The Imperium Will Stay Dead [Sith Empire Dominion of Bastion]

[Marcus Faust]

Coming to a halt Marcus smiled, assuming a Juyo stance, the ice blue saber in his hands had remained ignited throughout the little explosive attack. Okay maybe little was significantly undercutting it, but still. While @[member="Turin Val Kur"] may have been trying to buy his comrades some time, Marcus had no care in the world about the man's fellow Knights, they'd be cut down by other Imperials, he was here under orders from the Emperor himself, he was to bring Val Kur in.

Smirking under his helmet he lunged forward, slashing at Turin's chest with a quick strike, spinning, and attempting to bring the lightning charged blade down the Imperial Knight's arm. Orders said he was needed alive, but how alive was a completely different issue. Marcus was going to have some fun.

 

[The Hound]

The first blade, crimson and a stark contrast to the ash ridden world around him, flashed by his helmet as his own silver blade kissed his opponent's as he leaned to the opposite side. There was a terrible snap screech and a fiz as the two plasma weapons collided. That was the easy part. He knew there was a second blade coming for him...But how he would get past it without harming himself was the issue. Twirling his saber quickly 360 degrees, he flipped the crimson blade around, using his momentum, his opponent's blade and his own to parry the strange blue saber.

He needed to get away from this man.

In order to put distance between the two, Turin let loose a Force push, sliding himself a few meters back. He hadn't fought this hard since...Ever. He could feel the sweat drip down his brow now. He missed meditation.

@[member="Marcus Faust"]​

 

[Marcus Faust]

@[member="Turin Val Kur"]

As the colors clashed Marcus felt himself be pushed back by the force. Deactivating his first saber and placing it on his hip he placed both hands on the hilt of the blue blade momentarily, but then he had another idea. Freeing his left hand, he lifted it in the air and focused all his anger, all his hate, and lightning sprung forwards. A torrent of blue energy surged towards the man, and while it was not as powerful as a Sith Lord's, Marcus's lightning in particular packed a certain…punch.

 

[Methuzal]

"All of their base will belong to us!" TB-19 roared over the sound of his laser-spewing minigun, continuing to lead the advance. "Forward!"

Imperium soldiers who did not find cover found themselves facing down the greatest barrage they had ever seen in their lives. In fact, often times it was the last thing they saw. Those who did find cover found precious little room to return fire in the wake of the legion of T1s advancing alongside the blood-crazed tactical droid. Thankfully these streets were far too crowded with debris for anyone to bring in any armor. This battle would be decided by the infantry in the streets, not by any sort of armored cavalry. A refreshing change of pace, considering the last battle he had fought had been primarily made up of vehicles.

Then something turned the corner, carrying a dull grey blade of plasma... An Imperial Knight. A young looking human fellow who had come to rally the troops.

Disgusted, TB-19 brought the Reaver around to focus fire on the anonymous Knight. He didn't have time to deal with any Force Users.

 

[The Hound]

Force lightning. This was something he knew, something he could work with. Bringing his saber down upon the lighting, the plasma blade took the force of the blow. It was much harder than deflecting blaster bolts but it was working! That is..until a certain droid, @[member="TB-19"] fired on one of his Knights. He wasn't suspecting the blow and the shot had killed him instantly. Turin knew not how the knight had died, or whom had killed him, but he felt it, like a warm vibroblade had been shoved deep into his stomach.

Sometimes his connection to the ebb and flow of the Force offered him great insight into the future. Sometimes it was vague, and sometimes it gave him just enough of a cue to block what would normally be a sucker punch-like blow. This time his connection with the Force as well as his comrades brought him pain as they suffered and were snuffed out. Enough pain to shake his focus, causing him to throw his sword arm to his side, the silver blade warming the ground under his feet, and allowing the lightning a clear path.

The energy hit him in the chest like a raging wampa, throwing him back a few feet. Smoke rose from the black armor, his silver bladed saber now deactivated. Groaning he struggled to stand. This fight, was not going well.

@[member="Marcus Faust"]​

 

[Marcus Faust]

"I ask you again Val Kur, surrender. Please?" Marcus questioned, stepping towards the Imperial Knight who now struggled to stand before him. Faust sensed pain in Turin, a kind that came with loss, a kind he knew all to well. He twirled the saber as he thought, he needed to make a deal in order to seal this operation.

