Invasion The Day of Revenge | BotM Invasion of GA held Empress Teta and Foerost | TETA PART ONE

[Seto du Couteau]

Senator Seto Du Couteau
Location: Empress Teta, Cinnagar Palace
Objective 1: The Invasion of Empress Teta
B: The Royal Palace -> A: The Iron Giant Walks
Actions: Heading towards Maledictum
Outfit

Seto felt a hand on his shoulder and almost ignoring the gesture he turned around with an impatient stare. His lips kept an honest smile as his eyes softened at recognizing the Jedi Master next to him. Giving the Jedi a nod, he reached into his pocket to pull out his Comlink and showed it to the man. "-Master Jedi." Seto spoke, sounding a bit tense.

"It's best we be quick about finding more information and-" Seto paused as another ground quake robbed his attention. It was a lot less extreme and much shorter of a quake but felt much closer and it was far more rhythmic. Then a blast of a might war-horn boomed that threatened to break every window in the palace.

The Senate Guards looked around ready to move but Seto's smile twisted into a grin, "Don't worry, I know the perfect place to find out what exactly is happening to the palace and Cinnagar." Seto motioned for them to quickly move as he grabbed his data-slate and quickly called for his transport.

"The Princeps Walker Maledictum's bridge will have enough intel on what's exactly going on and with it, we'll know how to proceed." Seto explained, the God Machine itself was highly advanced, the best chance to get a grasp of the situation. Perhaps it'll be over thanks to the Maledictum and Kyli.

"My transport can drop us off." Seto added, his head turning and body walking quickly to reach the back of the palace.
​

|| Kier Grey | Zark San Tekka | Joseph Torson | Hilal Vizsla | Hex ||​

 

[Laoth]

Equipment: Laoth's Cybernetic Body | Double Vibroblade
Tags: Rhys Halcyon
Location: Empress Teta

Slaughter
Separation
Humorous Challenge​

---

The boy dodged the strike - barely ducking and weaving around the razor-sharp edge that carved open the air itself. Laoth snorted in slight humor and locked himself in place for the boy to strike back. His fleshless smile grew to imperceptible degrees as the lightsaber's blade did nothing at all to his plated body beyond a slight singe of the epidermal layer of the metal. Still, he gave a sliver of a nod in approval, silently recognizing that the boy was quicker than expected, despite the Devaronian's attack nearly removing his head. And at least brave enough in some parts to actually attack rather than run following the dodge.

Laoth swung again after this, metal claws ripping forward for flesh and bone, only to find the boy dodging a second time. Unlike before, which had been simple and direct, the young Jedi was far more flourishing this time. Not only did he step into the line of fire from his soldiers - who promptly ceased their volleys - he then displayed the typical acrobatics of his order by vaulting over Black Steel and the Mawites onto the top of their shuttle. It was minorly impressive, to say the least, even though it was all for naught. Of course, the outcome of this non-duel had been decided the second the Jedi chose to enter that lift, and it would be Laoth who was the victor. There was no other outcome that was feasible.

So, with his augmented eyes' perfect clarity and enhanced colors, Laoth looked up at the Jedi and though his face could not form expressions anymore, it was clear how amused he was. Offensively amused, even, for his stance was unwavering even as his back was turned to the soldiers accompanying the child. At any moment, they could fire upon him. Perhaps even kill him, or maim him, or damage his vital components. But, he did not acknowledge this. Nor did he pay them any mind or give any indication that he was any more aware of them as he would be an ant in the desert. No…no he was, in fact, it was as if he was not aware of their existence at all.

Even when Black Steel and the Mawites charged past him to slaughter the soldiers before they could resume their attack, Laoth kept his eyes locked on the boy. Even when the fight was over in less than a minute, and torrents of blood drenched the rooftop in even greater quantities than that of the defenders, puddles of the crimson ichor forming under the Devaronian's feet and trailing into the turbolift that his soldiers took to take their slaughter below, he stood motionless. Statuesque. Silent.

And then he finally moved, stepping slowly - sauntering - to the edge of the rooftop, resting his arms on the railing in a lax manner. Soaking in the scenery of the cityscape and beyond.

Fire-red filled the sky with swathes of blood orange. The towers gleamed with silver and glass, shuddering in their defiant stand to the thundering of their home. And the sun beat down onto the cityscape as a burning orb trying so desperately to keep the Light of Hope alive in those fighting for their very lives - their very souls. But what could it do in such times? How long could the towers stand against such hordes of slaughter? Indeed, it seemed impossible for any to stoke the flame of belief that this day could be won. From below and around, black smoke billowed and plumed in great waves and towers, growing more and more as the ships and shuttles plummeted to the hells for the screams and roars to replace them in the heavens. He sniffed loudly through his skeletal nose and sighed with an accent of pleasure and shifting of his shoulders. The scent of scorched blood and flesh...that was all that could be smelled in those pillars of smog and smolder.

He tittered and looked back to the young boy atop the shuttle who screamed in defiance and rage. "I know the...situation out there is pretty terrible, but you should calm yourself, boy," he chided. "It is not like the Jedi to succumb to their anger…though I suppose you are still a child…so one cannot expect you to fully understand that."

Turning so that his back was now to the edge of the rooftop and against the railing, he crossed his arms and cocked his head. "What is your name? I will give you the honor of at least telling me that before I kill you."

 

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
Jem Fossk | Dagon Kaze | Corin Trenor | Ryv
Cinnagar, Empress Teta

WRATH

​

The beast’s roar rippled through the skies of Cinnagar like a hurricane wind. Smoke and fire spilled out as far as the eye could see as the battle for the soul of the planet began in earnest. A quick glance to his daughter saw her off as she made her way towards the edge of the floating behemoth. Without a hint of fear or doubt, the apprentice gracefully stepped off.

