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Gear: In Sig

"The Jedi are not our friend, the Jedi Serina Calis Serina Calis was not our friend back in the gangley prison facility. We hear your thoughts, now is not the time...."

Overhead, methodically positioned throughout the submersible so no excuses could be borne from miscommunications, a lone voice toned with commandment breaking that spell haunting her mind. Confused eyes looked about, the normal mind following in-step.

That voice, so familiar and overwhelming comforting, brought to the realization why she was here, and why that voice was holding court. That pretty man with black hair who prided galas and dropping speeches, but could not recollect his name. "JedI," she whispered into the darkness mingling with a stale oily smell puffing tragically through the engine room, the only solace Zanami could consume., away from the others.

"Jedi...Jedi...Jedi...," the cold, callous voices projected in unison. Slamming hard on the hull of the underwater vehicle, she held the splayed left hand, retracting a razor sharp claw from the index finger; dragging it down in jagged motions, leaving a crooked smiled artistically drawn upon the metal of the hull.

And then all was silent. The voice on the outside, those on the inside promptly came to an end. That bony claw slithered back from whence it came, and the entire body relaxed.

Turning around, brown eyes blossoming; an innocent smile pasted across her lips, she casually walked toward the starting point. By now, that black-haired man probably was ready for phase two. And she didn't want to disappoint Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr .


Allies: Trayze Tesar Trayze Tesar / Lunara Azure Lunara Azure / Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner / Darth Meritum Darth Meritum / Allyson Locke Allyson Locke / Lirka Ka Lirka Ka / Domina Prime Domina Prime

Enemies: Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos / Kuhbee Kuhbee / Valery Noble Valery Noble / Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble / Caelan Valoren Caelan Valoren



 


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Why was it always war?

Everywhere he looked in the galaxy someone wished to make war. Even the alliance itself seemed hell bent on making war wherever possible. It bothered him that no one, it seemed, had any desire to coexist. He understood it was hard to coexist with people like the Sith who wanted nothing but to cause destabilization, or death, or mayhem, or a host of other undesirable things. That didn't meant they needed to be going and seeking war, though, did it? Maybe it didn't matter. War came to them even if they didn't want it. It never failed to do so.

"Bwoo-beep? Dwoop-dweep bwoo-dwoop, bwee-dwoop beep-dwoop?"

Caelan looked down at the droid that sat at his feet. The BD unit was concerned, and rightly so, about the fact that they were far below the waters surface, and inside of a potential death trap.

"I suppose we'd find a way out," he said. "I'm sure there are submersibles we could use for escape if it comes down to it."

Not to mention they weren't alone down there. Valery Noble Valery Noble and Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble , along with several other members of the alliance were present. If anything went sideways, they'd find a way to get out of it all. He was just thankful their intelligence had been correct and that Woostri had been the correct site of the attack so that their preparations were correct. He'd hate to have been there, ready to defend it, and have the enemy show up somewhere else entirely.

He held his helm under his arm as he looked out a viewport into the waters beyond. Somewhere out there were sith forces descending towards them. They came with speed. They came with hate. They came with anger and hatred. Even with his limited sensing skills he could feel it through the sheer volume. It wasn't the first time he had faced them and it wasn't likely to be the last time. It was, however, one of the first times when he felt a resolve to ensure that he won no matter what. The time for losses was over. People's lives were at stake and he couldn't afford to allow them to be lost.

"Fate, when we engage them, I want you to remain back and record and analyze everything. Look for weaknesses in their defenses and tactics and feed them to me. Don't engage unless I request it."

"Bwoo-dweet."

Lifting his helm, he affixed it into place and then strode to where the others waited. There he would remain in position as well, waiting until the point he would need to engage the enemy in defense of the complex, freedom, and peace. The boy was gone. Only the King remained.


ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Lirka Ka Lirka Ka
 
OBJECTIVE I
Allies: SO and Allies
Enemies: GA and Allies

The Galaxy had a way of making sure people who were opposites would always find each.

