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All of a sudden, the corridor was rocked by a powerful surge of telekinetic energy. Siobhan Kerrigan might have approved if she were here. The durasteel corridor rocked from the force of the blast, ceiling, walls and floor retreated from the eruption. Kaida might not have been the direct target. Nonetheless, the shockwave knocked her off feet and sent her flying. Propelled towards a nearby wall, she had the presence of mind to brace her legs and push herself off the wall rather than hitting it. However, she nonetheless landed hard on the floor. Some debris hit her as well. Pain shot through her as she got to her feet. She walked slowly.
As she made her way across the now rather chaotic corridor, her nausea increased. The Sith Lord's sorcery, combined with the fall, made her feel dizzy. Her head hurt, like a bad migraine. She breathed heavily, trying to will her body to obey her. Then her stomach lurched and spilled out its contents. Having vomited all over her visor, she reached out with a bruised hand, and pulled off her helmet.
Tossing it to the floor, she revealed a pale, scarred face. Blood and some vomit clung to her features. Her black hair was matted with sweat. Even though ice had spread across the corridor and her own breath frosted around her, she was sweating. She was running a fever. The blood that dripped from her forehead and leg wounds looked sickly. The same applied to the skin where a bolt of darkness had pierced her leg.
As she took another step forward, there was a sharp pain inside her chest, causing her to shake. With the Sith's dark power still afflicting her, she lacked the agility one might have expected from an Eldorai. All she could do against the malignant infection was try to hold it at bay - or rather slow it down - with the energies of the Force. Nonetheless, she advanced. Summoning Frost Fang into her off-hand, she ignited the navy blue blade of the ice sabre. She was closing in on the Sith Lord. Ice crunched beneath her boots.
Team Tags: [member="Luna Terrik"] / [member="Pei Ven"] / [member="Zavek Ambrose"]
---
It only really hit her when she was loading into her assigned shuttle before Zavek. And then, at that moment, as if on cue, static flowed from the comm speaker built into her helmet as it automatically switched over to [member="Darth Metus"]'s newly-created exclusive frequency and her father and Vicelord's mutter. "Stay alert and stay alive."
She'd try her damnedest. It'd be just like trying to avoid a saberjowl during a hunt, right?
Damsy nodded to herself, most likely prompting the nearby men of the squad assisting her and Zav to question the sithspawn's mentality. Was she really fit for battle? ...No, not really, at least not in a traditional sense. But what she lacked in formal training--rather than her natural hunting instincts--she made up for then and there with her motivations: she didn't want to leave any of them. Metus, Vexia ([member="Allya Vi'dreya"]), [member="A'Runda"].
Especially the latter. Maybe no one would have expected whatever had happened between them months ago on Thaere Privo to last this long. A sand-dweller and an experimental mermaid? But, perhaps despite the odds, a bond had grown there and only strengthened. It was like the golden beaches of Rishi, Damsy thought, for there the waves always lapped the sand, and, no matter how many time they pulled back out to sea, they always returned to the land.
"Callat?" Damsy looked in the direction of the call. The source was one of the veteran commandos. She rose her brows behind her sunbonnet. "You a'ight?"
"Yeah," the rookie assured with another, seemingly more present, nod. But before she could add anything more, the dark shuttle was rocked violently. The impact sent Damsy stumbling back, though she had her back virtually to the wall and was able to catch herself, and reach up to grab one of the handholds dropping down from the ceiling.
"Anti-fighter fire!" the pilot called back into the cargo hold, the cargo being troops. "Brace yourselves. This'll get rocky."
A'Runda would've probably have been better off in a boarding ship then in his old rust bucket, but The Tribe 1 was the only thing he really knew how to fly. Instead he was gonna need to find a place to board his ship, most likely all will be in a sort of lock down mode so invaders can't just jump in too easily. Meaning he'll need to break in. Flying over the expansive orbital structure he kept his eye out, and surely enough he spotted what he was looking for, a Docking Clamp.
Swiftly he attached his ship to it, hearing the loud metal locking and the stabilization of pressure. Once that was done and A'Runda made his way to the entrance it was indeed locked from the other side. But this was not a big deal for the Tusken. Summoning his lightsaber hilt to his palm, he ignited the crimson blade of light and plunged it into the hatch to get into the orbital structure, proper. Once the metal began to heat up he'd make a circular motion with his lightsaber until he'd cut out a hole big enough for him to get through. As he finished the metal hatch fell to the floor on the other side, and A'Runda stepped into the much larger structure. It was certainly much more spacious then his old ship.
However, the entrance he made was then sealed off by some kind of emergency hatch or blast door. Someone in a control room must've saw that he'd taken the liberty of "opening" it for himself and sealed it with a backup. Meaning he wasn't gonna get back into his ship anytime soon. This realization had him understand that he was in the thick of it now, and with that he was reminded of [member="Damsy Callat"]. Meaning he shouldn't do anything too reckless. There was someone he'd very much like to see after this and he was sure they shared the sentiment. But for the task at hand, he needed to find some Jen'ari to take down.
Unknown Regions // Path of the Houses // Copero System Taskforce Myrmidon, Contracted to Serve the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Bellerphontes - Class Stellar Quinquereme - GCV Angelus Command Deck - Astarii Saren, Thychani Trierarch, Taskforce Commanding Officer. Confederate Allies: [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Darth Tacitus"] | [member="Rick Kaloo"] | [member="Aedan Miles"] | [member="Archim Calixis"] | [member="Alessandra Creed"] Jen’ari Hostiles: [member="Diarmid"] | [member="Darth Animus"] | [member="Gida Freetaa"] Composition: See linked Gdoc for any Relevant Links, and an expansion of any hits taken, or targeted vessels.
During the last leg of reversion, between the time since the warning klaxons sounded and their sudden emergence into realspace, an air of tension gripped the Command crew. They knew little of what awaited them on the other side and expected to revert into the heart of a battle - only to be easy prey for the titans amongst the stars. However, as everything before the staggered flotilla stretched back into their natural states, the engagement seemed lacklustre. From all of their actionable intelligence, and from the rumours that floated across time and space - Astarii expected more. She wasn't familiar with the operations of the Ascendancy, or their Jen'ari puppet masters, but there was a slight glimmer of hope - that she'd finally meet a foe worthy of her attention.
Sadly, it seemed that this ashen revenant of the past ascribed to a similar, and utterly exploitable doctrine that was common amongst the Old Imperial Bloc. They, like many Imperialists, relied heavily on larger warships to carry the day - hybridizing the capabilities of a battleship, and a carrier into a single vessel. This design choice, while admirable from an economic standpoint, was nothing more than a mistake from the tactical angle. Critical systems would be deprived of their surface hardpoints, leaving several gaps in their supposedly layered, and possibly automated lines of defence. There was a chance that those designs were simply an aesthetic choice, which belied her assumptions, and would offer her a modicum of excitement. Such revelations would take time, however, and it'd be ill-spent if she waited until such truths to become clear.