The Dark Lord of the Sith pressed his right foot forward and dug in, eyes like daggers following the trajectory of his kin. He hissed, extending his right hand forward, palm opening in gesture as the psychic connection between man and beast intensified. The Summa Verminoth groaned and dipped, diving towards the cityscape with it’s tendrils extended out.

​

A typhoon tugged at his robes relentlessly, fierce winds powerful enough to uproot him threatened to remove the Dark Voice from his fortified stance. He would not budge, the gusts were like waves breaking against the unmoving rock. Twin orbs of sulfuric hate glared down as the beast savagely slammed into a nearby tower, cleaving through an entire story.

Vroom!

Wherever the massive beast loomed, dust and debris followed in it’s savage wake. Buildings partially collapsed if not outright crumbled under the weight of the apex predator. As the monstrosity circled, the Dark Voice lifted himself and cast off. Touching the empyrean, he gathered the Force and leapt from the dome of the Summa Verminoth, descending in a slow controlled fall.

He came down, eyes casting a terrible glare down towards the landing site of his kin. The Sith’ari’s black robes enveloped around him, an umbral shroud that defied physics floating down. The Dark Voice lowered, drifting into a dust cloud kicked up by the rampant destruction around them. Smoke and ash filled the air, his form vanished completely, lost in the chaos.

“You may think this is suffering. No.”

“It is salvation.”

The Dark Lord emerged from the fog of war, the smoke and dust rolling off his midnight cloak as the winds pressed against him. He advanced, eyes honed and ready.

“Dread it all you like. Run from it if you have to. The facts remain the same… huh..”

His gaze twisted away, immediately drawn to the final obstacle in his daughter’s training and full conversion as a Sith.

“Time to let old things die. You know what you must do, do not hesitate.”

 

[Darth Carnifex]

CINNAGAR, EMPRESS TETA

Chaos reigned.

The skies were laden with blood, the ground muddy with it. The thunderous boom of war drowned out the very wind on which it was carried, the maligned screech of a dying world. How many times had He been witness to such devastation, and how much of it had been conducted by His own hand? Countless times, innumerable beyond comprehension. The galaxy had suffered greatly under His tyranny, every free man and woman flinching at the mere tapping of His conductor's baton before the first note of His grand symphony had even been played.

Now the galaxy flinched at the mention of new names, new horrors, new adversaries. The turning of the wheel, the hyperfixation on the next great threat. Dark Lords would come and go, they would make their mark upon the galaxy and strike fear into the heart of the Jedi. They would rally great heathen armies to sweep down upon the civilized systems, subjecting the galaxy to another epoch of war, from which they will barely survive.

But He would remain, the great insidious constant.

Rising up into the air, the Dark Lord of the Sith carried Himself and His entourage above the besieged walls of the Iron Citadel. The Maw struck at the heart of the city from within and from without, the braying of a thousand monsters a siren song for the deranged dross to conduct their hideous depravity. With such calamity breathing down the necks of those sworn to uphold the citadel defenses, the Dark Lord found it none too difficult to cross that threshold and settle upon its walls. Those that turned to face Him found their bodies grotesquely contorted, tossed over the side, and dashed against the ground below.

Those that watched the example made of their brethren and continued to stand in His path faced far less merciful fates. Some watched in soundless horror as their flesh sloughed off from their bones in congealed clumps, others cutting themselves to bloody ribbons with their own service blade against their own volition, while a few drowned as fluid filled their lungs and choked their airway. The Dark Lord spared none that raised their hand against Him, but curiously ignored those that did not. For every three that perished, He left one standing bemused as the towering cloaked man, nay; a monster, silently walked past them and tore open a breach into the citadel's upper levels.

Once inside, the Dark Lord drew up His hood over His ram-horned helmet. The sight of a bulky ill-fitting bundle atop an angular black trapezoid might've been cause for amusement, perhaps even mockery, but the vile presence that followed the shadowy wraith wherever it moved strangled all emotions except for fear. A darkness exuded from the Dark Lord, a terrible thundering dirge that crept along the citadel floors and drove the weak-willed into madness.

The Dark Lord only stopped when He stood in an alcove looking over the Tetan throne room, hidden in the shadows that trailed Him. He craned His head up, looking not at the ceiling above but beyond it. Beneath the leering visage of His mask, the Dark Lord's lips moved in a silent whisper.

+Jax Thio, destiny has come.+

Jax Thio | Iris Arani
Caltin Vanagor | Rannan Kol ​

 

[Percival Io]

Objective 1C: Protect the Iron Citadel
Accompanied by: Boris and Bram | Prescott “Scott” Io (see bio)
Tags: The Manifold Westenra Mina

Space folded before the group, forcing them to halt their progress. For the second time since their arrival on Empress Teta, Scott asked, “What the hell is that?”

The creature now headed towards them was some sort of cyborg. Parts of it were humanoid, parts of it were machine, and parts of it were too difficult to describe. Percival assumed it was the result of one of the Maw’s monstrous experiments. How grotesque.

It spoke in fractured phrases, but they got the gist. This thing was trying to prevent them from meddling with the hypergate. Holstering his disruptor, Percival’s eyes narrowed.

“Go to hell.”

Drawing his sword, he seemed intent on sending the Manifold there himself. His companions were preoccupied with fending off the aspirants flooding out of the portal, allowing Percival to fight this strange new foe unimpeded. He slashed at the extended needles with his blade, his movements rapid and backed by superhuman strength. For the moment, however, he was merely testing the Manifold, his droid senses gathering data for analysis. He would learn how his opponent fought, what his weaknesses were, and then find a way to exploit them.

 

[Auteme]

Aerarii Tithe | Kralmus Orr ​

The bombing run rocked the spaceport, and Auteme stopped, looking up at the sky as it filled with laser fire.