It had to be war. War was how the Galaxy was shaped, how the strong rose above the weak, how Primordial Dark would determine who was worthy to live and who would be forced into its cold embrace. While Caelan Valoren Caelan Valoren sat upon Woostri, pondering peace and coexistence, Lirka ranted and raved in an engine of war. Crying out to her Master had fueled the Once-Sephi with dark desire, the energies of their union surged through her once more.

It was agonizing.

Her body twitched and convulsed, forced to accept a power she could barely control. Tears of black ichor welled in her eyes and ran down her face, and in her agony so did the warriors around her cry out in zealous glee. Even they could feel it now, the Butcher King was with them. Death surrounded them outside the confines of their metal prison, submersibles exploding into shrapnel with their occupants lost to the sea forever.

But not them.

They would survive, because they were guided by the Dark Side to murder, to ravage, to bring death, destabilization, and mayhem to this world. Lirka’s body adjusted after her violent spasms, finally the orator had been rewarded for her devotion. A damnable existence as a creature outside the force, yet surging with the primal powers of her Master. The dark side swirling around her like the blood that now tainted the water of this world.

The siege engine finally made contact with the facility, its great tools cutting through the metals of the walls as it rammed itself into Woostri’s defensive masterwork to disgorge its foul passengers. Klaxons wailed inside the submersible, a call to war, for the warriors within to grab their weapons and prepare themselves to die and kill for their Lords. Lirka took grasp of her might great-machete, letting the weapon flame to life with its electro plasma filament as the doors clanged open, and the warriors of the Sith stormed out with blaster fire and blades, and at their head?

Lirka Ka, the tip of the spear, the envoy of the Butcher King, Lash of the Kainate. Her blade raised to the enemy, and so did she bellow, a single cry to rally the Empire to their holy purpose.

“War!”

And with that, she was off. A rampaging metallic beast, rushing forward like the tide with blade in hand hungering for the blood of Jedi and their fellows.
 


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Kuhbee's heart thundered in his chest as he gripped the hilt of his lightsaber, his large brown fur bristling with nervous energy. The young Wookiee, barely more than a cub in the grand scheme of the galaxy, had always dreamed of becoming a Jedi Knight, but now, standing on the precipice of his first battle, that dream felt like a distant, unreachable star. His eyes were wide, the weight of his duty settling heavily on his broad shoulders. The Sith were coming. They were attacking Woostri, and the danger was real. Kuhbee could feel it in his bones.

The noise of the Alliance getting ready filled the air around him, a cacophony of engines and orders being shouted across the bridge of their ship. Jedi and military personnel scrambled, preparing for the coming storm. Strike Team Windu was among those who had been tasked with stopping the Sith siege vessels from reaching the Woostrian Complex—a mission that would decide the fate of their people. Kuhbee's fur was matted with sweat, and his breath was shallow, a combination of anxiety and the weight of what was to come.

He had been trained, of course—taught in the ways of the Force under the careful guidance of Jedi Masters—but none of that training could prepare him for the fear gnawing at his insides now. His hand tightened around his lightsaber. He was a padawan. A young one. Not ready for the horrors of war, not ready for the bloodshed that awaited them in the cold expanse of space. But Kuhbee had no choice. The Alliance needed him, the Jedi needed him, and most importantly, Woostri needed him. There was no turning back now.

Zanami Zanami

 
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Location: Ocean - Woostri
Objective: Escort the Siege Submersibles to the Woostrian Complex
Allies: Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr Zanami Zanami
Enemies: Thralrii Hillbolt Thralrii Hillbolt Gress D'ran Gress D'ran

QK-2510 gave a sharp breath as the chilly embrace of the water swallowed her form, causing her cheeks to flush a pinkish shade. Though quite accustomed to the skies, the four months she had spent in aquatic assault training to earn her rating as a seatrooper had given her an affinity for the water. And though it was a thicker medium than air, the muscles she worked while swimming were much the same as the ones she had honed in resisting the immense g-forces produced by her jetpack while flying at speed. In addition, like the skies, the ocean was a three-dimensional space, with danger lurking from above and below.