Instead, the former Alliance and Imperial Admiral devoured the information gathered by their conditional access to the Confederate BattleNet and their own flotilla’s sensors. There were some troubling reports that made Astarii’s brow furrowed in frustration. While she could understand that they were essentially fighting an ancient, but reborn empire - alongside their unwilling puppets - it seemed utterly foolish to level the promise of genocide against a possible ally. They could’ve utilized the divide between a hostile foreign power laying claim to a long-standing and primarily isolationist breed of ancient humans. Their paymasters could’ve utterly destabilized this sector - ensuring the costly demise of the Jen’ari, as the Chiss of the Chiss Ascendancy would’ve fought to reclaim their proud heritage with much of the Galaxy by their side. Now? All they’ve done was ensure the wolf was backed into a corner - emboldening them to their cause of survival.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes after devouring the screed of information that danced across her command throne’s terminal. This wasn’t going according to plan. The orbital battle was nothing short of an uncoordinated mess. Yet, despite its surface appearance, there was a chance that the entire operation could be salvaged. But, the more and more she thought about it - the more the Hapan realized that she wasn’t in overall command. Her position was that of the ‘Hired Help.’ She and the ships under her command were merely additional bodies to throw atop the pyre, should their paymasters desire it. Thankfully, Khonsu negotiated the Right of Refusal and thus was capable of utilizing that in some capacity. She already gave several Confederate commanders a piece of her mind, when they demanded that her vessels act as the Vanguard for this assault. As they were seemingly the last to spill out of hyperspace - well, one could imagine how that went down.
That impetuous choice led to the activation and subsequent sustainment of their Hyperwave fields through arcane technologies - which permitted the Gilded Flotilla to bypass the majority of the recently reactivated minefield that lingered in the dark. Their vessels were safeguarded from the tragic fate that befell the Veil, which led the Thychani Trierarch to smile ever so slightly as she coated her tongue with yet another portion of recaf. When her moment of petulant glee faded, she began requesting status updates from her fellow commanders - and seeking out the nearest prey for them to hunt. As the staggered formation of starships sailed across the bespeckled ocean of infinite black, Astarii’s demands were met with varied answers - each filling in measured pieces that would eventually become the whole. Even with their admittedly late arrival, there was little that could be done to aid the Confederacy at that very moment. They would need to soar closer, and like her earlier thought regarding surprise and aesthetics, such an eventuality would take time.
Therefore, she would order her forces to draw in the light of the nearby star and ensure their respective weapons were charged and ready for battle. Until that appointed hour, and when the battle was joined, Astarii carried on reviewing the various updates that scrolled across her terminal - and declined to personally update one of the Confederate’s higher-ups when she respectfully demanded a situational appraisal. She would let one of her underlings handle that, as the woman believed it was not only beneath her - but such a distraction would take away from the ever-shifting pieces displayed on a hololithic screen before her. If she gave in to such demands, it was likely that she’d miss something crucial, and end up losing the opportunity to be the knife that parts flesh; and possibly landing the killing blow against this burgeoning empire.
As if on cue, the flickering azure image of the battlefield was replaced by a materializing warhelm, bearing the signature crest of a Twisuns Praetor. Silently cursing her luck, Astarii placed her ceramic cup down and rose from her gilded throne. “My Lord, Amon,” She began, after offering a subtle bow as the encrypted connection stabilized. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your interruption?” The voices of her command crew, once loud, had become hushed whispers as they sought to carry on with their duties - whilst their commanders spoke. The Hapan noticed the sudden change in the atmosphere but paid little heed beyond recognition. It wouldn’t do her any good to showcase anything that could be perceived as a weakness to one of the Sun Guard’s elite.
“I will keep this brief,” Khonsu began, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. “As the Sith Empire besieges the Ascendancy’s Capital, I want your forces to deny our mutual enemy the possibility of reinforcement. Keep them contained within Copero, and destroy the Chiss if you must. Leave the Jen’ari nothing to reclaim, if the battle turns sour.”
“And what of the Obsidian Protocol?” She asked, subtly patting the elegant weapon lashed to her hip.
“As previously discussed, when the appointed deed comes to light, you will see it through to the end. No matter the cost.”
No matter the cost. Such dark words of portent, rife with the ever-changing tendrils of destiny. It almost brought a smile to her patrician face. Almost.
“Very well, Lord Amon. I shall see that it is done.”
With a nod, the transmission was terminated on either end - leaving nothing but muted silence in the technological apparition's sudden departure. A heavy sigh slipped through her supple lips, shattering the tension that seemingly gripped the command bridge. “Alright, boys and girls. I want that tactical map back up, and consistently updating in two-second intervals. I want any and all possible targets painted, and our targeting telemetry uploaded to my terminal. Scan the surface of the moon as well, I want to see if the Chiss -- or Jen’ari thereafter planted any surprises for us.” The Thychani Trierarch was a dervish, as she danced around the command deck - issuing orders to the respective portions of her command crew. Every vessel within the task force was to initiate full burn and close the gap between the nigh-outer system edges and the planet itself. They’d approach their allied forces along a parallel plane, but leagues above them - almost in line with Copero’s northernmost polar regions.
“Preliminary sweeps from the Confederacy report nothing on the lunar surface, ma’am.”
Astarii clicked her tongue and felt her brow drop ever lower. “I don’t care what their sweeps picked up! You will do what I’ve ordered, and transmit your findings to my terminal. I want to see it with my own eyes.” Her gaze was unwavering, and never once left the newly materialized tactical display as she spoke. An immaculate finger rest atop her chin, as her dark eyes darted across the hololithic representation - seeking answers to questions yet formed. She would find what she was looking for, and when the time came, she’d order her subordinates to see that her will was carried out.
“What of the Planetary Shield around Copero, ma’am?” Another voice called out from amongst the gathering of enlisted personnel and their superior officers.
“Unless otherwise ordered, or an opportunity arises for us to aid the Confederate assault, we’ll stay the course and fulfill our mandate.”
Location: Planetside, Outskirts of Copero City Primary Objective: Support Allies Secondary Objective: Find a McYodas. Get a Happy Meal. Gear: Robes | Lightsaber | Combat IFAK | Switch | Headphones Team Starchaser: [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Amilthi Camlenn"] | [member="Mishel Noren"] | [member="Kayla Wylen"] Somewhere, Out There (If Love Will See Us Through...): [member="Cay-yo"] | [member="Madison Liddell"]
Staggering out of the escape pod, a giggle escaped from out of the Nautolan as he found that felt as though the planet were moving. His equilibrium was trying to stabilize in response to being back on solid ground.
“I’m…fine. Just need a second.”
The way in which Coren spoke caused the young Nautolan to pause. The child's carefree expression faltered as a moment of concern pierced through the veil of innocent youth. The boy watched as the wearied and haggard Jedi Master was attended by the S'kytri woman.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” the boy overheard Coren boast, though in the same winded tone.
Bringing his arms up, the young Nautolan brought his palms together. Rubbing his hands in a circular motion, the boy's large abyssal eyes seemed almost illuminated as the smokey swirls within the inky black sclera moved while the boy started gathering the Force. A gentle pulse seemed to move around the group, as the Light Side moved through where a small boy was centering himself for a moment.
Even as Zak stretched his arms out toward the haggard Jedi Master, he could hear the bossy lady behind him. She was on the comlink, announcing their arrival to... well, whoever was calling the shots here.
Zak really had no idea who that was. Or even how that all worked.
Really, he had no idea why they were even here. Except that there were Jedi here. And there wasn't a lot that Zak could do, other than what little support he might offer.