Her part was a small one that day -- there was little time between the alert of imminent invasion and the arrival of the invaders, so the evacuations had to be as smooth as possible. She and her security team volunteered to assist the effort, guiding civilians to the spaceport and organizing them so they could board the quickly-leaving transports.

Of course, it couldn't last. The nervous buzz that had been growing among those being evacuated came to a head; the first screams of the day rang out as panic swept the crowd. Empress Teta had been safe for a long time. Suddenly the terror of a wider galaxy crashed into the world. People started to run, cry for help, faced with the fact that they were trapped on the planet as the Maw rushed to meet them.

There was still time. They couldn't leave, but they could live.

The spaceport's staff were doing their best to keep everyone calm and orderly, but the voice over the intercom had fear creeping into her voice, and things were going to fall apart quickly.

She ran towards the main security checkpoint and flagged a guard. "Hey!"

The guard paused a moment, before a look of recognition crossed her face. "Er- yes ma'am?"

"Hi, I'm Auteme." She glanced at the officer's ID. "Officer Frei, could you tell me where the nearest safe space in the lower levels is? Any large areas, where we could move people?"

"Um... there's a few older levels of the spaceport, some hangars, that kind of thing." There was a small realization from the woman. "You want to move everyone there?"

"Yes, exactly- until it's safe to evacuate everyone. Please let your colleagues know," she said, pointing to Frei's commlink. "Oh, and if you could tell the person on the comm- just get everyone's attention with a noise, and I'll take it from there." She gave a reassuring smile. "It's going to be alright, we just need to act quickly."

The guard nodded once, then again. "Yes. Yes- er, as you say, Senator. I'll- I'll be right back." She ran off.

Auteme then hopped on top of one of the security stations at the edge of the landing zone. With a wave of her hand she produced a bright, shimmering light, flaring up to catch the crowd's attention; in combination with a little screech from the intercom, everyone calmed down a moment, if only to see what was going on.

"Everyone! Please stay calm!" She pushed her voice a little further with the Force's help, but it was mostly the vague recognition she got from the crowd that kept their attention. "It's not safe here, but it'll be less safe if everyone's panicking."

Stating the obvious was a surprisingly good tactic in hectic situations. "Get together with your family or group, then head towards the entrances to the lower levels- there are some older hangers of the spaceport that will be safe for us to stay until the bombing stops. Security will lead you there. It'll be safe, I promise -- just stay calm, walk, stick together, and follow security. I'm right behind you. We'll all be safe."

Her words were laced with enough reassurance that the crowd quieted. She dropped off the security checkpoint, right as Officer Frei returned.

"Everyone is, ah, informed of your plan, Senator."

"Good. Alright. Is there anyone still on the landing pads?"

"Ah- I think there's still one transport that's about to take off, but I heard something about it being commandeered-"

"Alright. I'll check on that -- are you comfortable leading everyone down?"

"Me? Yes. Yes- yes. I can do that."

Auteme smiled. "Good. Get to work, officer. I'll be with you in just a minute, don't worry about anything."

They parted ways. Auteme ran out towards the transport -- the thing was the size of a small corvette, and hardly nimble enough to escape easily. There were people being offloaded, and- was that Tithe?

She ran to the first of the civilians being rushed off, and offered a warm smile. A family of four -- she reassured them, lightly placing a hand on the shoulder of the mother who clutched her son. "It's alright. Just head back to security -- everyone's being led to a safe spot. Just stay calm, it'll be alright. I promise."

She gave the same quick assurances to everyone getting off, until she was closer to the front, where a squadron of Senate Guards formed tight ranks around their Chancellor.

"Tithe!" Even though the guards seemed to recognize her, they still made a screen around the Aargauan. "It's not safe to take off," she advised, but as the last civilians offloaded, she found some bitterness creeping into her tone. "You'd really just leave these people like this? Take them off the last ship?"

No, she thought. He really would.

 

[Jax Thio]

Location: Empress Teta, Palace
Equipment: Jedi Robes, Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Second Lightsaber, Promise Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Darth Carnifex , Rannan Kol , Caltin Vanagor


The remaining Acolytes quickly surrounded Jax, their red blades flashing. Jax stood over the bisceted corpse of the Sith he just killed, five against one an even fight. All five of them attacked at once their Lighsabers striking at different angles not one hit Jax, he was given into the Force allowing his Lightsaber to shunt aside the attacks each parry barely catching the attack by a millimeters. Jax weaved his Lightsaber into a circle of shelter, an impregnable defense subtly redirecting attacks and sidestepping out of the pit of Acolytes. Remaining calm, Jax Force Pushed one of the Acolytes off of his feet his body sent careening through the glass window. Jax could hear his blood curled scream until he heard a crack indicating he landed on his neck below.

The four Acolytes moved quickly ramping up their attacks 18 strikes per second the average strikes a novice Juyo practitioner makes. Jax was hardly a combat aestheticist but these rookie's moves were sloppy they moved like a drunken Wookie flailing at him but Jax blocked and half spun slicing one of the combatants across the back before transitioning into a balletic spin decapitating another Acolyte who was in the middle of his an overhead strike. His body fell along side his head and arms Jax ran towards another Acolyte using his chest jump off of him and kick another Acolyte across the jaw. Blood immediately spurt from his mouth as he was lifted a foot in the air as Jax sliced the man whom he used to jump against with blade across the chest.

Two more remaining.

Jax pressed on the offense crisscrossing his blade like a Sarlacc. The Acolytes tried to fight back but were immediately pushed into a corner by the onslaught of Jax's attacks. He pressed on inexorable trying to overload their defenses looking for just one mistake..... An Acolyte attempted to poke at Jax's head but he lost his hand for his trouble, Jax ended his pain with a stab to through the chest before finishing the last Acolyte with an overhead slash. The Jedi Master sighed looking at the mangled corpses "a little too easy," he muttered before sensing a dark chill in his spine.