And yet, the aquatic environment came with its own unique perils.

“Sector is clear. Forming up on the carrier.” QK-2510 spoke up over comms. As she did, the strand-cast turned her gaze towards the looming bulk of the Mothership as it plunged into the depths. Squads of aquatic battle droids surrounded it, forming a protective screen around the craft as the light from the sun slowly fading away with the transition into the mesopelagic zone. All the while, the strand-cast swam alongside it, aquatic repulsorlifts propelling her through the water at speed.

It was only moments later that her sensors lit up with returns from her sonic microphone. Her suit’s systems immediately registered them as an approaching submarine attack force, causing her eyes to light up as a rush of adrenaline surged her senses.

“Contacts closing on my sector! 210 degrees west of my position!” QK-2510 called out, her transmission directed towards those inside the Mothership. The strand-cast leveled her blaster towards the incoming submarines, her targeting system lighting up her HUD to confirm a number of locks. Raising her left arm, she fired a concussion mini-missile at the closest signature before immediately diving down, doing so only seconds before a hail of laser fire filled the space she had occupied only moments prior!


 
And so it began - falling straight into a maw full of ravenous, serrated teeth in the form of gun batteries and torpedos.

The distant boom of underwater detonations rolled through the walls, deep and rhythmic, like war drums pounding in the abyss. The destruction in the depths rattled consoles, sending faint tremors through the reinforced deck beneath Braze's boots. The Sith were coming.

He stood in the control center, watching the digital battlefield unfold across a series of flickering holo-projections. Sonar pings painted the abyssal terrain in ghostly waves, Sith submersibles burning red—too many, moving too fast. Three had already been destroyed, but the others kept pushing through, taking hits and still descending. In minutes, they'd be on top of the base.

"Impact detected. Outer defense perimeter taking sustained fire," a Woostrian officer called out. "They're deploying depth charges to disrupt our torpedo systems."

Braze's jaw tensed. If they got too close, it wouldn't matter how many drones or turrets they had—the Sith would carve their way inside.

A voice cut through the chatter of consoles and relayed commands, steady but edged with urgency.

"Reinforce bulkheads on all external access points. I want pressure-sealed blast doors on lockdown the moment they touch down. Deploy all sentry turrets along the docking trench and inner corridors. If anything forces its way through, we bottleneck them before they reach the control room."

Braze turned back to the main holo-display, just in time to watch another Sith submersible take a direct torpedo hit. The red marker flickered—then disappeared. Four down.

But it wasn't enough.

He exhaled slowly, steadying himself. They were outnumbered. The Sith would land. It wasn't a question of if—only when.

Braze rolled his shoulders, a few pops and clicks emanating from his frame.
Fine. Let them come.

If they thought this would be easy, he'd make sure their last breath in these waters came choking on regret.

He turned on his heel, leaving the control center behind and stepping into the cold, sterile corridors of the facility. Each step carried him deeper into the heart of the base, where the enemy would soon carve their way in, pushing toward their objective with relentless purpose.

As he moved, he pulled the Force tightly around himself, weaving it like a shroud. His presence faded into the background—not erased, but veiled, distorted, hidden within the ebb and flow of the energy that surrounded them all. To any Sith reaching out, he would be a shadow, a ripple lost in the vast ocean of the Force.

His breath was slow. Measured. His body still, yet brimming with the silent readiness of a coiled predator.

The Boy Knight would meet them in battle.

He was outnumbered, young, and small, —but he was not weak.

Braze was fierce. A blade honed through hardship, and sharpened by trials.