The Force flowed out from the boy toward Coren, offering possible respite that might restore the winds to his proverbial sails.
Location: atmosphere, then planetside, outside of Copero City Equipment: lightsaber, black robes, tracking device, comlink Opposition: [member="Madison Liddell"] | [member="Cay-Yo"] Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Zak Dymo"] | [member="Kayla Wylen"]
The escape pod opened automatically, its sensors having determined the planet to be habitable, and revealed a rough mountainous landscape. The colourful streams of plasma that shot from the ground into the sky guided the gaze immediately towards Copero City, located at some distance from them and still higher up.
The rest of them had no such luxury as Mishel's mount or Kayla's wings, and would not be so mobile. What was more, they themselves did not know where precisely to look for the shield infrastructure. It was lucky enough that they had landed so close to the city, but they might still go for hours without finding their target. From a purely technological point of view, this whole mission hadn't been quite thought through.
The sensation of the wind coming down from the mountains, chilly as it was, was pleasant on her face. Oddly enough, despite the miserable feelings of all the beings around her near and far and even her own, Amilthi felt a certain kind of peace. Standing outside, she turned her head to Coren and smiled. "Next, we find out where to go." Hopefully, the ongoing battle would buy them some time and the Jen'ari Empire would not immediately run after the object that had come down from the sky - and perhaps they had missed it altogether.
"Wake me up before someone shoots me." She sat down on the ground cross-legged, cupped her hands in her lap, and closed her eyes. Time seemed to slow down and the sequence of sensations became erratic. Sight was the first to disappear. It was not even that the coloured shapes one saw with closed eyes were replaced with pure darkness - rather the whole notion of sight was gone, an entire modality of perception disconnected from her mind. Soon enough only the awareness of her breath was left, drawn out, seemingly slowed down, taking forever, but still marking the passage of time. Then it ceased.
Only pure thought was left. The very notion of perception had dissolved, and with it the sense of time. Suddenly reality was no longer made of perceptions, but of facts. An infinite, amorphous mass of facts. It was as if all the work that Amilthi had done over the years in taking apart perception into its smallest constituents would have to be done again, and she had not progressed far on that new path.
***
Amilthi had no idea how much time had passed when reality assembled into its more familiar form again, but subjectively - to the extent that that word meant anything - it was long. Objective reality, of course, was a different matter. Her eyes were open again, and she saw the city, but it was difficult to grasp the significance of it, or her own presence and its purpose. She looked confused, but felt no alarm.
She turned around and looked at the people who at the moment she couldn't quite place, but there was a vague feeling of familiarity, and she had a clear intuition that they were friendly. "What are we doing here again?" she asked with a wry smile.
Location: Orbital Shipyards Objective: Secure Primary Reactor Engaging: [member="Kaida Taldir"]
The Sith slumped on the floor in an ungainly pile, his left arm still trapped in ice hanging above his body, torn away at the shoulder. Cold blood leaked from the dismemberment, staining the frozen durasteel as he hauled himself to a crawl. “It has been a very long time since I’ve died.” He muttered, as though speaking to someone else, some unseen figure looming over him. His muttering seemed inane, as though the sith was stressed beyond imagining as he tried to regain control of himself and had taken to speaking his thoughts aloud. His arm was missing, the very air against his wound stung. His abdomen was pierced, leaking more fluids into his intestinal cavity and onto the deck of the station. He was in far more desperate straits than he was used to.
Pain caused him to stumble, keeping him from getting back on his feet. Inside mechanics had begun evacuating the chamber and were working at computer terminals, frantically trying to lock everything down despite of the battle that had just tore through the security measures around the primary reactor. They were busy trying to prepare to leave, no one wanted to be point black while two powerful Force-users unleashed upon one another, certainly not the station shuddering bolts they had been flinging thus far. Orthus however still needed to deactivate the safety measures on the station, something they could help with. Of course he could have forced them to bend to his will had not so much of his power and stamina not been spent fighting the Cryomancer. His position was best suited for away from battle, where he could perform his rituals and control the minds of his allies and enemies alike to turn it to his best advantage.
Here and now, he was pressed. His mortality strained against his will, holding him from doing so. He could either command them, or complete his objective. He lacked the strength for both at this time. He would have to get more creative and hopefully use her to destroy some of the countermeasures within the room.
Muttering in an ancient dialect, he marked his chest with a pair of runes, burning into the cloth with a bright red sigil. One for ‘Fire’ the other for ‘Explosion’. He’d read about soldiers laying their wounded on grenades, but this crude rune etching would have to suffice.
Time, he needed time and this hound would not let up. “If you have any children, you have piqued my interest. One of your bloodline would make a magnificent neophyte.” He sputtered, between grunts of pain, calling back to the approaching Eldorai. He meant no ill will in the remark, such was beneath a being as ancient as he, and it radiated in the Force that he seemed genuinely curious as well as the power being imbued into his clothes.
The Sith Lord was down on the ground. Alas, Kaida was not doing well either. She had not lost a limb, but the Force sickness was taking its toll on her. The sharp pain inside her chest caused her to wince. Her breathing had become ragged and she was wheezing. Her muscles ached. Pain is just weakness leaving the body, she repeated the words inside her head like a mantra, as if trying to compel her body to obey the way she did her soldiers. Where there was a will, there was a way. It was all a matter of discipline and willpower. Matter would bend to her mind.
She heard the words of the Sith. Much of it sounded like inane babble. She could not understand Sithese. However, she sensed Sciiac energies flow through the Sith. Whatever it was, he was up to something. She figured it was more of his sorcery. Whatever it was, it put the frost elf on edge. As she closed in, she coughed up dark blood. It intermixed with the ice that had accumulated on the floor. Her vision grew blurry. At first she saw two old 'friends'.
One was a towering amazon clad in armour, the other dressed in a fine silk gown bedecked with gems. "Oh, thine worshipful believer, this Paragon doth confess her true and unblemished love to thou." The Eyrecae of the vision had an even more olde time vocabulary than usual. "Oh glorious and holy manifestation of the Goddess, I swear that you are far better with me than that goddessless renegade. Praise Ashira for bringing us together!" The Vaena of the vision meanwhile seemed both more spiteful and more unduly pious. Was this how Kaida subconsciously saw them? Possibly.
"Stupid. What do I care where hammer girl goes," she grunted. Of course she knew Eyrecae would never fall for the choir singing, stupid Vaena over her. Not that she cared. She coughed up more blood. Her throat was sore.
Suddenly she heard a voice. You abandoned me, it spoke. It was a voice she had not heard in many years. It belonged to her sister Lavina. Her dead sister. Then she saw her. Lavina was on the ground, covered in blood. You choose the Matriarchy, your Angelii and your bloody 'duty' over your family, the apparition sneered hatefully at her. You abandoned them all! Now it was no longer just Lavina. Rather it sounded like a thousand voices spoke in unison while the image of a huge asteroid smashing into the surface of Kaeshana and laying the planet to waste flashed before her eyes.
Anger rose inside her belly like bile. "Shut up," she growled. The Sith Lord might think that she was responding to him. Regardless, she had enough of these games. Her lightsabre glowed with a fierce orange light light. Standing above the Sith, she delivered a furious downward cut towards his torso, aiming to carve through his chest.
