Dominion The Red War: Abraxas | CIS

[Ascendant Insight]

The collapse of the Outer Planets Alliance continues to cause lasting effects throughout its former territory. While some worlds had managed to remain stable and protect their people, other worlds had not been so fortunate. It is this fact that spurred the Red War, demanding the Confederacy turn its attention to ensure the stability of those worlds who could not stand alone and where criminality was now the norm and a threat to the Confederacy. Lawlessness so close to the Confederacy would not be ignored.

Abraxas, is one such world and throughout its history it had been exploited and stripped of the wealth that lie beneath the surface, a vast trove of minerals and ores that would be invaluable in any industry, but also over its life it repeatedly found itself playing host to pirates, slavers and all sorts of malcontents. Further complicating the matter would be the thousands of pieces of equipment remaining derelict throughout the system, abandoned mining stations, containers, even satellites and ships remaining drifting through the sector creating a mess of a system that was treacherous at best to navigate.

The Confederacy sent a small task force to secure the system, which immediately came under attack by pirate forces, the CNS Valor and her escorts repelled the initial wave while sustaining damage and fighting off the initial boarding attempts. The CNS Valor is currently conducting repairs and has signaled for assistance to HIGHCOM (High Command). Still damaged and outgunned reinforcements have been signaled from across the confederacy to end the threat before it can spill outside the system.

Spoiler: Objectives

Seek out enemy strongholds on Abraxas itself, the exact locations and number of forces are unknown to Shadowfeed, you will be going in blind. Protect any civilians and liberate the planet.
Solanaceae: Utilize the dark magics of the force to identify & track the threat
CDF/Strill Securities: Infiltrate the enemy strongholds, wipe them out
Knights Obsidian: Find key Pirate and Slaver leaders, assassinate or imprison

The scattered debris field is too dense for larger ships to navigate, smaller vessels are necessary to assist with recovery of debris and protect the capital ships from pirate attacks while seeking out the pirate bases among the debris.
Enclave Members/: Utilize your smaller, personal fighters to maneuver through the debris.
CDF/Strill Securities Forces: mobilize fighters / corvettes to engage the pirates and destroy them and protect the CNS Valor

There is plenty of opportunity for your own story on Abraxas. What can you find within the expanse of the debris field? What hidden secret lies on the planet's surface overlooked for eons? Weave your own tale and more importantly have fun doing so.

Spoiler: TAGS

Alaria Telwith
Alban Roble
Luca Donskoi
Amelia von Sorenn
Anakwor Farlorn
Anashla Deshal
Ar'tal Ktruok
A Arisone
Archon Xris
Ashelia Solidor
Aston Jacobs
Aya Clarke
Bastille Rommer
Beric Layne
Bentil Mortop
Bullwark
@BX-1335
Caesar Kenway
Cazo Thraos
Corvus Dravere
Colton Renth
Corran Watts
Cypher Rage
Damsy Callat
Danielle Mueller
Jayce Pryde
Decious
Dispara
Draconis Sederius Wolf
Easy-G97
Eli-Mae Forrest
Elsasca Selcoc
Eryneth
Fawn Alzi
Faye Malvern
FN-1138
Gerwald Lechner
Holt
Hester Shedo
IG-65A
@Ingrid L'lerim
Jason Farkas
Joannis Campbell
John Locke
Jordar Varcskel
Julra Repraj
Karlie Lynn Destat
Kasca Fen
Kathryn Foster
Kayla Wylen
Kiff Brayde
Krystal
Kurenai Yumi
Kyber
Lady Moll
Lesya Kosarev
Luna Terrik
Lyla Quinn
Lyra Vent
Maani
Maple Harte
Maria Savilia
Mathieu Brion
Maur
Mila Uhlesifa
Millu Lee
Fury of Aerðs
Muad Dib
Myrrdin_Emries
Nimue
Nine Lives
L LGMForever
Pravus Cruento
R4-AUD
Rabbit
Rann Thress
Rayne Centaris
Razelle Breuner
Redd
Roy Americus
Ryk Gaelir
Rylan Kordel
Sabine Delacroix
SC-A1
The Monster
Srina Talon
Startorn
Subject 73 Red
Taiia Locke
Talon Rahl
Talak Jenste
Tess Valnora
Teyla Sal-Soren
ToKola Bakari
@Tyché
Tyran Numeck
Udrid
Uxagi Xatash
Valencia Hadley
Vanric Dannon
Vemric Keldra
Veronika Fleischer
Vess Sadragen
Vio Doni
Visanj T'shkali
Kyyrk
Vyse de Valorous
Vytal Noctura
Valeria Sempronia
Cord Starfall
Telula Vale
Alluria Ivalice
Oleander Webb

 