Gear

Sabers:
Training lightsaber [Normal] |

Gauntlet Shield [Katar + Shield] |
Corsage [Dueling Foil +Gun] |
Calypso [Hand an a half + Board Saber] |
Sentry [Parrying Dagger] |
Requiem [Light Foil] |
Echo [Two handed with Crossguard] |
Resurgence [Two handed with Crossguard] |
Whirlwind [Chin Kama] |
Twilight [Polearm] |
Nightshade [Throwing Knives]
Hot 'n' Heavy Compensator [ War Maul]
Troublemaker's Trickblade [Dual Spinning Saber / Chakram]
Voice of the Wind Krysteel Sword

Crystals:
Amplification |
Serenity |
Phantom Ghostfire |
Frostheart |
Entropite |
Tiger's Fang |
Mindshatter |
Echos |
Mestare |
Melee: Knife

Ranged:
Fang |
G.O.O. Gun |
Phantom |
Chiru Tranquilizer Rifle|
FFS- Quiver Trigger - Grip / Stock |
FFS- I. S.P.Y. : Scope |
FFS- H.A.R.M. - Shroud

Thowing :
BA-K177 Kamino Saberdarts X15
E.G.G.S. x10 |

Thermal detonator (Class-A thermal detonator) x5 |
G-20 Glop grenade "Impact" x5 |
C-22 fragmentation grenade x5 |
WW-41 CryoBan grenade) X5
Telescopic stun grenade staff
Serenity Flashbang Incense



Equipped Gear:
Neck: Lightveil Circlet | Charms x3 | Amulate |
Chest: Light Armor [Integrated in to armor | Boots | Gauntlets | Mask/Helm | ]
Belt: FFS- Utility Belt
Left Hand:
Compass Ring | BCA - Solid State Hologram Tool Band

Other Items:
Survival Kit |

FSP - Besh ( Advanced Force Suppression Drug )
Sil-Alert Stim
Trauma Care Package
Trauma Kit
Trauma Spray
Aspha Serum
TS-N Healing Serum (For those allergic to Bacta)
Reanimation Serum Aurek
PharmaTech BioStamp
PharmaTech DNA Identi-Kit
Bota M9-A2: Berries
FFS-RIP-Cell: Power Cell |
Vixen's Vault |
In the Zone Compact, Mister, and Lipstick|

Essence of Zeltros DUST Compact|
Lekkuphoira|
S.I.N. Devaronian Blood-Poison Nail Polish|
5 Lbs bag of Thermite |

Ships:
Ashwing - Starfighters
Phantomray Stealth Assault Interceptor Fitted with Werlaara Stealth Suite

Warmount:
Dragon Knight

Guardian:
AX-01 Vanguard Mark I
[Character Bio]



 

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Ally Tag: [SO] Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr | Horus Rhyne Horus Rhyne | Trayze Tesar Trayze Tesar | Lunara Azure Lunara Azure | Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner | Darth Meritum Darth Meritum | Allyson Locke Allyson Locke | Lirka Ka Lirka Ka | Domina Prime Domina Prime
Enemy Tag: [GA] - Not Engaging Yet

Location: Thranta Mothership [Under Da Sea]
Objective: Autonomy
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Robes | - | Red Lightsaber | - | Cool Whip | - | Enviro-Shield Generator |

___________

Quote of the Moment:
"...Well...You need the villain. If you don't have one...The good guy can just stay home."
___________

Once more into the breach.

"Oh, darling brother. How dreary you sound."

The voice that cut through the thick air was one of silken amusement, dripping, with a signature blend of charm and disdain. The youngest daughter of House Marr was known for her bravado and an inexplicable sense of self-worth. It had occurred to her that they might die. But, it never occurred to her that the Sith Order could lose. She was part of a loyal, noble house, and she would bear their duty to the crown gladly. Especially, considering the Imperial Bloc that Malum had created.

The sharp click of heels against the cold metallic floor of the Thranta Mothership announced her arrival before the scent of some exotic perfume wafted through the area. There was a low hum of dark energy that was being suppressed, hiding, her presence in the Force. The Alliance was full of Jedi who were adept at tracking just as much as they might be able to triangulate their position with technology. Perfectly painted nails, bloody red, swept up and ran through her hair—Tossing dark locks to the side.