He looked up at the team. Mishel, Shia, and Mara had their own thing to do, and that was fine. They needed to get the shields down to get the fleet to the ground. And the rest of the troopers. Coren was here because there was a dark sider raising some new empire. And that wasn’t something Starchaser was going to stand for. The man had a few reasons to agree with the leadership of the Confederacy here. And with the amount of darkness around? There were plenty to remove from the galaxy. But he knew there were a few others.
Still, that didn’t matter right now. He nodded to Kayla and turned to Zak. That little Jedi had come a long way. He knew the name in passing but here he was charging him up? Coren took a second before grabbing another breath. He could feel a bit of the reserve filling in, and that tell-tale ‘we can do this’ grin came back across his face. Looking at Amil as she came out of her reverie.
“Well, I think we need to create a bit of a distraction for Mishel… I can feel the darkness, why don’t we get their attention.” He grinned, looking at Zak and Kayla. “You two ready to help the ones that need it?” He stood up, looking out on the direction Mishel wasn’t going. Darkness was there, and he knew he could get the attention. Reaching into the wetware, he was selecting a bit of music and a second after he stepped onto the streets, a telltale guitar riff that anyone in any galaxy should know came blasting from his cybernetic arm.
And that was when his lightsaber ignited, as he stepped out into the fray, all but taunting the dark side to come at him
"At my what?!" Mishel shouted as her lightsaber clashed against the vibroblade, she had heard the thunderous crash of Shia and her droid before her she spotted them. Mara meanwhile was busy thrashing a trooper with her jaw. She stepped back ready to swing with her lightsaber just as the Mandalorian finished him and anything else that had been alive between her and Mara. "Right." Complex door, okay - well it was locked, of course it was and that meant she'd have to figure a way in. There was a keypad nearby and so she shifted her lips to the side. "Anyone know how to- you know what, forget it." Mishel created a fireball in the palm of her right hand and focused on the fire, focusing on the heat. Focusing for the next minute she willed the fire's heat into her hand.
Mara shoved Mishel out of the way while transforming back into human form, and smashed the keypad in with a single punch. "Let's go sunshine."
"Way to steal my thunder," Mishel complained.
"I'd feel bad, but you didn't have any thunder to steal my dear. Now let's get this tag up." Mara replied, "you two head up I'll guard the entrance."
Fetching a tag from her vest the Tygaran rushed into the complex throwing a Force barrier around both her and Shia. More guards within the complex rushed out and began firing, tag in hand she knew they had to reach the main room. Taking the barrier's energy she pulled it back toward her with a move of her hand, and threw it toward a set of guards knocking them down like pins. "Generators, generators, generators." She repeated beneath her breath, "Ashira's tits where are these guys coming from?!"
"I'll be right back," Mishel started into a sprint and then willed the Force to her once more, running faster than most of the guards could see. She primed the tag and threw it toward the generator and smirked when it lit up. "Okay, let's head out to the next generator." She remarked as she came to stop beside Shia, and waited for Mara to join them.
Location: [Orbit of Copero - En Route to Planet via Scimitar] Tags: [member="Kurenai Yumi"] | [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] | [member="Darth Metus"] and so so many more... Ally: CIS Enemy:TJE
“Perhaps…But I am not a Knight, little friend. You must find peace. We are not going to die Journey. Not here.”
The little shard companion was amusing, though, the little Exarch was feeling less and less capable of such luxuries. The Confederacy had managed to remain in good spirits throughout their travel from the Southern Systems to the Northern Threat—but that would change. Wars such as these always brought about fluctuations in the people fighting it. It was ugly, graceless, and no matter the time it consumed it was always an act of attrition.
A few others from the Dining Hall, [member="Kurenai Yumi"] among them, joined her in the shuttle. Was [member="Koda Fett"] joining them? She felt her skin crawl. He claimed to be the last one standing…Though had he really been standing when a building fell on him? That seemed unlikely, however, she supposed it counted as standing when he ran away.
Srina could also feel her Master, [member="Darth Metus"], arrive to the shuttle and the young woman settled in to receive the situational reports that she had requested. She felt infinitely more secure with the Vicelord present and her aura would express that, reaching out, lighting up as it swelled to meet him. She knew his concerns. She knew his fears, though, deeply hidden. Srina offered her Master security. Stability.
The Confederacy, and his children, could do this. It was what they had trained for.
The channels went silent when the Vicelord gave a small speech. It was a far cry different than what any of them would have heard before. It was short, but poignant, and the Apprentice could not help but take a mote of reassurance from it.
[SIZE=14pt]”Break. Through.”[/SIZE]
As Darth Metus commanded it would be done. It was only a matter of time.
Aside from the mishap with the Veil, due to a miscalculation, it seemed that the Jen’ari forces were scattered. Thin. More than anything it seemed to be the Chiss forming applicable defenses. The white-haired woman could not blame them. Not truly. They had come on the wings of war to decimate anything, and everything, they held dear in order to deal with a growing cancer.
The Chiss Ascendancy, as a whole, had publically chosen the wrong horse to back. Regardless, it wouldn’t be the first time, or the last, that a population suffered from the decisions of their leaders. In order to quell the Jen’ari… War. Total conflict.
It was the only way.
‘[member="Mauer"]…Please, standby. We expect that the planetary shields will fall soon.’, she transcribed to the Iron Warden, mindful, that although their transmissions were double encrypted that they should be kept to a minimum. The holo-model he provided went across her comm and silver eyes viewed the battle as easily as if she had full access to a holo-table. She forwarded the data to [member="Darth Tacitus"] on the Fortressa as well so that it could be dispersed to their allies. ‘This will do nicely. Thank you.’
Mauer really had outdone himself. It would let the Exarch passively keep an eye on the space battle whilst tending to their own missions once they made landfall. The next report came from a former Viceroy, [member="Jorco Czeku"], and she made a mental note to keep an eye on the politician turned pirate. For this mission, and many others, he certainly served their needs. ‘Good to hear it. Be prepared to move and give your…War dogs, my best.’
From the Princess Leia she received an update from [member="Shia Kyrze"]. Her familiarity with the Mandalorian on a personal level was slight, though, she had worked with the majority of the crew during the battle of Skor II. Some of them she had seen on Monastery after the destruction of the Core. One, she knew to be related to the Minister of Commerce. Another, [member="Zak Dymo"], left her unsettled. An Echani ensured that all knew how to fight. From cradle to the sword. He was young. By typical standards, or that of a clone, young—and it made her look twice. ‘You’re beneath the planetary shield?’
It wasn’t impossible, after all, the Stealth Scimitar’s and Drop Pods they utilized had technology capable of passing through it. Soon they would be in the same position.
‘Acknowledged, Leia. Please keep us posted, though, we’re right behind you.’
More or less, the entirety of the CIS war effort was right behind them.
[member="Archim Calixis"] was a creature that Srina had never quite figured out. A cyborg, certainly, but capable of so much more than others she had met. There was no small wonder they allowed the Viceroy to turn Zhar into his own personal playground for robot-kind. His transmission that they had arrived to the Copero System was comforting and she could see his attack rain forward into Chiss defenses via the holo-model that [member="Mauer"] provided. The Mechanus Armada was formidable. ‘Understood, Viceroy Calixis.’
He didn’t require anything else. No pleasantries, no encouragement, simply a notification that the transmission had been received. He knew what to do.