"Jax Thio, destiny has come."

The voice sounded familiar; a dark figure loomed in this palace its power growing. Jax frowned his body trembling as if he had the desire to give up. "Where are you?" Jax muttered leaping into the upper levels of the Palace.

 

[Bané Zirbils]

Obective:
Equipment: Wolf Lead
Allies: GA
Enemies: MAW
Tags: Khione

​

"Ten! watch your six there's-" Ari heard one of her flight leads shout over the squadron's channel, looking out of her cockpit as a flight of Uglies charged towards the shipyards - one of them strafed Nemesis 10's rear, seemingly knocking out her engines and flight control as the A-wing went spiraling off into the dark. "All pilots break formation, stay with your wingmen and keep yourselves ready. Looks like we've got some Uglies coming in - Death Seeds by the look of it" The fighters all broke off in a starburst formation to try and shake their tails before pulling back into chaotic formations with their wingmen, using their speed and maneuverability to engage the enemy uglies, keeping to lasers for the time being. "5, stay on me. I'm going in to engage their leader."

Contact
​

Ari disengaged her inertial dampeners long enough to flip around towards the lead Ugly, the dampeners struggling and failing to provide any compensation for the crushing force of Wolf Lead's Defender engines as they screamed to full throttle towards the enemy leader - 5 pulled around normally to follow her from afar, not even daring to copy her maneuver nor blow out his engines trying to catch up with his leader. Keeping her eyes on the lead ugly, Ari Rolled into a loop as she neared the engagement, strafing blindly across the bow of the lead Ugly - just outside of the effective range of her heavy laser cannons, but hopefully it would be more than enough to get the pilot's attention.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

THE IRON GIANT WALKS | EMPRESS TETA | CINNEGAR

It had been nice. Pleasant, even. Beautiful people, clothes, decor — the entire atmosphere had been an exorbitant example of opulence. But despite the jovial, hope-filled celebrations, Bernard had been on edge. Which put Ishida on edge. En route to the ecumenopolis he’d disclosed how many reports indicated Teta as a crossroad, another point of potential attack. But the Maw’s timing was unpredictable and chaotic. So, through the ceremony and following festivities, the air filled with floral and spicy fragrances stung with a weight of impending…something.

Theoretical something turned into physical everything. Confetti turned to ash, cheers turned to screams, dancing turned to fleeing, joviality turned to panic.

In a tidal shift, party-goers and civilians found themselves sandwiched in the great capital between skies of black, and shadowy crags of fallen earth.

The entire city mobilized in response. A great Titan rose, earth’s gravel and silt dripping from its anamorphic physique. It thrummed with colossal power, its fists looking might enough to crunch the citadel’s gates beneath their sides.

Ahead of the massive man-like machine, local guards and lent army and quickly activated to arms. Vehicles streamed into the streets, and starfighters screamed above to counter the onslaught of Eradicator class ships.

“Politicians and their symbolic parties seem a mighty magnet for menaces,” Ishida murmured through clenched teeth and strain while keeping a fallen portion of the palace from crushing the live entertainment — they took the chance to scramble for safety. Did opulence mean opportunity? Was the fact the core had access to such privilege deserving of such brutality?

Several protective bubbles, defensive techniques, and ushering civilians away from the main courtyard later, a massive Titan emerged just behind the palace.

When it appeared, Ishida whooshed out a breath of relief.

It took no time at all for the pair of Jedi to pivot, and entirely uninvited, hop up the massive walking machine. Lunging for the bridge of its foot, scrambling up the shin, and clawing at the ledge of its kneecaps, just before the femur. On the knees was there pause, where they crouched against the wind and looked out. With one hand on the ledge, Ishida strained through the vibrations. The deafening whirr of the machine’s systems meant they’d have to shout to talk — but for a long while, all they shared was silence. Observing the fallout before thrusting into it. Dread pulled at her peripheries, narrowing her focus forward.

Rows and rows of the defence force filed into the streets and fractions of those rows and rows of men fell beneath an ominous, near-opaque black mist. Two tanks leading the charge disappeared into a rolling cloud of black, the ripple of their fiery explosions puffing out into utter darkness. Only carnage was left in the cloudy wake.

Whoever was operating the massive walker seemed to think the source of the cloud was a good target. Streaks of plasma seared out from its massive cannons. The smell of ozone was ripe this close to the cannons, and Ishida watched the colourful bolts cut through the air and collide with the ground below — splintering out duracrete from its impact.

From there, a series of bluish spheres drew her attention, and her jaw tightened at the sight of the monsters they encapsulated. She didn’t recognize them, or what they were capable of entirely, but the fact that they were waiting was probably not good. It probably meant that flesh and bone wouldn’t satiate them and their appetite begged for something more…titanic.

Distantly, a more aggressive part of her recognized the potential for them being carved into a menpō. But that consideration was clobbered by the shift of her vision, and the recognition of that which stationed itself at the fore and lingered. Ishida grimaced, glaring out to the rolling mists and horde that lingered just behind. The Scar Hounds — a mass of creatures that had been responsible for chaos and dread all through the Hyperspace War. Zealous, unquestioningly faithful, and bloodthirsty. They were a barbaric bunch, and brutally effective when it came to devastation — as was made clear by the growing pull of fear within the city. Their commander was unseen.

Her hair whipped about wildly behind her, easily the most animated thing about the stoic little warrior as she rose to stand. Keeping one hand on the mech, and using the other to wipe away loose strands before pointing out to the rolling tide of black and the second wave that spread out laterally behind it.

“They can’t make the same mistakes.” In order to be heard, she had to raise her voice.