Sophia Marr was nothing if not a spectacle.

A scarlet cloak, more for warmth, than practicality was removed and left lazily at some console. It was in stark contrast to the sleek black of her fitted ensemble. Raven hair fell around her shoulders in glossy waves, framing a pale face that was both hauntingly beautiful, and ridiculously confident. Her ruby gaze—sharp, playful, and slightly condescending—swept over the gathered cadre before landing on her elder brother with a knowing smirk. He was so very, very serious and he looked so incredibly tense.

Had he been brooding again?

She hoped not. It was terribly bad for his complexion—But so was that mask.

The Thranta was closing in quickly since the battle above Woostri had begun. The rumbling, the shaking, it was all telltale signs of heavy weaponry going off. Perhaps, even the Empress making planetfall with one of her excessive, bulky landing castles. Sophia always rolled her eyes at such a strong display of might but it was mostly out of jealousy. She wanted a weapon of mass destruction named after her too. Specifically, a castle. It was what a Sith Princess deserved.

She shifted on her feet when she felt a familiar presence arrive behind her. Her head turned and her chin touched her shoulder for a moment while crimson eyes swept over Horus Rhyne Horus Rhyne for several moments longer than necessary. They had disagreed, at length, about his presence on this mission but for reasons she could not disclose…She had been overruled. "Malum…", her tone changed, pulling his attention, providing the distraction he might not have wanted—but needed lest he figure things out on his own. She saw her elder brother in such a perfect light. He was a titan, a Dark Councilor, but he was still prone to obsessing over family matters. "This is Horus Rhyne…"

"Horus…This is Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr …My brother."


The title of "Darth" was important to a great many Sith and when introducing Malum to someone he didn't know, training, and childhood lessons on propriety kicked in whether she wanted them to or not. She didn't linger on the subject any longer than necessary and her focus turned toward the viewports to watch Thranta Spawns and Swarm Droids race ahead of them. The water was dark this far below. The shadows played tricks. Pulling her eyes, this way and that.

The somber occasion was startling to settle in her bones, regardless, of her attempts to pretend that the affair was trivial. Horus wasn't supposed to be here…But he hadn't been willing to let her walk into another war alone. She'd told him countless times that it wasn't his fight—But he hadn't cared. She reached down and her manicured hand brushed Horus' fingers. Still, unused to such possession. The presence he exuded was impossible to ignore. Dark, commanding.

Sophia had…Difficulty, denying him.

"…We await your orders, Dark Councilor.", she murmured, though, feathery lashes dusted against pale cheeks for a moment. Her eyes narrowed slightly when she realized she'd just given Malum full reason and permission to boss her around. "Do try not to be insufferable about it."

The grin that followed was a touch wicked—But tempered by what had come all too quickly.


War.
 
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Ally Tag: [SO] Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr | Sophia of House Marr Sophia of House Marr | Trayze Tesar Trayze Tesar | Lunara Azure Lunara Azure | Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner | Darth Meritum Darth Meritum | Allyson Locke Allyson Locke | Lirka Ka Lirka Ka | Domina Prime Domina Prime
Enemy Tag: [GA] - Not Engaging Yet
Location: Thranta Mothership [Under Da Sea]
Objective: Autonomy

The last time that Sophia had walked into a war alone, she had been captured and that had caused him endless distraction. He was not used to being worried about other people. Ever since he began his journey of the dark arts, immaterial things like empathy and love had been feint outprints on a horizon too far away to properly see. Until he had met her. Immediately taken by her, verging on the obsessed, it had changed things. It was still not the emotions spoken by heroes and paragons in poetry. Darker, more base possessiveness that did not broker any discussion on what needs Horus may or may not have.

All of it came together with one distinct realization: He would not let her wage war alone again without his protection. At least not the very first time she was free again after her initial kidnapping.