Then came the status report from the Veil. [member="Adron Malvern"] informed her what had become of his prized SSD and the silvery-haired woman sighed. Their initial foray into this fight seemed successful, however, the cost was more than any had anticipated. He seemed confident that he would have the Veil up and running and Srina could only have faith in his abilities. “Do not fail.”, she responded simply, coldly, though her fellow Exarch would read between the lines.
If Adron died…Srina would miss him. She had not given him permission to do so yet.
Srina was jostled in her crash webbing none too gently when the Scimitar began to encounter defensive fire, forced to dodge through attacks from both sides, but still she reviewed the notifications that came pouring in. She could feel Journey’s sadness at potentially being destroyed and reached up to secure the floating Shard. She didn’t want him flying into any walls when they suddenly banked right or left.
When the Scimitar leveled she also responded to [member="Amilthi Camlenn"] who offered up more good news. The removal of the shielding was paramount to their operation. They could do plenty of damage regardless, but if they truly wanted to cripple the Empire, everything needed to go. No aid, no ships, no planetary resources. ‘Acknowledged. Do what you can but do not expend yourselves unnecessarily.’
Word from the Fortressa, from [member="Darth Tacitus"], gave more detail that the holo-model did not. Srina did not respond to the Sith Lord other than to confirm receipt of the information. It wasn’t out of disrespect, far from it, she simply didn’t want to distract him. He had to take care of many moving parts and so long as things were running smoothly the Exarch had no concerns. The Orbit of Copero was a battleground in which Tacitus excelled.
[member="Luna Terrik"] chimed in to report that their team would soon be at the shipyards. Srina nodded her head, absently, whilst trying not to let it bang off of anything while [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] piloted. [member="Rick Kaloo"]. Pickle Rick, was next. Srina wasn’t certain how to describe what she felt about calling a Jedi a Pickle in the middle of a warzone but it didn’t change the facts. The Admiral was doing incredibly well at adapting as the situation changed. ‘Thank you for looking out for the Veil. You shouldn’t have to wait too much longer for the shielding to drop. It is a work in progress.’
________________
Location: [Planetside - Copero City - Near Parliment Building] Friendly Tag: Anyone that was in the Scimitar Enemy Tag: Soon to be...[member="Cay-Yo"] and [member="Madison Liddell"] [Please note: Shifted to "Ground Battle" per DM from [member="Darth Animus"]]
Eventually, communications scattered, while they descended through the atmosphere. Cardinal had their intended target. Copero City was vast, wide, and seemed to contain most of the governing bodies. The defenses that the city maintained were impressive, however, so was the stealth capability of the Scimitar. They flew low and slow, mindful of a decent place to land, though it wouldn’t be easy. They'd definitely taken a few glancing blows on the way in, but, that was more the arena of the Dominus. He was the pilot and would report as needed. If the ship got destroyed they could call for another—But it would be more efficient to keep it whole.
When the Scimitar settled the young woman unhooked her crash webbing. They were on Copero. Finally. The Planetary Shield was still up, but, some of their forces could slip through. It was at their own peril, but, technology made it possible. Their first target? The parliament buildings. [[member="Cay-Yo"] and [member="Madison Liddell"]]
Taking leave from the ship was easy enough. The streets of Copero City were in a state of anarchy. Rioting. There was so much fear in the air that it felt like thick tar. From a building adjacent to Parliament, Srina felt confusion, because much Lore of the Chiss claimed that they were extremely military-minded. Perhaps she had misunderstood. Through a pair of monoculars she could see what appeared to be local militia and other groups trying to hold the crowd in check…But it didn’t seem to be working.
Her gaze paused on the steps of Parliament. Was that blood? Were those bodies?
Death.
Though, strangely enough, not of their own making. Her observations would be made known to all that traveled with her.
“They cannot control the civilians. They are…Killing their own?”
The Sith Lord smiled behind his mask, more so to distract himself from the throbbing pain coursing through his entire body than to express any emotion. His fingers and toes were still numb from being frozen, his shoulder radiated agony with every beat of his heart, and blood drained from him. The Sith’s vision blurred as the loss of blood began to take its toll on his borrowed body. But he wasn’t the only one suffering.
Crawling into the reactor chamber he could hear the buzz of the miniature star in the core of the chamber, the hum of nuclear fusion on a celestial scale that was required to power such a massive enterprise as the Orbital docks, large enough to Star Destroyers and Battlecruisers at once. Chiss hurried out as they attempted to evacuate, either frightened by the explosive uses of the Force the two unbridled warriors had been hurling at one another, or trying to avoid the battle altogether.
Orthus rolled to his back, dragging himself away from the approaching cryomancer. She cursed at him, grunting her own babbling. “Shame. I quite enjoyed our chat.” He rasped out with a cough that tasted of blood, his lungs punctured by the ice spikes from earlier. The red markings on his chest were exposed, and she seemed determined to end their confrontation. There was little he could do to stop her after having been so grievously damaged throughout the battle. The Lord of Truth had to accept that he was going to die, now it was all about whether he could still accomplish his goals before the bell tolled.
She stood over him, blood and bile staining her chin from the disease that wracked her body. A blade the color of the sun struck downward into his chest, slashing and burning through major organs. They said the brain had seven minutes or less after the body died of consciousness, he would be testing that theory it seemed. The Force alone held his spirit within the vessel, a gasp that tasted like burning flesh in his throat escaped him. On instinct he slammed his open palm, dark with blood, against his chest, pressing against the sigil there.
He lost sight of his foe, bright light burning from the sigil. He didn’t know how quickly she had reacted, but he had no time or energy to spare to survive the blast that launched him off the platform they had stood on, taking one of his legs with it as he fell to the catwalk below, with nothing left to fight against the woman left in his withered, dismembered body. Death circled him like a dark cloud.
Risk versus reward echoed in his head, the first doubt that his expenditure had not been worth the gain buzzed through his mind. His conviction wavered, ever so slightly.
Every sacrifice is worth it to preserve the galaxy. His body rocked, shuddering upon the catwalk, a gurgling rasp escaping him.
Laughing.
Death for him was inevitable, his remaining arm reaching out to grasp at the reactor. No telekinetic surge came from him, no blast severing molecular bonds. A reactor was effectively just a miniature star, a cosmic-scale fusion reactor burning fuel inside a container which drew energy from the chamber as it occurred to power the shipyards. The laughing Sith reached out with all that was left of his power and strength in the Force, finding the heart of the artificial star with his senses. For man-made or natural, a star was a star.
Runes, carefully prepared on his chest glowed redhot, burning and broiling against his skin. Numbness and darkness clouded his vision as his body continued to die around his spirit, no longer able to contain the Keeper of Secrets. Flares and disruptions roiled from the miniature sun, warning klaxons buzzing, emergency sounds from the reactor's core howling as the Sith began sending the star into first stages of a celestial detonation. Bright light peered through the chamber, blinding to those who attempted to look directly upon it.
"E̺͓̦͚̪̫v̤̣͚e̟r͝y͇͉̱̬̞o̘͠ǹ̫̬̲̯̭ͅe͈̻̹̣͉̦̕ ̻̫͕ḍ̸͓̝ie̴͙̘̼͙̱̗s̰.̯̹͉̮̫" A dozen voices erupted from his mouth as the last whispers of life escaped the corpse-king.