Those two sinister waves stood between the mech and the citadel. The first wave of Teta’s tanks had erupted into oblivion. A second wave was quickly rolling down the streets, on the same course.

Another six tanks were rolling around the mech’s feet now, coordinating their trajectory with the Titan’s.

Ishida glanced to Bernard, and with a shared look, their intentions were marked. When the first two tanks lined up at the toes of the titan, Ishida leaped forward from the iron giant, claiming the one on the right. The freefall lasted only a handful of seconds before she landed on the back of one of the repulsortanks with a thud.

Operators inside were alarmed, and propped open the top hatch — they met eyes, and the personnel seemed to designate her quickly as on their side and quickly scuttled back inside while she moved up the slope toward the hatch.

The dark mist was inches from the barrel of the machine’s canon. Ishida glared ahead, keeping a hand hovered above the hilt on her waist. A decisive selection of prioritizing her Jedi-based weapon above that of her heritage.

When darkness struck toward these machines again, it would meet The Light.

---

NJO | GA | Bernard
BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | Darth Bellum | The Mongrel

 

[Corin Trenor]

THE DAY OF REVENGE
IDENTITY CRISIS vol. III
Issue #1 w/ Dagon Kaze Jem Fossk Darth Solipsis Ryv

​

His new Master had felt distant at times, as if an extended arm refused to allow them to become as close as some other students he had been. It wasn't as if Corin had not been all too aware of the Padawan that came before him, but he failed to realise that it was fear; fear of failure had seen the two remain focused on the business-end of their connection, to find interests outside the Jedi Order and their mission... that fear of loss. It never seemed to settle in Corin and at the mere mention of Jem, had Corin frowned. Not for his Master, but for himself - his mind lost all focus, all that he needed was lost as he turned into the second born to the favoured star.

He had too much to lose.

She could succeed into her father's embrace, or fail into her Master's.

Corin shut himself off from the chaos, and a breath followed in an effort to find some composure. To no avail.

The Padawan nodded towards Kaze as the world crumbled around them. He had no words for all of this, and followed his Master as the two traversed the ruins of Teta, of the same ones that continued to increase in destruction as each second came and went.

Some small amount of calm had found itself returned to Corin, but that sliver was tested once the distant two came into view and both Dagon and Corin came closer and closer. He was better than her, he assured himself, he was not so weak as to crumble onto a traitor's road and abandon all that he knew.

 

[Alexa]

​

Location: Cinnagar Royal Palace, Cinnagar - Empress Teta
Objective: Last Stand at Foerost - The Royal Palace
Allies: BotM ( Kyrel Ren Joseph Torson Shai Maji IMPERA Rannan Kol ) │ TK ( Darth Carnifex )
Enemies: GA ( Zark San Tekka Seto du Couteau Jax Thio )
Direct Engagement: Open!

The will of the dark side had led her here.

Chassella had followed its roiling, violent currents from Polis Massa to Exegol, then to here, Empress Teta. On Exegol, she had linked up with the Church of the Dark Side and received her obligation, a task which she would need to execute in order to complete her initiation into the ranks of the Church. It was quite simple in statement, but would likely be extremely difficult in undertaking.

Her mission was to kill a dignitary of the Alliance or the regime of Empress June Keto.

The Upsilon-class shuttle touched down in a clearing close to the palace, disgorging its payload of fanatically-devoted initiates and acolytes, before taking off to retrieve more desperate, devout souls to ferry into the gauntlet. Most were little more than rabble, armed only with vibroblades, pistols, and dark cloaks with padded armor underneath. Against the armor, firepower, and discipline of the Marshals and Senate Guard, they were little more than a distraction. As such, it went without saying that they died in droves, their robe-clad scattered in countless numbers across the streets, which Chassella stepped over on as she made her way to the palace.

And yet, while the initiates paid in blood for every foot, still, they advanced ever closer towards the palace.

With her rigorous martial training stemming from her background in the Eight Arrows Sect, Chassella was one of the few capable of engaging the Marshals on an equal or superior footing. Emerging from their flanks, the short-statured Elzeri heaved her chakrams into the enemy ranks, their mono-edged blades lopping off heads and severing limbs to visceral, gruesome, and debilitating effect. A pair of the Marshals collapsed to the ground as they sprinted to cover, their heads taken off by a flying chakram, which returned to Chassella’s grip just as their heads hit the ground in turn, a few moments after their bodies. Simultaneously, the Elzeri’s second chakram cut a bloody swathe through a squad of Marshals, leaving four without heads and four others missing a leg. Those without legs were left to die where they fell or were brutally finished off by the other initiates, while Chassella moved on towards the palace.

The assassin could not be distracted from her obligation.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Disciple Bodysuit Mk. II
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • Wide-Beam Sonic Stunner (2) - L/R
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Chassella’s Chakrams
• XA-4 ‘Silverslash’ Galvanic Whipblade - Thunderous Configuration (2)
  
  • Voidmetal Coating

 

[Khione]

Tag: Bané Zirbils

Fighter Complement
2 squadron of 12 Chir'daki
Lead fighter painted white with similar marking to Khione

Khione flinched as her force reflexes took over and her fighter rolled around the oncoming heavy blaster fire from the a-wing of Bané Zirbils . It certainly got her attention and she looked at the craft streaking towards her, she lined up to joust the nimble craft and opened fire with her own quad heavy laser cannons. Her x-foils spun around the ball shaped cockpit as she dodged incoming fire, the target was small and fast, a glancing blow lashed her shield causing a flare in her vision and she flashed past the oncoming A-wing, hoping to have scored at least something against it.