He stood near her, behind her, giving her space to tease away with her brother while Horus took in the sight of the bridge. So this is what being one of the heads of an entire nation could net you. Horus already felt his greed stir. Only the light gesture of her hand against his shook him out of that mood and into the next.

"Charmed, Dark Councilor." He said with just the feint outline of a bow. "Your sister has spoken highly of you on multiple occassions." This was only half of a truth, of course. More often than not Sophia would bemoan that they treated her as a child and did not give her the regard she so rightfully deserved.

But it would not due to embarass her in front of her elder brother.

"I am eager to see how you fare in battle."

No hint of fear, of anxiety, in meeting his beloved's elder brother and a Sith Lord to boot. Maybe he would have been in his twenties. When he had first started out by finding his father's book on Sith Occultism and the Darkside. But after two decades of scheming, of shedding blood, gaining power and ruling a large sector of the Underworld with an iron fist those anxieties had long since evaporated.

Malum was merely the latest in a long line of titans that would either be an ally or an obstacle on his path. Why worry about which it would be? They'd discover it soon enough regardless.
 

The Abyss Stares Back.
Location: Submersible 1-B. Halfway to Seabed.
Objective: Autonomy
Allies: Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr | Horus Rhyne Horus Rhyne | Sophia of House Marr Sophia of House Marr | Trayze Tesar Trayze Tesar | Lunara Azure Lunara Azure | Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner | Darth Meritum Darth Meritum | Allyson Locke Allyson Locke | Lirka Ka Lirka Ka | Domina Prime Domina Prime
Opposing Force: Jenn Kryze Jenn Kryze

The submersible groaned as it plummeted through the crushing depths of Woostri's oceans, every shudder and creak a grim reminder of the alien pressure wrapping itself around them. Serina Calis sat at the heart of it, strapped into a reinforced harness, eyes wide and unblinking as she felt the raw weight of gravity and inertia press down on her chest. This was her first time in a true battlefield scenario, let alone in an orbital drop operation. Excitement warred with trepidation in her gut. She had always dreamed of command, of leading forces into battle, but war was an art she had yet to perfect. Theories of war had been her playthings in the shadows of the Jedi Temple, but reality had no patience for intellectual games.

Serina was no Sith, but she had built trust. Hesitantly, the 19 year old was permitted to join the attack with her forces.

Her mercenaries, hastily assembled and thrown into this descent as expendable shock troops, grumbled around her. The air in the submersible was thick with sweat, tension, and the acrid scent of anticipation. Their armor was mismatched, salvaged from skirmishes past, and their weapons bore the marks of wear and haphazard modification. These were no Sith Legionnaires. They were cutthroats, deserters, opportunists—fighters who lived by blood and coin. And they answered to her now.

Unlike the others, she did not receive Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner and his communications. She was far too beneath it. The Sith expected her to die here, just as their doctrine always stated with disloyal mercenaries such as the ones she commanded, however it would not matter.

She would stick to the plan.

A violent jolt threw her forward against her harness as a shockwave rippled through the vessel, the metallic frame whining in protest. One of the mercenaries to her left cursed, gripping his rifle with white-knuckled desperation.

"What in the Force was that?" another snapped.

Serina forced herself to relax her grip on the cold durasteel of her seat. Her breathing was controlled, measured. She could not show doubt now.

"We're being fired upon," she answered coolly, pushing her voice into the void of the cabin. "Woostrian defenses are stronger than expected."

Another violent tremor rocked the submersible. The overhead lights flickered, momentarily casting them in darkness before the emergency glow strips bathed them in crimson. A scream rang out over the comms from another descending submersible—then silence.

"Submersible 10-B is gone," the pilot barked from the command console. "We need to move faster, or we're going to be next."

"Do it,"
Serina ordered, the words coming out steadier than she expected.