[Aleksandr Kerensky]

Location: Abraxus System, exiting hyperspace and approximately ten minutes burn from CNS Valor
Vessel: Star Destroyer Hope, full complements of Dragon Fighters and War Hound Drop Ships
Objective: Secure CNS Valor, shield vessel from other incoming threats, hold the line until reinforcements arrive

Hope was already at full battle readiness when she'd received the call from friendly forces. Captain Kerensky and her crew had been running operations outside of CIS space to once again train the vessel and get her back to battle parity. That was until they'd received the wide-band distress call from the CNS Valor. Captain Kerensky had wasted no time in getting all assets back aboard the vessel and jumping to hyperspace, knowing full well it would take time for the CDF fleet to respond. And judging from the nature of the distress call, time was of the essence. He was pace back and forth across the command deck of Hope, listening as various officers and crewmen performed various tasks.

"Sir, exiting hyperspace in ten seconds...... Five, Four, Three, Two, One,"

The ship would enter real space quite abruptly as the Hope brought her hyperdrive offline. Weapons started cycling as gunners brought them online, klaxons blared as she went to combat power.

"Flight I want Red Squadron out first, then Black, and Gold Squadrons. Red Squadron is to make full speed to CNS Valor, I want eyes on the situation. Gunnery, prepare firing solutions on debris field, anything gets too close I want it gone. Echo teams, an entire task force doesn't start squawking distress calls without hitting something big. And I mean really big. I want it found, and I want it dead yesterday. Navigation, bring us to all ahead two thirds, up twelve degrees, rotate ship ninety degrees port side. Everyone else, you know your duties. You know the expectations I have, and the standards our crew have drilled to. Stay calm, trust your training. Now lets rescue us some sailors,"

The Hope would rise its bow as it began a ascent off the vertical plane from CNS Valor. The ship also rolled as it began this ascent, bringing it's right hand broadside to bear on any targets that presented themselves. Which wouldn't take long to present themselves either as explosions were now visible if behind a massive debris field. The senior gunner would call out to his cohorts on his left and right over the small din now occupying the bridge.

"GUNS ONE, TWO, SIX, SEVEN, LOAD HE, PREP RADAR FUSE, ON MY MARK,"

The four guns on the starboard side of the ship would turn out as they cycled in High Explosive rounds to engage enemy fighters and light craft. This show of force was intended for two purposes, one being to clear the immediate area around the Valor and buy them some time to reorg their defenses. The second was to let the enemy know that something much larger and much more dangerous was in system now and was ready for a fight.

"THREE, TWO, ONE, MARK!"

Eight 1600mm barrels would silently roar at once in the vacuum of space hurling their shells at predesignated targets. The massive rounds would cover the distance in speeds that defied explanation, only taking one point five seconds to reach their target points, and detonate with massive explosions. Captain Kerensky would finally call out to the comms officer.

"Comms, I want an open channel to CNS Valor. Let's properly introduce ourselves,"

"Aye sir,"

***************

Below in the hangar, Red Squadron was spooling up, preflight checks already done as the first four fighters were lined up on the catapults. Radio chatter between pilots and the control tower would fill their local comms, each pilot running through tests audibly as they checked thrusters, flaps, weapons, radar, and other systems. Each would sound off as they finished pre-flight status.

"Red 2, go flight,"

"Red 3, go flight,"

"Red 4, go flight,"

"Red 5, go flight,"

"Red 6, go flight,"

"Red 7, go flight,"

"Red 8, go flight,"

"Roger, Tower this is Red Leader, Red Squadron is go flight," the pilot would signal to the ground controller with a thumbs up. The ground controller would turn and signal the catapult crew with a thumbs up, and then turn back and flash a quick salute before taking a crouched position. Exhaust shields would raise as the engines went to mil power and the tower finally replied after finishing their own checks.

"Roger that Red Leader, launching on my mark. 3, 2, 1, mark,"

All four catapults would unlock and hiss as they grabbed the front gear of each of the craft, and flung them out into space at top speeds. The first four from Red Squadron would launch, reaching combat speed by the time they were free of the hangar bay, with the second four locked up seconds later, and having already completed checks, launched the same way. The either F-4 Dragons would do a circle of Hope as they did flight checks, and then would immediately turn towards the CNS Valor, afterburners engaged to reach maximum speeds. Next up in the chute was Black Squadron, Black Leader calling out over comms with his wingmen.

"This is Black Leader, commence pre-flight checks,"

He would be interrupted by a broadcast put through the intercomm, which was the transmission from Hope to the CNS Valor.