She pulled her ship hard into a K-turn to bring herself back into firing arc, but she doubted she could outmaneuver the more nimble fighter. "Kiri! Cover my six if this guy tries to tail me, I think we have an ace on our hands." Her wingman moved into a covering postion but had his own fight to deal with, luckily the other a-wings seemed like they were stock and didn't have quite the performance of the monster Khione was duelling.

One of the deathseeds exploded nearby as a stray proton missile fron somewhere hit it square on. Khione didnt have time to pray but the Avatars would likely have his spirit now.

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Empress Teta
Objective: Defend the palace
Tags: Onrai

He had come a long way from the peaceful, winding green hills of Azbrian which held his family farm. Since starting his training with the New Jedi Order he had become more reliable in himself and formed a stronger connection with the force like never before. He didn't just do it on his own though, with the help of such teachers like Kahlil Noble and Valery Noble they had made him realise what his true purpose would be. Creating peace and providing help to the weak was his path now, nothing was going to change that...

boooooom!

Loud destruction suddenly snapped the padawan out of his meditation within the palace, forcing him to witness the walls around him shake violently from the approaching evil. Silas gathered himself and took a deep breath, knowing the time had come to face the evil that threatened to consume their very way of life. He scrambled up to his feet and went to the doorway calmly, looking in both directions in search of the source of his awakening.

Right now he was on the lower floors of the majestic palace, a location which would surely be the starting point of the Maws attack. Further down the hallway, he could hear the distant and distinctive sound of blaster fire. An indication that the brutes were getting too close for comfort. Igniting his lightsaber, he jogged down the clear corridors towards the fighting, determined to hold the murderous individuals at bay.

"Hold your ground! we cannot allow them to enter the higher floors!" the palace guard captain said to his squad, who were getting pinned down by a group of five Maw soldiers trying to force their way deeper into the palace. The opposition was well geared, as well as fierce from their battle hardened nature. They didn't seem to be letting up, increasingly gaining ground over the guards who were starting to falter.

"Sir! we're not going to last long if we stay in this position. We must pull back!"

"No! we are to serve th-"

Suddenly, the sight of a blue lightsaber appeared behind the Maw troops, one that swiftly approached them with purpose. The soldier at the very back caught sight of the padawan and fired a wave of blaster fire his way, only for it to be absorbed by the body of his brethren which was being used as a meatshield. With a loud grunt, Silas used the force to fling the motionless corpse straight into his chest, making him fall back first in a heap.

Before the others could turn around and see the threat Silas was already on top of them. His lightsaber plunged into the first man's chest while his left hand powerfully forced pushed his buddy into the wall. The last two backed away in shock but didn't hesitate to try and gun down the gun, but before they could even pull the trigger further shots erupted further down the corridor that instantly sent them to the floor in a smoking mess.

Silas took a few deep breaths and nodded to the brave captain, his lightsaber switching off as he approached the tired looking guardsman "Thanks for the assist..." he said to all of them, a warm smile forming on his lips as he looked at each one of them "But now might be a good time to regroup, I'm afraid you'll have more fighting coming your way..."

"Agreed, we will try and form up with the rest in the main hall. But, what will you do Jedi?"

"I'll be searching for any of our troops which need support, we're all in this together after all. Now go, your men will need all the help they can get" The boy said authoritatively, providing another respectful nod to the captain who replied back with one of his own. With that, the leader and his men rushed back from where they came, trying to reconnect with the rest of the main force within the structure.

On the other hand, Silas had a long day ahead. He didn't know what the battle foretold of the future of Empress Teta, but he was sure to try his best in repelling the evil that sort to destroy happiness. Giving a quick roll of his shoulders he pressed forth, fearless as to what was to come.

 

[Tren Chaar]

B U L W A R K

FOEROST
B-WING HEAVY STARFIGHTER​

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Revenant Squadron Leader: CDR Tren Chaar Five: FLT Kaul "Joker" Emos Ten: FLT Qellene Tyliame Wolf Squadron Leader: MAJ Bané Zirbils Galactic Alliance RADM Liedran Kathause The Arbiter Brotherhood of the Maw Marlon Sularen Akûz the Ravager Khione Electra-12 Wendell Mortimer Glolmark Spoiler: Summary -Revenant lies in wait, ready to spring their trap

The orbit of Foerost, like any developed planet, was filled with space junk. Derelict satellites long forgotten by the once-owners, abandoned ships whose captains were unable to pay for repairs, and unfinished husks of ships destined to never travel between the stars. These piles of twisted durasteel and betaplast drifted aimlessly above the world below, awaiting the day a scavenger would lock onto them with a tractor beam and tow them away for smelting. They were lifeless objects, a reminder of failed hopes and broken promises.

But today, not all of them were lifeless, and some carried dreams of glory.

“Hold steady.”

The voice, little more than a whisper, came through the headsets of the twelve Revenant Pilots. Even though the starfighters were connected with a physical datacable to avoid detection by comms scanners, Chaar hadn’t risen to his station by being careless. The Umbaran pilot squirmed in his seat as he tried to stretch his sore muscles. Eighteen hours in the cockpit, his B-wing hidden into the airless carcass of a long-forgotten starliner, had been unpleasant to say the least.

Thankfully, the wait would soon be over, and Revenant would soon be bathed in glory.

Chaar watched his scanners as Brotherhood of the Maw ships converged on the Alliance planet. The enemy pilots were doing exactly what the tacticians had hoped they would - use the space junk as cover from the orbit defence batteries located on the surface. Revenant just needed a worthy target to justify breaking cover and engaging the enemy. Their trap could not be sprung twice.

A squadron of TIE fighters on a vector that would have them pass the floating hulk in a few moments. The battle computer, operating in passive mode to reduce their sensor signature, gave a high probability that the squadron was an elite Maw unit, potentially the Crimson Linings Squadron. Revenant and Crimson had a long history bathed in blood throughout the Second Great Hyperspace War. Today would be the day that Revenant finding wiped out their long-time enemy.