She stood over the Sith Lord. Blood and bile staining her chin from the disease that was wracking her body. Her sun coloured blade struck his chest, carving through major organs. She felt his life force leave his corporeal shell. But this was not yet the end. Ere she could act, his bloody palm slammed down upon his chest. Then there was a light so bright that she was forced to averte her eyes, for it was painful. Then there was a massive blast. The Sith fell down to the catwalk below them. Kaida herself was knocked off her feet. As she arose, coughing and wheezing, she heard his laughter. More pertinently, she beheld a star going nova. Her eyes burnt. Pain flared through her skull. She could...not see. Alas, she had been forced to discard her helmet earlier. There was a horrible, searing burn in her eyes.
It was all a blur at this point. Alarm sirens howled. Outside there were voices of alarm, each growing louder with every moment. Red lights and emergency sirens filled the shipyard. Anyone aboard who was even remotely sane would have one goal: get the hell out before the shipyard was destroyed. The Shadow Knight forced herself to stand. As she managed to arise she staggered. Her body ached as she tumbled through the reactor chamber. Somehow she managed to avoid bumping her head into the door or slipping on the ice. When she reached the corpses of the Chiss security team outside, she stumbled and fell.
Get up, she urged herself. Managing to rise, she stumbled out. On the way she heard noise. Fortunately, her enhanced hearing still worked. Power rippled from her power, then she clumsily swung Frost Fang. There was a cry of pain. It was not from her.
"Who the hell are you?!" Lieutenant Commander Chaf'ram'thureaux yelled, clutching his thoroughly messed up right hand. "I suppose I have you to thank for this mess. This station will blow in a few minutes," as he stared into her eyes, he saw how badly they were burnt.
"Where's the hangar?" she demanded coldly.
"I can take you there," he said quickly. "I have a ship."
"You will pilot. If you betray me, I will kill you."
He took a deep breath. No doubt he was cursing his ill fortune. Only a few moments ago he had been chatting with his pal Orthus. "Follow me."
Darth Animus had barely made it to the ground of Copero before the Confederate assault had begun. He had taken to organizing planetary defenses on the ground and speaking with the Chiss leadership in private sessions while his flagship, the Eternal Fury departed from the combat zone. The vessel was still undergoing extensive repairs and refits, and was in no shape for a large scale battle. Planetary forces had been rallied, troops deployed, and defenses raised. The planetary shield had held out for a long period of time, far longer than originally planned. However, all good things had to come to an end.
Animus stood on the veranda of one of the governmental buildings within the capital city of Copero, several other Imperial and Chiss officials to either side of him all watching the same thing he was. High above, in the skies of Copero, a massive light show was being played out across hundreds of kilometers. Explosions and detonations held back by only the slimmest of barriers. A barrier, that had just lost the last reserves of power that it had. As Animus watched, the firepower that had been hitting the shield suddenly tore through in several locations, with bright beams of energy and solid weapons striking the surface of Copero, sending vibrations through his boots despite the hundreds of kilometers between them.
The battle for Copero was now going to be a ground game.
"Send word to all forces to prepare for imminent enemy ground deployment. I want all anti-air units on full alert, and to scramble all defending aircraft we have to defend directly over civilian centers. They are to defend those locations at all cost, and prevent enemy forces from landing there. Send word to all regiments across the surface to prepare for new orders, and have all rapid response forces brought to full combat readiness. The enemy will have to move first, and we must be ready for them. Now, I will leave the general tactical planning to you all. Now, if you will excuse me, I have Jedi to kill..." Turning, Animus walked off the veranda, leaving the mass of government officials and military officers to begin planning for the coming campaign.
Stepping out into the street, Animus paused for a moment, sensing where the reported Jedi forces were. The Confederate troops could be held at the walls of the city, but the infiltrators would have to be exterminated before they could get ahead of themselves. Animus was confident he would be able to neutralize them swiftly, and return to the greater battle. Jedi had a habit of sticking their noses where they didn't belong. He would just have to cure that tendency of theirs this day, by sticking their noses so far in the dirt, the only thing they would ever smell again was their own rotting bodies.
Location: The Veil | Objectives: Rally the Fleet, support the Invasion | Theme | Tags: [member="Darth Tacitus"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Alessandra Creed"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Archim Calixis"] [member="Caesar Kenway"] [member="Darth Animus"] [member="Gida Freetaa"] [member="Diarmid"]
A thin, closed lip smile spread over Adron's face as he heard the low hum of the Veil's engines coming back online. One of the head technicians turned to Adron, however the Exarch held a hand up to silence him. No words needed to be said, no reports needed to be given, The Veil was operating back at it's proper function. Thanks to the defensive sacrifice of his battlecruisers as well as a timely manuever done by [member="Rick Kaloo"] the Veil had come out of the entire incident without a scratch. His arms clasped firmly behind his back the Exarch looked to the world that laid before him with a content expression.
The light of hope was beginning to fade.
In this instance the light of hope for Copero was it's planetary shield. A vast mechanical wonder that had been ripped down by the might of the Confederate armada. Although things may not have worked precisely how the man wished they would have, Adron was proud of the Operation's success. He glanced by to [member="Alessandra Creed"], offering her a knowing smirk before he turned back to the command deck. "Patch me in to the Confederate Armada."
The Exarch would stand before the holoemitter, his image broadcasting over the Confederate fleet, relaying his words clearly. "Copero's planetary shield has fallen. We are moving to the second stage of the operation." There was a momentary pause before Adron's voice was focused towards that of his own blood, [member="Darth Tacitus"]. "Tacitus. The Jen'ari ships are still positioned to protect their ship yards. Begin the invasion, I will handle the enemy fleet." With nothing more to be said the Exarch would sign off on the holochannel and turn his amethyst eyes to the Jen'ari fleet before him. "Now, let's even the playing field. Bring the Veil alongside our Battlecruisers and prepare to fire on the enemy position."
Adron watched as his ship gave the faintest sign of a shimmer. The deflector shields would wrap around The Veil, bringing the massive warship back to a deadly stance. The ship that once stood dead, worked to move forward, bypassing the ship that [member="Rick Kaloo"] had tasked with it's defense. The enemy fleet sat behind a plethora of shielding and defenses that yet remained. As Adron eyed these defenses closely he let out a brief chuckle. The main firing system came online and one of the metallic officers turned towards Adron with an expectant look. "Sir. The automated targeting system is online. What are your orders?"
"Smash through those shields and decimate the Imperial fleet." What followed Adron's command was a hellish sight. As the Veil's escorts pulled back to allow their charge passage they were covered with a deep red hue. Everyone one of The Veil's weapon systems came online, firing through the open space and slamming into the Jen'ari's shields. Adron knew they would not be able to continue their defense for long, not against this much firepower.
Summary: With the Planetary shields failing, Adron has issued a planetary invasion of Copero. Taking command of the Confederate fleet he orders [member="Darth Tacitus"] to lead the mass excursion. With The Veil back fully functional it has bridged the short distance between it and it's escorts and has joined in the barrage of Copero's shielded shipyards, also placing it in range of enemy fire.