"CNS Valor and allied vessels, this is Captain Aleksandr Kerensky of The Dire Wolves. I am addressing you as a friend, and am reporting we are at full combat readiness. We are making our way to you. Hold on comrades, and do not despair. Hope has arrived, and we shall ensure the day is won. If you have any combat data to send our way, make contact on channel Two Seven Five Five Six, and set encryption codes to cipher 'Lightning Wombat'. You are not alone, and we will destroy these vile pirates. May the Force be with you,"

With that finished, Black Leader would wait another second before hearing his second call out through comms.

"Black 2, go flight,"

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

Tags: Xobos Yakieer | Caelyn Malkavian | Donne Toulemonde | Echo Vesulos | Alida Ember
Location: The Whisper [Stealthed]
Pov: Jean de'Luo

​

The Whisper was a beautifully wonderful creation in Jean's opinion. It had everything a stealth ship of its kind could need. A modular weapons system, an advanced hyperdrive, and wonderfully redundant shielding. The Keeper of the Illyrian Palace was finding himself spending a great deal of time outside the Royal Palace these days. It was to be expected of course, his master had decreed that he was to oversee the various assignments that his hopefuls would be tasked with.

Jean released the controls of the ship, allowing the autopilot to take up the mundane task of plotting the course through the thick of the asteroid field. Instead he stood up, softly brushing his gloved hands over his surcoat before turning to the main hold of the ship. Passing out of the cockpit's threshold, he ran his hand over a simple blue button. A chime echoued out through the ship's intercomm device, followed by a low tone, feminine recording.

"Notice. All hands meet in the ship's main hold." The voice called out.

In the main hold, Jean stood silently, awaiting those who he'd chauffeured through space for their assignment. Jean was a well composed man, yet there was a distracted expression that came over him. It soon settled when the group had gathered. In the main room he looked from one face to another before smiling warmly. "Excellent." He walked over to the holotable in the center of the room, activating it with a simple wave of his hand. The scanners picked up the motion and the table came to life with a blue hue.

"His Majesty's agents have located a vital target. This man, Vane." The holotable illuminated the area above with a hologram of an elderly Sith Pureblood. His left eyes was badly scarred and one of his ears seemed severed at it's base. Even his mouth was in a gnarled contortion from some kind of defect or injury. Jean cleared his throat before continuing. "Quite unpleasant, I'm sure. Vane was a member of an ancient Sith Cult that once called the Outer Rim its home. With the formation and growth of The Confederacy it quickly found itself a new home...however some remnants yet remain."

"Our intelligence last places him in small compound amidst the asteroid field near Abraxas. We believe it is the last of their hideouts in this region. His Majesty intended to retrieve this...gentleman himself, however he was summoned back to Naboo for an urgent assembly. So the task falls to you all." He said, not caring to hide a supreme lack of confidence. "I advised his majesty that you all need more time and training...yet he disagrees."

The man's hand tapped the holoterminal once again, causing the image of Vane to subtly fizzle away. "We do not know what lies within Vane's compound and our lack of time did not allow for proper reconnaissance. We do know that our Master has taken special interest in this Pureblood and whatever it is he is in possession of. Recover Vane if you can, but you must take control of any and all information that he possesses." Jean deactivated the terminal before gesturing to a nearby locker. "Your uniforms are within. They are outfitted with anti-grav features and life support systems. We cannot land on the asteroid where his base is located or he may become aware of our presence. So you will have to disembark into space." He said with a rather amused expression. "The jets in the boots will help you to reach the asteroid...however be wary. Use too much fuel before you reach the asteroid and you will be stuck in space."

"...and you will not be retrieved." He said simply. "Mission start is in five minutes. Prepare yourselves." He announced.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Location: Entering Abraxas Atmosphere
Objective: Launch Recon and Assault Dropships to locate Civilian Centers
Tag: Open

Vytal Noctura stood in the hanger bay of the short carrier tasked with dropping in to orbit and descending toward the planet below for rapid insertion. Her green eyes swept over the dropships that were nearly loaded with equipment and personnel. "Our purpose here is clear: protect the innocent, and restore order so they can rebuild stronger than before. Control your battles. Keep the enemy contained within the battlefield, and get civilians out of harm's way as quickly as possible. Pursue and route them from their strongholds. Only then can balance be restored. May the Force and Spirits be with you."

Several in the dropships had been given Conduits and tasked with setting up spiritual networks in every city they entered. There would be Witches divining the locations of the enemy, but the networks would amplify continued monitoring of a region. Any information discovered would be passed on to personnel on the ground. Likewise, those on the ground were tasked with reporting their findings back to the vessels in orbit or in the regional airspace to coordinate efforts planet wide.

It was not her preference that Witches engage in 'policing' the galaxy, but she could not deny that less suffering maintained the galactic balance. It would also afford them access to new knowledge, resources, and ancient archaeological sites. So long as she kept the Solanaceae and other Force researchers safe from being consumed by the pursuit of law and order, the Knights Obsidian would strike their own internal balance that would benefit the Confederacy as a whole.