“Stand by,” Chaar ordered as he tightened his grip on his flight stick, watching the enemy draw nearer. Just a few more moments.

Then it would be time to hunt.

 

[Onrai]

Location: Empress Teta
Objective: Bulli Valery Noble 's Babbywan and keep him from contributing to the palace's greater defense efforts
Enemies: Silas Westgard and anyone who wants to help him

I don't think there's much you'll be doing, my young Padawan. A voice said, resonating through the room he was in. One by one the lights began to flicker, a shadow building up within their bulbs - until they shattered and the infinitely abyssal essence, black as the void of space, erupted from within them, leaving Silas in but a simple cloak of darkness illuminated only from the entryways and exitways. The shadow's perpetual manifestation coalesced into the form of a humanoid woman, the very form she had regularly assumed since finally shedding the last dregs of her former mortal self.

"So, you're the one Valery has chosen to take under her wing? Tell me, what in particular was the thing that encouraged her to pursue you as an apprentice? Certainly something must have stood out." She chose to start without a grandiose introduction - there was no need. Not now, anyways.

There were bigger things to focus on.

 

[Kralmus Orr]

The Hunting of the Chancellor
​

Location: Teta, Starport
Tags: Aerarii Tithe | Auteme

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Kralmus stalks Chancellor Tithe, unaware that Auteme is also present

​

Chancellor Aerarii Tithe, political head of the Galactic Alliance, had something of a reputation among the Brotherhood of the Maw. He was no warrior, not in any sense that the savage marauder tribes - who valued physical strength and battlefield courage above all else - would respect. He waged his wars in the boardroom and on the senate floor, and there were few things that the Mawites admired less than ephemeral battles of politics and economics. And yet he had been physically present at some of the most savage battles of the Second Great Hyperspace War - Csilla, Korriban, Coruscant, Epoch. Each time he had been a priority target. Each time he'd managed to slither away.

Yes, Chancellor Tithe had gained a reputation as a real escape artist, one slippery character...

... but then, he'd never been hunted by Kralmus Orr.

"The spider has scuttled from its hole," the cannibal announced, speaking into his helmet comlink. He watched from a nearby rooftop as Tithe's convoy sped away from the royal palace, peeling out as if the hounds of some Corellian hell were on their heels. With the aid of his jetpack - and many years' experience in stalking prey from the shadows - Kralmus followed their progress, flitting from rooftop to rooftop in order to keep eyes on the Chancellor's movements. He kept his distance for now; the heavily-armed vehicles would shred him in moments if they caught him out here alone. He knew to exercise a hunter's patience. After all, his prey wouldn't be getting any further.

"It's time," Kralmus said, watching the fast-moving evac shuttle approach the spaceport. "Burn the web."

A pair of Doomsayer fighter-bombers suddenly streaked down from overhead, their ion cannons blazing. They shredded the shuttle's shields in seconds with their concentrated fire, then launched a barrage of concussion missiles - probably twice as many as they actually needed to finish the job. Tithe's shuttle went up in a ball of flame in midair, shining for an instant like a second sun. Flaming debris rained down over the spaceport as the Doomsayers streaked away. Smuggling them onto the planet ahead of the coronation ceremony had been a risky move, but it'd paid off. The Brotherhood's network of criminal contacts would be well-paid for their treacherous ways.

And now the spider, gone from its hole and denied the safety of its web, had nowhere to go.

Kralmus would enjoy pulling its legs off, one by one.

A shame the actual man only had two to rip.

As the Doomsayers came around for a second pass, rocking the spaceport with another missile barrage and blowing apart several grounded starships, Kralmus moved in. He might not be able to take on a full vehicle convoy alone, but he was confident that he could shred whatever gaggle of fancy-uniformed guards the Chancellor had chosen to surround himself with. Had he known that a Jedi Knight was on-site, of course, he might have been more cautious... but also more eager. He did so love the chance to cross blades with someone who could actually offer him a challenge. He lived for the blood-pumping moments of equal combat, each move a hair's breadth from death.

And he still hadn't found out what Jedi tasted like. Did their mystical Force affect their flavor?

Activating his jetpack, he headed for the spaceport roof.

 

[Iris Arani]

It started with a whisper. Something off in the colors of the Force. Iris had come to Teta only to visit Valery Noble and Vera, to spend some time with her master. Between school and the temple, the younger Keshain was in need of a break. Her break would never come, though. Panic. Fear. Death. The shades of grey they brought stained the colors in the distance. Her pack dropped, cans clattering as she ran for the chaos. People needed help.

She was going to help.

But as she got closer, the muting of the colors, the greying, it all turned to black. It wasn't just fear. The Dark? Chaos erupted in the city. As she ran, she watched others run away. Civilians talking about the Sith attacking. The Sith were here? The Maw? Her eyes narrowed, but feeling this darkness and hearing about the attack didn't prepare her for what she came across. Mangled bodies, broken and dead. Some even by their own hand?

The colors were being consumed again. Just like on Adrathorpe, but this time she didn't have her master. Or Domxite. She stopped on the street, glancing to the bodies. The survivors. Survivors? She rushed to them, looking them over. Making sure they weren't affected. Asides from the fear they felt, they were alive. And alive was good, all things considered.

Madness, fear. Someone was forcing it onto those around them. Her gaze followed the darkness to it's source. The throne? She knew little about the political state of Teta, but she did know the Palace was.. Oh no. She grimaced before sprinting off. The Palace, there was a coronation. She followed the carnage, slipping between buildings and alleys to try and get there as quickly as she could.