"Come in now, I'll issue a capture orders on the rest of your men, they will live." He offered sincerely, looking upon the man with the slightest bit of pity. It was not like Marcus to offer his targets such generous deals, then again he was supposed to kill most of his targets. This was an exception, but the offer was a one chance only deal. Best take it.

@[member="Turin Val Kur"]

 

[The Hound]

Live?
The thought crossed his mind, but was quickly quashed as the Knight pushed himself up, landing square on his feet. Anger bristled inside him at the mere suggestion of surrendering himself. "Capture?" he laughed. "Sith don't just capture other Force users. They twist and torture them until they are ready to accept their misguided philosophy." Reactivating his saber he allowed his anger to fuel him now, letting lose a violent push with the Force. The force of the attack pushed debris and ash aside as it sped toward its target. At the same time Turin lifted his right hand, concentrating. Debris all around floated into the air. Shards of glass, broken bars of durasteel, anything that he could pick up within a few feet of him floated into the air and were launched at his opponent as well.

@[member="Marcus Faust"]​

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

Krag had entered a shuttle and was now on his way to the ground, but he found himself distracted by...gifts that someone had left inside the shuttle. When he entered the ship, he found that the squad of Graug regulars he would be traveling with were digging through a suspicious cylinder container in the middle of the floor. At first he though nothing of it, as it was most likely just ammunition, but it soon turned out to be something a little more strange and unusual. Now the Sith found himself sitting in the middle of a shuttle full of half witted Graug soldiers wearing furry red caps with little white balls on the end. He felt like he was about to lead a charge against a rouge toy factory rather than a stronghold.

He tried to ignore the Graug soldiers as they grinned stupidly at the little hats and stuck them on their heads. Even though he tried, Krag failed to ignore the utter stupidity of the attire and quickly began snatching them from his soldiers "What are you idiots doing, does this look like the armor of a warrior? You look like you should be working in the Imperial bakery!" Krag growled, his grotesque teeth gritting. The Graug soldiers leaned away from their leader and gave a short growl in respectful recognition of his commands. Good, at least they still knew who was in charge here.

Krag lit the hats ablaze as the shuttle neared its drop-off point and the doors flew open. The sight the befell the Graug was a street obscured in smoke from the battle that was raging, Imperium soldiers wearing their stormtrooper armor had taken up position at the end of the street. Meanwhile his soldiers were on his end, taking cover behind the building and wearing...wait...

Spoiler

Krag snarled and as he saw that his whole army had adorned the fluffy caps of Highday as they littered the other end of the street with blaster and slug rounds alike. Whoever put those hats in the shuttles was going to have a bad day as soon as Krag got back to the ship.

 

[Onrai]

It was finished.

The Imperium ships had been devastated. Highly ionized, the defeated vessels were brought under tow, entering hyperspace on a journey to Serpena, where their crew would be incarcerated, the ships were to be examined and placed in the Serpena Storage Yards, some examples being sent to the Inquisitorius for dissection.

"I have one thing to say to any surviving Imperium forces." A comically large speaker emerged from the bottom of the Star Destroyer.

"U MAD BRO?"

 

[Marcus Faust]

"Can't say I didn't offer." Marucs sighed before springing into action. After being hurled back a good few feet, ash and dust obscured his vision as he stood back up once more, but the force was all he needed to see. He raising the saber he cut through a durasteel pipe which zoomed towards him, ducked under shards of glass, but then more came, and he couldn't stop everything. Spinning his saber at a dizzying speed he hacked through the debris, but foot long piece of durasteel managed to breach his defenses…well not entirely, it had been five feet long initially.

Regardless, the piece of metal was now jammed through his abdomen, blood seeping from the rather painful would, before he could even grab his side a piece of rubble smashed into his helmet, cracking the visor to where he could no longer see out of it. As the storm of wreckage ended, Marcus was on his knees, but he was not finished.