The Pale Witch turned to regard a Lieutenant that stepped along side. She gave a slight nod as the report of the first few dropships had finished preparations. "Signal they are clear to depart. Have the Medivacs remain on standby to assist in evacuations once civilians are located."

 

[Echo Vesulos]

Tags: The High Court of Illyria | Xobos Yakieer | Caelyn Malkavian | Donne Toulemonde | Alida Ember

Echo never expected to be tasked onto a mission, least of all one that involved others. So when they were called to the main hold, she clasped her hands behind her back, but watched the others as they trailed in. To see another Miraluka was a surprise, seeing as there weren't many in number, but she couldn’t be too surprised as there was always a chance that she would run into another at some point. However, the chances of running into one that channeled the dark side was rare, for many tended to channel the light. Whatever it was, the woman brushed off such a thought as if it was irrelevant, because it was; at least it was to the task at hand as Jean settled in to talk about the mission at hand. The one that had brought them all here today.

Jean’s lack of confidence when he talked, wasn’t exactly something that Echo cared for. If she had wanted his opinion she would have asked, because a challenge was still a challenge. One could never truly know one’s strength until it had been tested in a challenging trial and here they all were about to be tested. Tested in a trial of what appeared to be one based around stealth and knowledge. To navigate space and use whatever basic intel that had been gathered to locate the target. A target that was better to get the drop on, especially considering the man’s history. Quietly, the woman angled her head slightly to the side as she pondered upon it for a moment. It also didn’t appear to be a task where one had to work with others. Capture and recover was simple enough in theory and it suited her just fine, at least for the moment.

Maintaining a sense of quiet, she moved over to the locker in order to open and retrieve the uniform inside. Then she retreated in order to dress herself, all the while her mind churned over the information that had just been provided to them. The biggest hurdle was Vane himself, second to that was the approach itself. Leaving the ship and getting to the asteroid without too much trouble. There was a trick that she could use, but there wasn’t always a guarantee that it would work. The other obstacles would be the other sisters. Being a wildcard, she knew that her level of trust was non-existent and expected the worst from the others. She even imagined that sabotage would be on the table, but for some reason she also suspected that there was more to this task than meets the sight and she listened to the dark forces that whispered about them in their tempting tones.

No, nothing could prepare her for the inception nor for the ongoing hurdles ahead of them. While deep down, the strangled light whispered that it was better to work in a team, Echo ignored the knowledge of a past life. A life that was no longer her own; as she had been reborn in a shower of dirt and darkened forces that remained steadfast in their whispers of temptation. Those whispers brought truth though, not one of them would strive to work as a team, this she was sure of as each one were individuals who sought to satisfy their own whims. Such whims were now to challenge their own skills in the field and this was always an occasion that the lone wolf, the wildcard would rise up to accept. She didn’t need to work as a team and she wasn’t about to waste a single cell of brain power, on the issue of trying to work as a team without having to trust any of them. With that in mind and fully dressed in the uniform provided, she picked up her lightsaber and walked with purpose towards the door that would soon open and deploy the Sisters of Death.

 

[Anashla Deshal]

​

​

Tag: Kiff Brayde | Vemric Keldra | Verin Oldo | Aleksandr Kerensky​

​

Twenty minutes before arrival at Abraxas:

When it had been announced that a small task force would be sent to a backwater like Abraxas no thought of them facing any real danger had entered into the calculus. It should have been a quick sweep and clear in her mind but today that would not be the case. After no less than half an hour since the operation had been set to begin a distress signal made its way up through Naval Command and from there out to any who could be mobilized to respond. As Anashla oversaw the closest armada to the former territory of the Outer Planets Alliance she had scrambled her forces immediately knowing that perhaps she could respond the quickest. She stood on the bridge of the Hell Hound and watched as her forces were arriving en masse near Naalol, the neighboring system to Abraxas. One after another ships slipped out of hyperspace materializing into normal space as she watched in silence.

Glancing over to the closest officer to her, brown eyes fixing on him as she spoke “Send to all ships as they arrive, you are to hold position here and maintain a ready status. I will be transferring my command temporarily to the CNS Durendal . Transfer as many fighters and ground personnel as possible to the Durendal.” Anashla turned on her heel and began walking off the bridge.

Arrival at Abraxas:

Spoiler: Mood Music

The Durendal and her escorts gracefully slipped from hyperspace into the Abraxas system and immediately set their course to rendezvous with the CNS Valor closing the distance quickly. Anashla watched out the viewport as they approached, another vessel was already closing in.