She barely had time to process the order before the submersible angled sharply downward, forcing their descent at an even greater velocity. Her stomach lurched, and for a moment, she imagined the walls of the vessel crumpling under the ocean's pressure, the crushing weight of the deep swallowing them whole.

No. She would not die here. She was meant for more than this.

She turned her gaze to her mercenaries, studying their faces as the reality of their situation sank in. Fear lurked in their eyes, even in the hardened ones who had killed for years without question. But in war, fear was a currency. If she could seize it, wield it, she could turn it into something useful.

"The Legionnaires expect us to die first," she said, her voice smooth as durasteel. "They see us as nothing more than a distraction, as fodder to bleed the enemy dry before they land." She paused, letting the truth of that sink in, letting them taste the bitter truth of their expendability. Then, she smiled. "They underestimate us."

She could feel the tension shift, from despair to something else—anger, defiance. Good.

"They want us to charge a minor section of the complex, force the elite of the Alliance forces to divide their attention. Fine. We'll do that. But we will not be the meat they throw into the grinder. We will be the blade in the dark, the ghost that strikes before the Alliance can react. We will kill, and we will survive."

A chorus of affirmations rose in response, hesitant at first, then growing in strength. It was not loyalty they gave her, not yet, but it was enough.

The submersible shuddered violently once more, and alarms blared.

"We're halfway to seabed," the pilot called out. "Woostrians have deployed deep-sea torpedoes."


Serina pressed her lips together. This was only the beginning. The real battle was waiting for them, just beyond the abyss.

She exhaled, letting go of the last vestiges of hesitation. Whatever awaited her below, she would face it as she always had: with calculated resolve and an iron will.

Let the Sith have their war. She would carve her own legend in its wake.


 
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They were getting closer. The troops were starting to get restless. The feeling of impending battle was enough to make even the strongest feel their nerves firing. Caelan closed his eyes and repeatedly went through the Jedi Code in his mind. For whatever reason, that always seemed to calm him more than most anything else did. It was the one constant in his life. Too many people believed that the peace that the code spoke of referred to peace in the galaxy, but it didn't. It was talking about the peace within ones self.

A shaking overtook the facility and he turned his attention towards the others and then moved in that direction. This was his. Soldiers were already moving to where the breach had occurred, prepared to fight against the forces of the Sith to the last man. That was their lot in life, their chosen profession. Caelan had chosen to become a Jedi in order to help free his world. Now he had a responsibility to use his training and skills in order to protect other worlds as well.

The man clad in ultrachrome and purple armor strode into the room that was being flooded with Sith forces. Alliances forces opened fire on them from the various corridors and doorways that opened onto the breached space. Caelan himself swatted a trooper so hard with a Force enhanced arm that the man's ribs crunched under the impact and he was flung away to slam into a heap against a wall. Not dead, though he, or she, or it, most likely wished that it was given the amount of pain it undoubtedly was in.

Helmed head settled its sight on the form of his opponent, a monstrosity clad in numerous plates that rampaged with the clear lack of direction afforded by the dark side.

"Beast!" he called out, voice amplified above the battle. "Yield thyself now and be spared. This is your only chance for this offer."

Even here, amongst the Sith attacking, Caelan held to his ideals that combat was a last resort. The trooper he'd swatted had only been the recipient of such because when Caelan had entered the room it was either swat or be stabbed and there wasn't time for words. As it was, there was plenty of fighting going on around him now, but he still offered the being this one chance. Their only chance. He would not play games after giving them this one opportunity.

If they failed to acquiesce, he would be forced to beat them into submission.


ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Lirka Ka Lirka Ka
 
Lirka’s Kainites had become ravenous, their zealous devotion had turned them as beastly as their mistress. While the defenders had felt their anxieties growing at the call of coming battle, the Sith and their minions had felt giddy with excitement. What greater honor was there to fight in the eternal feud of light and dark? What greater elation could a Kainite feel than knowing they would kill and die with the Butcher King’s eyes upon them? The Metal Goliath had told them so, and her darkness was undeniable.