With his saber hand, he wretched off his helmet and hurled it aside, being careful not to slice his own face off. With the other, he pressed it to his side, using the force to seal all critical bleeding, but nonetheless he was still beginning to feel lightheaded from blood loss. Rage filled the Sith who's eyes were now nothing but yellow slits of hate as he growled. Leaping forward he launched a false strike at Turin's head, but ducked and rolled, landing behind him and swinging back at Val Kur's legs. If this worked, he'd have just forced @[member="Turin Val Kur"] to his knees, literally.

 

[The Hound]

Turin was surprised that his attack had worked. He had simply overwhelmed the Sith Knight...But apparently, nothing would keep him down, not even metal rods. Preparing himself for another attack took a few steps back in an attempt to dodge the first attack. Of course, time was ever flowing and the attack that he had seen turned out to be a feint, the real strike coming from below.

Luckily the materials used in the armor of Imperial Knights included phrik. The force of the attack itself did bring Turin to his knees. Falling forward so as to not allow the saber any more time against his armor released a weak Force Repulse in order to push his opponent away and quickly moved back to his feet.

@[member="Marcus Faust"]​

 

[Marcus Faust]

As a repulse forced Marcus to skid back across the rubble. He stood and met his opponents eyes (or where he figured they'd be under the visor), giving a hateful glare before leaping forward once more. He let loose a flurry of strikes, one at his stomach, two at his arms, and a series of jabs at his gut. All the while the lightning charged blade would let off some of it's energy into Turin, giving him some jolts of pain as the lightning glanced his armor. Nothing major, but it'd hurt, like a besting or some such.

@[member="Turin Val Kur"]

 

[Saelia Santori]

The MRX-BR reverted from hyperspace in the Bastion system and immediately its pilot turned on its transponder. In the communications control center in the central portion of ship, Saelia Santori stood at the central console, tapping her fingers against the railing that ringed the tactical map. "Imperial Forces, this is Administrator Saelia Santori of Dubrillion, here to offer my assistance in stamping out what remains of the Imperium. Please advise how I can be of assistance."

Through the Force, Saelia felt a familiar presence: that of her apprentice and colleague, Gregor Gideon. She reached out in the Force, letting her mind touch his gingerly, like a gentle tap on the shoulder. He seemed preoccupied... any greater intrusion would not be warranted.

@[member="Gregor Gideon"]

 

[Methuzal]

The Imperial Knight darted away from TB-19's stream of laser fire, the bolts impacting the ground as the droid struggled to bring the weapon to bare properly. No such luck. The Knight vanished into an alleyway. That temporary preoccupation gave the opposition some actual time to peak out from cover and return fire, a few of the T1s falling under sudden return fire. Unacceptable. If he returned to providing support fire for the rest of his team, he would be preoccupied if the Imperial Knight returned and thus vulnerable. If he camped out and waited for the Imperial Knight to resurface, it would mean an increased possibility of the enemy soldiers beating back the T1s. Oh, decisions, decisions. Thankfully this post was nothing but filler, and so TB-19 did not yet reach a decision on the proper, most tactical course of action.

 

[Darth Vazela]

Almania system, in orbit of Almania.

The doors slid closed and the lift returned down the chute to the next level, to whatever crew man or woman had called for it. Compressed air leaked over the polished gray durasteel before dispersing to the sides, leaving the reflection of a dark, hooded individual on it's walkway. Overlooking the bridge, Darth Vazela began the cross the erected bridge that connected the life and observational deck, walking over the bridges crew who worked underneath, in the operations area. Sat in a seat on a plinth raised above the other stations, a man turned in his seat to follow the progress of the Sith Lord. Malus Bligh, commander of the Obscurity, rose to his feet to climb the ladder hanging over the block of durasteel that kept the walk way up. When he climbed onto the path, he turned into the observational deck to follow Vazela.

Tucking his hands into his sleeves, Vazela stopped at the transparisteel screen that overlooked his devastated home world. A ruin, Almania was nothing more than a forest and two crumbled, ruined cities. Over the decades, inhabitants had once more moved to it, for a life of solitude or new adventure. Whatever the case, Almania wasn't useful anymore. Just another world, broken by the Gulag Virus beyond repair, on the fringes of space. A floating rock, just like it's moons.