Her brow furrowed slightly as her eyes studied the unknown ship “What ship is that?” the query was not directed at anybody in particular but an answer came all the same.

“The Hope ma’am. Dire Wolves Mercenary Company. They are broadcasting on NAVCOM frequencies, putting it on for you.” her only reply would be a quick nod to the man.

“CNS Valor and allied vessels, this is Captain Aleksandr Kerensky of The Dire Wolves. I am addressing you as a friend, and am reporting we are at full combat readiness. We are making our way to you. Hold on comrades, and do not despair. Hope has arrived, and we shall ensure the day is won. If you have any combat data to send our way, make contact on channel Two Seven Five Five Six, and set encryption codes to cipher 'Lightning Wombat'. You are not alone, and we will destroy these vile pirates. May the Force be with you."

A small smile formed on her lips as she listened to him, a simple motion from her hand and a channel was opened. “Captain Kerensky, this is High Marshal Deshal. Thank you for your rapid response to the situation, we’ll be taking up a defensive screen around the Valor. Please continue to see to her defense as well. We'll leave a line open for you should you need to get our attention.” She gave a nod indicating she was done. “Get me the Valor.”

A brief pause and the captain of the Valor came on the holo. “Captain, report your situation.” The man had obvious signs of fatigue as he appeared on the holo and as they closed in the battle damage became readily apparent. “Ma’am” he gave a quick salute “At present hyperdrive is still offline, we have a couple of hull breaches but nothing that will compromise the ship at the moment. We did lose one of our escorts however.” true to his word there was a debris field on their sensors near the Valor. “Understood Captain, for now I am placing you under my command until you can escape the system. We will be sending techs and medical to you." after the channel closed with the Valor she took a breath. "Launch two squadrons of fighters I want them on a wide patrol around the Valor, if there is so much as an odd sensor echo wipe it from existence.” as soon as the Durendal was close enough shuttles began to launch ferrying repair teams, security forces and medical teams to the Valor.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

• Flagship:
  • CNS Durendal
    
• 117th Heavy Attack Line:
  • 1x Grievous-class Star Destroyers
    • CNS Durendal
  • 2x Argente-class Assault Cruisers
  • 4x Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
  • 3x Murkhana-Class Escort Frigate

Spoiler: Fleet Movement

All ships moving to setup a defensive perimeter around CNS Valor
two fighter squadrons flying CAP for the task force

 

[G 3 M 1 N 1]

TAG: Aleksandr Kerensky Anashla Deshal ​

Rig: F-22 Star Raptor x2
- 3 Concussion Missiles, 4 M2 Heavy guns (2 on pilons), 1 backup light rapid fire Ion laser cannon
Location: Asteroid Field
Allies: Ji-Ji
Objective: Scout / Engage

Gem wasn't good at a great many things when it came to her new body, often in combat she felt out-done by the creature-like AI who lay at the heart of her persona, but this, this is where she shone! Something about keeping tabs with hundreds of orders per minute within the cacophonous mind-space of the G3M1N1 body had trained her reaction times more than any tactical training ever could. Even unassisted with the boosters, she operated at a preternatural level thinking and acting tactically at a speed some would consider only possible via muscle memory. The wheel of a star ship was something magical to her, she felt powerful here, the elation of flight stretching a smile of concordant moons across her face. Setting the AI assist within the ship as well as herself to minimal assist she was free to act as she willed, their nominally blaring persistant voices set to only erupt up in the case of dire emergencies. ​

Gemini had been here for some time, having arrived parallel with the Valor with the task of attempting to hunt down the myriad Pirates within the debris. Gemini, unlike them had a personal stake in this fight, she'd diligintly tracked the Crymorah syndicate who had captured her, tortured her as well as her friends on Naboo, imprisoning them for days to somewhere within this asteroid field via their ion trails. Sadly to Gem and her allies' disappointment the metallic ores within the asteroids here muddled their normally accurate radars, making their mission one that had to be played by eyes and ears alone. Her friend Ji-Ji alongside her was a comfort, riding tandem in a ship with mirrored payload as the two of them would twist and cycle around one another in a dance like helix pattern, weaving in and out of asteroid clusters as they would approach with the highly mobile F-22 star raptors.​

Ji-Ji after the torture under the hands of Crymorah, thankfully, had been enhanced in much the same specifics G3M1N1 had, though with far less replaced Two arms, parts of their head, several organs and even some bone structure across their slender body had been replaced with high tech cybernetics in order to repair some of the damage that had been done. Ji-Ji needed revenge flavored closure, their attempt at creating a mercenary team had died when they had been captured by Crymorah, and as the two of them had been closing in on the pirate's scents for the last few cycles, taking jobs with whatever faction which would lead them to their doorstep, it was time to get even. The F-22's were a fantastic vessel, faster than anything aught to have the right to be, but they were fragile. Glass cannons moving through space at a lightning pace as their maneuverability allowed them to turn on a dime at the detriment of the pilot. Thankfully, G3M was almost totally cybernetic, while Ji-Ji's enhancements were able to deal with the G-Forces better than most, he could still only bleed about 80-85% performance out of the ship, which, was more than enough in theory.​