Unknowingly right to the source of the madness. She ran through the halls, through the guards to try and find someone in charge, only to see the pitch black that was consuming the very colors around her. A Sith Lord. She stared at the giant, among the guards that had come to stop him. And didn't hesitate. She reached out, for the men and women around her. Touching their colors, strengthening them. Shielding them from the all consuming dark as best she could. Just the group around her, but it was enough. Shaking hands steadied as they held their weapons. Ushered the civilians to run.

If she could help them stall, surely a Master who could face them would arrive. Iris reached for the hilt of her saber as she stared up at Darth Carnifex , steely determination in her gaze. She could do this. Even without Domxite she could do this.

 

[Hex]

Location: Cave near Titan walker
Objective: Assist Hilal take out Seto du Couteau
Tags: Hilal Vizsla

Equipment: Stormtrooper Armour, NIO standard issue Pistol, Blaster Rifle and Rocker Launcher, Party Poppers (4 explosive, 3 gas)

Spoiler: Hex dialogue colors

Hex speech to others
Hex speech to herself

Hexes inner voices
Neutral
Doubt
Anger
Coloured "....." are also words that Hex can hear , but I decided not to write them to reduce clutter

Hex turned to look when Hilal Vizsla seemed angry at her, had she done something wrong?

"..stupid.. little.. girl. She knows it, you know it"

"I'm sorry Hilal, maybe theyre right and i should stay back?" shensounded like a scolded child, but then couldn't help but giggle and raise an eyebrow as Hilal scolded herself too. Maybe she had found someone as crazy as her? Or maybe whatever Hex had was catching.

"....."
"I know, I peeked too"

Hex blushed and laughed to herself, she had seen Hilal wearing the body glove before she donned the armour and it didn't look any more comfortable. Hex's small and slim frame would also have left her swamped in rolls of fabric.

"I'm a Mandalorian,"

"And you are the nicest little bucket head I have ever met." in the time she had stayed on Kestri with Hilal, she had come to know a few Mandalorians, and while they were not the same as the cultists that tried to abduct her as a child, they did seem a bit stuffy and impatient. Lots of cool weapons though" she replied to her own inner monologue quietly.

"She's scared... you should hug her"
"Well duuh!"

She skipped over, heedless of the actual imminent danger they would face and hugged her friend, the armour made it uncomfortable and it was a strange, awkward cuddle that a parent might give a spooked child.

"let's make a deal, neither of us is allowed to get the other one killed.... buuuuutt.... if it does come to that, we aren't allowed to get mad at each other." she gave a little nihilistic cackle from under her helmet at her own joke before pulling away and slinging her rocket launcher over her back. She stood in front of Hilal, legs wide with her pistol in one hand and swinging one of her braids in the other. "How do I look? Pride of the Imperial soldiery?"

 

[June Pepperpetal]

Was it possible for a prank to go too far?

June hummed in thought as she walked. Disguised as a handmaiden, it made it easy for her to observe the nobles coming to see her coronation. It's not like she needed to worry about clothing or dressing up when she could change her form to whatever she desired. People were excited. Happy. She'd only started this whole farce in an attempt to get the nobility to lighten up and enjoy themselves instead of holding to impossible standards.

Yet here she was, waiting to be crowned Empress. Truly, madness.

No, this wasn't madness. Something was wrong. The guards rushed around, towards her chamber. Oops, that won't end well if they think she disappeared. How should she play this off- Ah! Seto du Couteau ! Her eyes literally glimmered as she slipped through, stepping beside him. At first, his guard surely panicked. At least until they saw June in her form as the Empress heir, smiling calmly as she peered ahead.

"This is quite the commotion. Is something wrong Senator?"

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Empress Teta, target of the Maw.

The usually calm Jedi was anything but as he stared out the window of their apartment. This was supposed to be a safe place. A place for Vera to grow. For Valery Noble to escape from the duties of the Jedi. Gone was his smile as he listened to Vera cry. To Valery trying to calm down their daughter. He turned from the window, waving a hand to pull his saber to it as he turned his gaze to them. His family.

The anger in his eyes didn't fade, but the rest of his expression softened. He stepped over, setting a hand atop their daughter's head. Kissing her forehead. "Go." His eyes lifted to Valery, the smile turning to something of sadness as he leaned towards her. Kissing her forehead all the same. "I'll catch up." Someone had to take care of Vera. He turned, and before she could stop him he was gone.

Chaos and carnage erupted on the streets. Maw soldiers fighting, killing anyone who got in their way. Or just in their sights. At least until they set upon a lone Jedi walking through the center of the street. Kahlil couldn't save everyone. It was a reality he learned as a child, growing up among the Zambrano's. The most he could do was save himself at that time. But now was different.

Vera was never meant to be touched by war. Not like he had.

Blasterfire erupted as he walked alone. But no shot ever touched him. The Force lead him through, but he wasn't passive. Those who raised their blasters to him found those blasters heavy. Too heavy. Their whole bodies too heavy. As if gravity itself had increased they all dropped to the ground, crushed into the street. The display pulled more attention to him. More guns, more eyes.

Away from those who could only flee. Away from Vera.

A rocket came from the side, pulling his gaze. He lifted a hand. All at once it just dropped, any forward momentum gone as it crashed into the ground. Exploded. Shrapnel didn't reach him as he gazed at the one who fired. They met the same fate as the others, flattened to the ground. Then a voice.

"YOU SHOULD FIGHT BACK, YOU COWARDS!"

His gaze turned to see a Mandalorian soaring through the sky. One of the Maw? His hand lowered as the Force followed his will. Rubble and rock lifted around him. Then launched, ripping through the air towards them. A barrage trying to knock a deadly bird from the sky. He continued forward, the blue of his saber igniting as he tightened his grip around his saber.

"Fine."

Kahlil answered her. The Jedi Master was no where to be seen in his gaze. The anger and determination of a father to defend their family was the only emotion clear on his face as he glared at the Mandalorian.