Insertion Fleet: Flagship: The Veil {Status: Firing on shielded Jen'ari shipyard | Shields: 100% | No Starfighters | Damage: 0%}
Escorts: The White Nova {Status: Firing on shielded Jen'ari shipyard | Shields: 38% | Starfighters prepping for deployment| Damage: 0%} The Ferocity{Status: Firing on shielded Jen'ari shipyard | Shields: 47% | Starfighters prepping for deployment | Damage: 0%}
Cardinal brought the ship down low, keeping it well hidden from any sensors the Jen'ari could employ. The ship itself was perfect for a stealth insertion and damn near impossible to detect. The Dominus Prime found a vacant landing platform in the city that could actually sustain their ship. As he brought the cloaked ship down he called out to those behind him. "We're here." The Dominus Prime stood from his seat with a slight sigh, muttering as he turned away from the controls. "I hate flying." It was true, the man would rather be torture for a thousand years than fly another ship. yet it never failed he was often forced to fly the cursed things.
His sunburnt orbs peered over to [member="Darth Metus"] searchingly as he gestured to the city around them. "This place is a damned war zone but I was able to bring us in close." He watched as Srina released Journey into the air. The small Shard hovered over Cardinal's shoulder for a brief minute before slipping out of reality and cloaking himself once again. Appropriate. It was not wise for Shard's to reveal themselves on a hostile world. A Shard of the Knight's Obsidian was worth millions of credits to the right person, as their housing units held a plethora of information. Though the Shard would have to be tortured to release the information it was possible.
Cardinal unfastened one of his Greatsword's clasps before looking to the Exarch who made her way out of the ship. "Your orders?" He called out as they moved down the loading ramp. As Srina Talon looked out with the monocular Cardinal eyed the direction she peered out towards. He could see the vague shapes of bodies laying on the ground and immediately gave a shallow sigh. "Let's bring the Vicelord's justice to this world..." He muttered. Cardinal looked to Srina before his own body seemed to fade into the darkness that surrounded them. In only a moment he would slip from sight, masking his presence on the world. "I am with you." He said with a hushed voice, as he kept himself hidden from sight but close to the Dark Lord and his Exarch.
Location Air space above Copero City, Eternal Navy, one of four Sigma-class Heavy Assault Dropships Objective Primary: Conquer Copero city; Secondary: Take the main power supply station of Copero city; Tertiary: Remove any resistance at all cost. Part of 2nd Army 'Trentheim', Eternal Army, Confederate Invasion Group Adversary The Jen'ari Empire´s forces, Chiss Ascendary forces, militia and resistance groups
Unit designation Grimus-8-2, 82nd Ultranaut Regiment Unit strength four battalions of Ultranauts; three heavy infantry, one mechanised
Finally. The ship captain just informed him that the shield had been breached and the landing could begin. With an increased humming and vibrating of the deck, Colonel Halbrecht felt the increasing speed of the Sigma-class. He had used these ships often already and was firm in its believe that they wouldn´t let him down now.
The battalion was waiting for the ramps to open and that they could finally charge into battle again. Time, the waiting, they were the true enemies of the soldier. Looking through his tactical display which puts the world in a slightly green shine, the commander was mustering his men. Some were wordlessly speaking, prayers for sure, others had their eyes closed, either deep in thoughts or actually sleeping, some were checking their weapons for the tenth time. Only few were actually talking to each other. It was the time before battle when the men didn´t need to talk, didn´t want. Mental preparation for the apocalypse of sounds, feelings, emotions and hundreds more impressions which would hit them.
While he had access to a map inside his helmet display, as well as a datapad with the necessary information, he was a oldstyle soldier. A pocket at the inside of his left wrist with a little window was showing the part of the city where they would attack with their objective being one of the largest power plants in the city.
Seated between his command unit, Halbrecht was feeling the jump into the atmosphere, the change of synthetic gravity to ordinary one, the drop in the belly and the feeling of falling. Some soldiers could never stand it and were fetching up their last meals, luckily they got out of their helmets swiftly enough. Nobody cared for it. Nobody blamed them for it. The tension in the air made it nearly ...
The ship was heavily shaking, a detonation nearby. Anti-air fire was aiming at them and dragged the Colonel out of his thoughts. Looking around, like if he could see the integrety of the ship, he was hoping that the pilots would do their job. It was when this bit of fear arose, the impossibility to influence the situation, the spark which lit the flame of courage.
"Grab your hearts brothers! We are the prophets of justice and excellency, we are Ultranauts! Worry not about your death, it will strike when it deems the time right. I don´t feel its time now. What about you? Do you want to live forever?" The Colonel´s words echoed through the four assault ships.
Four dropships of an invasion fleet which was touched by fire, more and more by every second they got closer to the surface. Thousands of soldiers and droids were landing, mostly Confederate forces, but the Eternal Empire did its part. They would do more. The smell of glory, honour and righeous enforcement was in the air.
Through the regiment com-channel the voice of the lead ships captain could be heard ... "One minute."
Adversaries: [member="Cay-Yo"] | [member="Darth Animus"] | and someone else
Allies: All other ground units of the Confederacy (please tag me)
Executed "Capital Phalanx" maneuver against Chiss forces
Fleet engaged enemy shipyards
Passed fleet command over to Adron Malvern and deployed to the ground
CNS Fortressa
In orbit of Copero
In the empty void above the blue marble that was Copero, an apocalypse was unfolding. The Chiss fought valiantly, throwing everything they had against the Confederate forces, trying their best to keep the enemy from breaching the shield that was their world's only hope against the devastation to follow. Their greatest weakness, however, was their overreliance on small, nimble ships like frigates, corvettes and blastboats. It was a mistake that the Chiss had always made, ever since the days of Thrawn, who notoriously abhorred the very idea of Super Star Destroyers. They compensated for it with their brilliant, analytical minds, which could pick apart the weaknesses in the enemy line and exploit their line of thinking against them. This would not serve them today.
Today, they were facing an enemy which had studied their tactics for the better part of two decades. One who had learned to turn their preferred tactics against them and had come up with his own ways to exploit the weaknesses in their pattern of thinking. He had wanted them to underestimate him, to see the lumbering behemoths in his fleet and mistake that for a weakness which they knew all too well how to exploit. They saw what he wanted them to see and from that point on, he dictated the terms of engagement, reeling in his prey, first with his proclamations of annihilation which forced them to reveal their hand early, then by allowing them to get close enough to take a few bites out of his fleet. The Stormbreaker had paid the price for that, sadly, one more ship added to the pyre, one more crew who's families Tacitus would be writing letters to. Such was the way of war. Lady Death always exacted her tribute.
Now it was time for the trap to close. Now it was time for the Reaper to claim his due and exact his own tribute in the blood and screams of his enemies. The complex calculations which had been running in parallel across the various ships of the fleet, with the kind of precision that only Confederate super tactical droids were capable of, were complete. The officers on the Fortressa's bridge looked to their commander expectantly. He gave the signal with a single, silent nod.
"All ships, execute maneuver!" the message reverberated around the fleet, issued from the comms station of the flagship. All around the fleet, guns which had previously fallen silent, now came alive simultaneously in a display reminiscent to the naval broadsides of old, but synchronized across the entire fleet. Every single one of the fleet's innumerable turbolasers unleashed its deadly bile. Every single hypervelocity cannon hurled forth metal at relativistic speeds. Every single missile launcher sent forth its lethal payload. The Confederate armada unleashed a wall of hellfire and brimstone upon the enemy. It whispered the promise of death to the Chiss ships, to the shield stations in its path, to anything unlucky enough to have caught the Confederacy's ire. The Jen'ari had come face to face with the full destructive might of Tacitus' Capital Phalanx.