This section of the asteroid field had been barren of life so far, devoid of life or movement as short range scanners undaunted by the asteroid minerals picking up little more than the void themselves for the most part as the two friends held silent within their respective pilot seats. Intense focus lasering in on their mechanical rigs for the moment that something would inevitably appear. It was likely that there was little out here in this sector of the field, but when the ship they came in on let out the call that they were under attack, the two of them decided it was time to double back, all forces needing to return to their ride home. They'd be able to hit the retreating craft from behind!​

"This is Violet one and two, turning back for anti fighter support, we'll hit them from behind and play interception on possible reinforcements." Gemini would call out as she would cut thrust, microrepulsars on her ship banking it upward to thrust it into a 180 turn before she would slam the stabilizers let free the thrusters again which would roar in her ears louder than the children of Krayt. The Co-ordinated move of the two fighters looking like an ephemeral dance as they would begin to rocket through the debris, firing on smaller rocks as they would track their way through. Gem carving the path for Ji-Ji as she would take the lead dipping and diving until within a few minutes the scanners would pick up signs of life and heat moving through the debris. Easily a half-dozen additional fighters moving slightly off parallel to them through the debris Field.​

The two of them, exchanging little other than a simple affirmation, marking enemy fighters 1 through 6 would would bank to engage, blasters primed cutting towards the enemy as astral sharks wihtin the infinite archipelago of the asteroid field. The repulsars of the craft causing them to dip, dive lift and bank as they would weave expertly through the field at speeds that few other fighter craft would dare to. So much so, that as the two of them parted into combat formation and opened with a volley of blasterfire to intercept the column of fighter craft, one of them would explode as a missile was struck tearing the fighter apart in moments while the other would have a stabilizer hit causing the ship to bank into one of the many asteroids. The two F-22 craft would rocket through the aftermath of the debris as the half dozen combined ships would be ready for the fight to come. Right as Hope arrived on the battlefield.​

Gem would patch into two seven five five six, encrypting with the cypher as requested and would relay in some detail. "Violet leader and V-2 are engaging reinforcements in the field, twenty clicks from Valor. Watch your threes, sixes and nines we have engaged hostiles en route to your positions. There may be others, seems like we've poked the hive."​

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Abraxas
Equipment: Illyria Knight Armor, Knight Saberstaff, Miralukan Eye Mask
Mental state: Breathing.
Tags: | Caelyn Malkavian | Donne Toulemonde | Echo Vesulos | Alida Ember | The High Court of Illyria |

Xobos enjoyed space.

There was a sense of calmness found in space that Xobos couldn’t reach into in practically any place, much less her own mind. To be surrounded by space, the only sounds coming from the ship’s stealth generators, brought the slightest of smiles to her face. These were the moments to be savored, before the missions or blasters kicked off. A moment of serenity, calm, and nothing but her own voice.

And, well, Amboragos, who might’ve never taken this moment to ruin her meditative state while still split, instead remained silent. At least until the soft, feminine voice of the intercom emanated through the viewing room Xobos had been using. “Suppose it’s time for us to get to work, hm?” One final, deep breath slid from the sith before she slowly slid to her feet, smoothing out her robes as she did so. “I suppose it is.”

The journey to the meeting room was a swift one, and as she arrived her gaze moved, lingering on each of the sisters for just a moment. It had been a long time, longer than she could practically remember, since there was a gathering of prodigies and apprentice’s of the king. Brothers and sisters long past gathered to be his will. She missed some of them, dearly, while others..well, there was a reason why most of them had left, even before the king had taken his leave of absence. Perhaps this new gathering, the so called, sisters of death, could live up to what he had envisioned from the very start.

Jean was something very different than quite literally anything that she had experienced during her time as the King’s knight. Of course, there had been servants and helpers, but there was something about this butler…this handler, that struck her in an interested way. She might not have otherwise reacted to a servant being so blunt with his opinions, but there was something refreshing about being around him. Hopefully that feeling would extend past the honeymoon that would more than likely come to end.

Their mission, however, was something that demanded her full attention. Why her master would want an old cultist, despite him being of pure sith blood, escaped her in this very moment. Not only that, but he had wanted to complete this mission himself, if Jean was to be believed. The jury was still out on such a thing, but the gravity of the mission was not lost on Xobos in that moment.