"My Lord?" Malus came to a stop behind the hooded Sith Lord, clasping his hands behind his back. Without turning, Vazela contemplated what his second hand man wanted and came up with an answer straight away. He wanted answers as to why they had traveled to Almania and a new direction. He knew that Malus was aware that another ship had come and gone from Almania in the day that they had been in orbit of the world. He knew that his master had told him to allow the ship entry to the system, and to allow the shuttle or the ship itself to land, knowing it was a meeting between himself and an unknown assailant. Turning, Vazela nodded his head and replied, "Yes?"
"The ship left several hours ago. Course, my Lord?"
"Bastion."
"Bastion?"
"Yes," said Vazela, turning back to the transparisteel screen, voice barely above a whisper. "Set course for Bastion. Be ready for battle."
"Yes... my Lord."

Malus turned away and headed back to his command seat on the bridge, to issue the orders of Vazela's new direction. The Sith Lord turned away from the Sith Commander to gaze upon Almania for a final time. He hadn't meant to have been so evasive with his answers. But there was a lot on his mind. The plan was coming together. Now it was a matter of...
"Recruitment," he whispered, as Almania disappeared from view. The Obscurity turned towards the dark expanse behind it, moved into position and jumped. Darkness turned to purple light, as the ship disappeared into hyperspace. "Perhaps Bastion will be more revealing than Metalorn?"

 

[Methuzal]

Click.

That wasn't a good sound.

Clickclickclickclick.

Those weren't good sounds either. It appeared TB-19 was out of ammunition. After refocusing his attention on the remnant troops in front of him, TB-19 was not assailed by the Imperial Knight. He had considered it strange, after all, this suppressive fire was essentially the reason the Imperial forces were now advancing as far as they had down this road. An Imperial Knight of all things would jump at such an opportunity to belay the destruction of the rabble he called allies. Now that TB-19 was out of ammo, however, he realized that the Imperial Knight was not hiding. He had been waiting for the tactical droid to to expend all of his ammunition fighting mooks. Now he was going to pay the price.

He saw the Imperial Knight leap from an alleyway, cleaving one T1 in half and decapitating another in short succession as he bounded for the seemingly helpless tactical droid. TB-19 tossed the weapon to the ground, shrugging off the cumbersome power supply lashed to his back and reaching for his sidearm. This was going to be fun.

 

[Djonas Vile]

Tae flollowed the Stormtroopers into a building to begin purging the establishment of all rebels. "Keep up the fire! Slaughter them all! We must make it to Major Hajef!" Tae yelloed out as he tore through the Imperium forces with ease. They were weak without any form of leadership or guidance. The Empire would soon cure this ailment. Tae did his best to find the whereabouts of Major Hajef and his troops. "If anyone on this frequency can inform me of where to find Major Hajef, that'd be greeaat. Thanks!" Tae spoke into his communicator before continuing his onslaught.

 

[Darth Osano]

@[member="Saelia Santori"]

​"Administrator." TB-18 greeted the Sith Knight tersely from his lofty location up in a Tulak-Hord somewhere. "Civilians have been attempting to evacuate this city for some time, but enemy blockades are preventing them from doing so. I am transmitting to you the coordinates of one such roadblock now. You will see it dismantled by any means necessary and oversee civilian exodus by way of that road until further is required of you. Good luck with it."

Funny that. TB-18 had hoped he wouldn't be bothered for this battle, but he had remarkably little luck when it came to these things. Oh, the gross mistreatment he had suffered over the course of his existence. It was almost enough to make a Super Tactical Droid break down into tears. Almost. Then again, Super Tactical Droids did not have the capacity to cry.

 

[Aithne Charr]

Juthan headed along the alleyway, looking up at the AT-AT that stood as a command center. He looked at it from behind his visor and kept his bearing, he looked at the AT-AT and waited in the shadows. He would need a distraction for what he was planning to work, and if it didn't, he would be as good as dead.

 

[Darth Osano]

@[member="Tae Reek"]

TB-18's monotone, mechanical voice crackled through Tae's commlink.

"Apprentice Reek," he greeted with the oh-so-familiar TB-18 charisma. "Major Hajef was last noted as being approximately three blocks West of your current position. Please advance with caution and check your fire. Major Hajef is presently in the process of defending his position from yet another ex-Imperium upstart. Avoid friendly fire. Good luck with it."