They surged out of the siege engine like vermin, blasters firing wildly as they killed and died in equal measure. Those unfortunate souls to die in the first wave trampled underfoot by their fellows as they all rushed forward to meet the enemy: all chasing after the tip of the spear, Lirka Ka. With dark power in her heart, she danced between the first unfortunate souls she met: blade hacking and slashing, sending limbs flying to the air and clattering to the floor. While Caelan Valoren Caelan Valoren let his enemies live out of some goodness in his heart, Lirka was the opposite. She maimed, she tormented, so that those who survived would carry her legacy. Would spread the word of Carnifex’s metal butcher, his Lash.

The last of her initial butchery was an unfortunate soul, she took the troopers helmeted head in her clawed hand. Letting this new dark power surge through her form as she squeezed. The words of this warrior, blade in hand, beckoned to her to surrender. Her blank-faced helm slowly turned to acknowledge, her grip tightening with the sound of crunching armor and bone, the warrior struggled helplessly against her might till they went limp with the sickly wet pop of flesh. She let the trooper fall to the ground, uncaring that not but moments before he had been a man with family, dreams, ambitions, and hopes. All gone in an instant.

She cocked her head in curiosity, this Jedi wanted peace? The prospect was enough to make her laugh. She raised her blade, pointing it to Caelan in declaration. Her voice thundering out, amplified by the mechanisms of her helm.

“Slaves of the Jedi! I offer you this accord but once! Turn your weapons upon your fellows and join us in glorious butchery! So that you too may kill and die under the eyes of our glorious Eternal Father!”

She was mocking him, evidently. There would be no peace on Woostri.

Peace was a lie.
 
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Outfit: Field Attire, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | Slugthrower Rifle


"Knight Lidos, this is Grandmaster Noble. Every siege vessel you take down is one less we have to fight inside the Complex. You and your team are our first line of defense — make it count."

"Keep me updated. If anything slips through, we'll be waiting."

It was not a matter of if, but when. Through his Clairvoyant Force-sight the cloud of descending submersibles almost seemed unending, even as he tried his best to provide coordinates to the defence technicians.

"Peace, Kuhbee Kuhbee - the grandmaster awaits inside to protect the complex. She wouldn't put us out here just to die." Aadihr had accidentally held his breath, unfortunately aware of when he himself was subconsciously lying thanks to the observation of his Padawan, Aris Noble Aris Noble weeks prior.

The underwater defences blasted away, sending beams of projectiles and target seeking explosives, the rumbling of the blasts sounding like distant strikes of thunder through the Complex's drydocks, sealed overhead by energy shields dedicated to keeping the crushing pressure of the ocean and the storms it brewed at bay. A bright blue shield holding back a moon's weight in water was more discomforting than Aadihr cared to admit.

The technicians had enough targets that they could detect that Aadihr was only a distraction to them, so he had come to check on the Wookie Padawan, seeing the anxiety in their aura. Aadihr did his best to project confidence. Surely this drydock wouldn't be an important attack vector if only he and the Padawan were assigned to support the defense?

The amount of lowering vessels, seemingly unending, unfortunately proved that to be untrue.

Battered and beaten but intact vessels began to breach past the perimeter of fire, through the wreckage of other submersibles that had already detonated the undersea mines. The expansive drydock now suddenly seemed claustrophobic as returning fire erupted, and hatches opened to admit intruders.

It was hardly a question of when, Aadihr realized. The question was if Aadihr could keep himself and the Padawan alive.

He unslung his Slugthrower, chambering a subsonic round. The fire rate was prohibitively slow with the numbers that would soon spew onto the docks, but if Aadihr could target commanding units or those whose auras projected confidence perhaps an impact could be made.

Ashla forbid, any force users among them would also be a priority - but the likelihood of catching one unawares enough to hit them with a silenced slug was still too slim.

Ally: Kuhbee Kuhbee
Enemies: Zanami Zanami | Domina Prime Domina Prime
 

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