As the meeting came to a close, her gaze once again moved to look over to the sisters she had been assigned to work with. None of them had stood beside her to this point, and because of that, she truly had no idea if she could trust their abilities. Of course, their master wouldn’t put them in this situation if he didn’t believe they could succeed. Xobos, on the other hand, was not so sure. She was confident in her own abilities, but those of the others..

Well, their little spacewalk would be the first step to finding such things out.

 

[Hisashi]

ABRAXAS
A Den of Piracy

This was a bad idea.

Ever committed to the dream of Naboo, Hisashi found himself aboard the CNS Valor. His goal? To continue overseeing the protection of the monarch, Saraya Arenais . Today, they found themselves far from the cradle of Theed. Today, they had found themselves under fire. Initially, the plan was simple. Accompany the latest venture into former OPA space in order to secure a locale for the next humanitarian station. However, whilst en route to the planet Abraxas, the Confederate formation was assaulted by pirate forces.

Despite being outnumbered, the warship was able to repel the assault. Yet, it became very clear that the mission to Abraxas was quickly turning hostile. Missives to nearby allies and back home had been sent, and aide was certainly on its way - but the clock was ticking. Needless to say, Hisashi's teeth were grinding together. There was a large part of him - that wolf which had been cultivated by a lifetime of battle - which wanted to go planetside and join in the culling of the pirates. A switch bite of revenge for daring to raise a hand against them. Against Mila.

But he had sworn to personally protect her. No matter how much he wanted to fight, his blade was meant to defend. Thus, within the safety of her quarters, the Queensguard paced the floor. Hands clutched behind his back, brow furrowed, the man moved with thoughts racing. "Ultimately, it's your call." he said, breaking the silence that had lingered for a few moments. "As of now, my recommendation stands. Until support arrives, it's far too dangerous for you to stay in this system. We should take a vessel back to Confederate Space right away."

The thought of retreat was as venom on his tongue. He hated the very idea of it...but such was his oath. To protect. To defend Saraya Arenais .​

 

[Verin Oldo]

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Anashla Deshal
Aleksandr Kerensky
Kiff Brayde
G 3 M 1 N 1


It wasn't every day that Oldo entertained the Marshal on board his flagship. They had seen enough action together in their time together to have come to a mutual understanding. Oldo, the older and senior of age and, most likely, life experience. Brayde, the impetuous yet brilliant mind who had seen them safely through some of the darkest and most ferocious of engagements.

Talay.

He shook his head, walking towards the High Marshal with a datapad in his hand.

"We are approaching our target system now, Sir."

A little overkill, perhaps, but it had been Brayde's idea. A routine inspection after the chaos above Dantooine had found them redeployed to help in the rescue of the CNS Valor. The 513th Heavy Attack Line enjoyed some fame within the Bassadro Sector, the first to sustain damage at the hands of the NIO threat in that challenging and difficult engagement. A proud honour to add to their battle scars.

Scars indeed.

They had left two of their ships, stuck in the expanse, as munitions and energy blasts had pulverised the combined fleets found in orbit above the planet. One had been utterly destroyed. The other...there had been no saving them.

He looked a little vacantly for a moment, again shaking himself to come to the "here and now". The CNS Al'raja was a far too big for this task, let alone the complement of Star Destroyers, cruisers and frigates that come along. However, their fighter complements would be useful in weeding out any enemy combatants in the area. They had come in a little further away from the pinged allied forces and would make their way as safely as possible, the large ships staying put.

The Victator-class Battlecruiser was now the dominant ship on the board, though completely useless in engaging in such difficult circumstances. However, its presence, alongside the Star Destroyers, would ward off anything more volatile than a Cruiser.

They exited hyperspace, the momentary temporal jolt reassuring them that they hadn't emerged into a star or orbiting planet. Oldo took note of the comms traffic.

"Sir, we have several CIS elements already in attendance. The Durendal of the 117th. High Marshal Deshal. There is also a Dire Wolves presence, sir. Your thoughts?"

Spoiler: Fleet Makeup

1x Victator-class Battlecruiser

CNS Al'raja-MKIII Fighter-8 Squadrons (24 craft per) Colla Tri-3 Squadrons (12 craft per)

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4 x Grievous-class Star Destroyers

CNS Exigent- MKIII-3 Squadrons

CNS Carrhae White-MKIII-3 Squadrons

CNS Tyraxes-MKIII-3 Squadrons

CNS Felwinter-MKIII-3 Squadrons

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2 x Argente-class Assault Cruisers

CNS Last Disciple-MKIII-2 Squadrons

CNS Shadowrun-MKIII-2 Squadrons

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4 x Murkhana-class Escort Frigates

CNS Aspis-MKIII-1 Squadron

CNS Cannae-MKIII-1 Squadron

CNS Utica-MKIII-1 Squadron

CNS Capua-MKIII-1 Squadron

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4 x Terrus-class Flak Frigates


CNS Pedestal

CNS Aevala

CNS Sundark

CNS Alisandor

Spoiler: Action Summary

Arrive in system and take stock of allied composition.