The Confederate ships, weapons no longer silent, turned their wrath against the planetary shield and the shipyards. Hundreds of starfighters streamed forward like swarms of angry bees. Lances of brilliant, deadly light raced across the void, like cosmic greyhounds in pursuit of elusive prey. Missiles streaked across the sky, unleashing buzz droids and other horrors upon the enemy force. It was the deadly, complicated dance of naval war.
Adron's call brought a swift, precise response. With a few words, Tacitus transfered command of the fleet to his brother, calling his Wolfguards to him with a silent wave of his hand as he stepped down from the Fortressa's bridge and towards the Super Star Destroyer's cavernous hangar. Colonel Efried Halbrecht, one of the Eternal Empire's most capable officers, was already on his way towards the planet's capital, bringing with him the wrath of Nelvaan's formidable military. Tacitus ordered a final comms channel to be opened, this time to his ground troops. "You all now why we're here. What we're here to do. This is what we've trained for, what we were born for. Others have their pointless pursuits of comfort and peace. Others have their meaningless hedonistic pleasures. For us, there is only the hardship and glory of war. It our reason for being," the Reaper spoke.
"Today, we face an enemy who's boundless ego has led them to believe themselves the rightful masters of this galaxy. Today, we show the Jen'ari exactly what we Nelvaanians think of their foul ways, of their mindless pursuit of power, or the Chiss' complacency and arrogance. Today, we break their silent, ignorant peace with the bloody cries of war," Tacitus said to his troops. "You are the finest warriors in the galaxy. Strong, disciplined, loyal. The best army a commander could ask for. Make the Eternal Empire proud, today. See you on the other side, victorious."
It was not long before the capital ships began spewing forth their cargo of drop pods, shuttles and assault dropships, streaking through the atmosphere like a deadly iron rain. Soon, very soon, Nelvaan's fierce army would have its tribute of screams and blood.
Kreunai got up from her seat, small cracking sounds coming from her neck and fingers as she shook off the short trip, eyes turning to face the Dominus. "You know I could have just flown, I know I've probably not told you this but I am more or less an ace pilot, even if that is mainly with a single seat star fighter over". "But I mean if you are going to complain every time you get behidn a joy stick, I may just take the reigns instead", perhaps she should have listened to that small shard droid floating around his shoulders.
Reaching over Kurenai retrieved her weapons, giving each one a small test before hocking them to the different clamps on her armor and uniform, leaving saber and slug pistol in hand. "Well I hope it is a war zone, would be a shame to bring this much ammo and never use it, I even loaded a good amount of hard point rounds just for those heavily armored troopers they apparently have". Even now she could smell blood in the air, mixed with the foul stench of smoke and other gasses, things had certainly heated up but this day was far from over. With everything in check she followed behind Carindal to the loading ramp, rays of light replacing the artificial ones as the back opened up to the city turned battlefield.
"So our main objective it to blow stuff up right and ruin all the factorizes on this world, I should have brought my eldest daughter, she loves explosion". Coming to the end of the ramp she threw down her now burn up cigar, stamping on the flammable item, snuffing out the last of the embers fall from it's surface. "If Cardinal is going invisible and Srina is our VIP, I guess that mean I am taking point right"? She asked in a very lax sort of way, not at all bothered by the prospect of having most weapon train on her if they were to run into enemy forces.
As the Scimitar sliced through the abyss of space, he first felt the presence of the alabaster woman by his side. He felt the river of shared thoughts racing between them and delved within the waters of her confidence. In those moments - as his transmission echoed throughout the Confederate channel - he felt the worries of the moment melt into nothing. Darth Metus knew that his children would be alright, for they were there with them. Yet beyond his favored apprentice, the Sith felt the atmosphere of those aboard the Scimitar. He witnessed his sibling’s distaste of flying made manifest as they raced through the atmosphere. Their vessel was a javelin of fury, impaling through the shielding which dare impeded their progress to the ground. And, despite his distaste, Cardinal held the controls fast and ferried his brother to the surface in one piece.
By his own words, he got them close - and had done an excellent job of doing so.
In short order, ascension gripped the Vicelord and he joined his compatriots on setting foot upon the Chiss colony. And, as his boots made their first crunch upon the foreign soil, a sensation raced into his bones. He could feel it in the air. Taste in upon his tongue. It was familiar - like an old friend who had entered his peripheral view. Fear. Panic. Mayhem. The presence of these caused the beginnings of a smirk to form upon sable lips as his fingers raised his hood. Their advance forward brought the fruits of their labor into the Sith’s sulfuric gaze. The damage to the infrastructure was mounting - and the masses were wrought with hysteria. Bodies laid before them as they walked, and the Echani’s astute observation told a simple truth. They were not killed by Confederate hands, but rather their own. Darth Metus could not help but utter a half-chuckle of satisfaction at this fact.
And if, after this day, any native were to survive...they might delude themselves into thinking they understood what it meant to know Fear. They might look back upon the razing of their livelihoods and dare say that they knew what terror felt like. That the flight for survival provided them with the intimate knowledge of Dread. Yet that was a farce. A delusion of the highest caliber. To the Vicelord, to understand an ideal was to embody it. To embrace it. Simply bearing witness to the sensation was never enough - for that was just scratching the surface of the ideal. Yet this day, Darth Metus would confer upon the citizenry of Copero an a demonstration of what it meant to understand something intimately.His footsteps lulled, allowing the alabaster woman to take point before him as he centered his mind. And before the abyss began to roil forth from him - a warning slithered from his lips.
”Guard your minds, as best you can.”
Not a moment later, Darth Metus seized the terror which was running rampant throughout Copero. They were as a wild mass of hair swaying in the wind, and his was the hang to ruthlessly tug them all. The fear the populous felt would be amplified by the Corrupted Battle Meditation which radiated forth from the Sith. They not only would feel that their lives were in peril, but the very sanctity of their minds would be challenged. For some, personal nightmares would be made very real before their minds eye. For others, blind hysteria would seep into their bones to the point of madness. The stampede which saw innocent lives forfeit would only intensify with each passing moment. In an era long since past, they would the ones who wielded this might Dread Master - Yet Darth Metus did not concern himself with lofty titles from eons ago. All which mattered to the Vicelord was spreading true terror throughout the populous.
There were, of course, challenges to every aspiration. Though the might of the Confederacy laid within its Droid armies - which would feel not a thing from this widespread, mental assault - there were organic subordinates on the ground as well. Those within his immediate vicinity, who had heard his verbal warning, may have been able to take measures to reduce the rampage of terror that would indiscriminately assault their minds. Yet those beyond the reach of his voice would find themselves subject to the very same darkness as the citizenry. Additionally, this assault would elevate Darth Metus to a beacon in the Force. Any who were remotely sensitive would be able to locate the epicenter of the Phobis Assault. In his attempt to spread mayhem, Darth Metus took the gamble of becoming a high value target.
Yet, this was a risk that the Vicelord was Happy to take.