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[Laertia Io]

OOC: Am posting in this thread with this account with the permission of Eternal Insight


Wearing: Hoodlum's Leathers

Armed with: De Lifte Crystal (Dual Vent)

Objective: Acquire The Sword of Surt'r


Currently aboard: Castle Morpheus


Making friends with: Nine Lives


This castle was strange.

It was Laertia's first night aboard it, days after the horrors of Dantooine.

She had turned her back on everything to fight the more important enemy. She had dragged her family into it. Moya Virtu , her Android Caretaker, and 'Mother' had refused to abandon her, though her sisters had very hesitantly complied with her request that they publicly disavow her actions before leaving, so at least they could still do good for the Silvers even if she couldn't any longer. Not after what she had pulled.

The SJC were fools to fight Sith and Bryn'adul at the same time. She could never have supported that. Not after Nar Kreeta.

Defection had been inevitable. Laertia wasn't certain what she was now. She had membership in House Li-Ves. Nine was a member of the Knights Obsidian--and her only true living Blood Relative...it was pretty much a given that Nine had to take her in.

The Absolution of Loste flew in tandem with The Morpheus, now fully repaired. But Laertia had spent the night aboard the Morpheus as a courtesy.

Laertia lay awake in bed, the black and green De Lifte Crystal, which killed most of the pain she felt from her migraines which resulted from her brain damage set on a ring around her finger currently. The Atrisian Gothic architecture was prevalent in the Oni faces at the corners of the suite and the archways.

It turns out it was the will of the Force...Syd and Nine had met before...they recognized each other and were equally surprised at running into each other again.

As this was the permanent room she had been assigned she had made sure they installed a work bench and a Bacta Tank next to the shower.

She didn't know what to do. She was playing it by ear. She could not sleep.

She hadn't talked or met with Syd in a week. She felt her through their Force Bond, minds touching, mental fingers entwined, thoughts kissing each other occasionally. But Laertia had dampened their bond for the most part, not wanting her own distress and heartache at turning her back on the Order to infect a Syd already distressed by her Padawan, Starlin Rand losing a hand at Dantooine to some Jedi.

She had done her best with the prosthetic. To make it resemble living flesh. The skeleton was cortosis weave durasteel with increased (Read: Deadly) grip strength and three retractable razor sharp claws between the knuckle, which sprouted from hidden seams between the knuckles "tissue" cover. It was meant to be upgraded, so she had left him as much wiggle room on the prosthetic as she could.

Nine Lives had asked her to come to Abraxas with her. They were investigating a disturbance near the equator that was causing time measuring instruments on ships over the area to get skewed readings. Laertia had tried to get rest beforehand but it had proven impossible.

She was too stressed.

After a cold shower, Laertia had put on her biker gear, removed her ring and placed the crystal in a newly constructed dual vented hilt of obsidian durasteel and activated it. The black blade with a dark green Aura shot out, joined by energy quillions on the side vents of the same color.

She swung it experimentally, before she was satisfied with it. She shut it off, just as she felt the presence of Nine.

Laertia discovered they had a lot in common. An appreciation for advanced technology, a love of sword play. (Laertia's poison was Lightsabers, Nine's poison was Katanas.) and considered Androids as actual relatives.

They also shared a not so hidden love of battle. Of ripping. Of tearing until it was done. And of swordfighting films. The bloodier the better.

Nine entered her quarters after Laertia willed the door open.

"Hello, Laertia..." Nine greeted amicably, her voice a contralto. She was an olive skinned beauty with black hair, feminine even as she had an unmistakable animalistic stare in her black pools for eyes, two glowing dots of purple at their center, her muscled body was hidden by a dark green hooded kimono with white roseprint embroidery. Her dragon hilted Katana rested at her side comfortably.

"Hello, Lady No." Laertia had trouble telling where Nine stood in the Force: Her aura was a muddied gray. Not that it mattered at this point.

"Oh please, no need for such formalities..." Nine assured her. "You're a member of my House. You're of the bloodline, even. Talk freely."

"Very well Nine..." Laertia said respectfully as they both left her quarters going down the ancient vessel's corridors to reach the tram to the hangar.

"Nine, I hope you know I can't join the Knights Obsidian. I joined the Confederacy to try and pool together as many resources as I can, unhindered by The Order's silly dictates, but that does not mean I can be a member of a group that answers directly to Darth Metus ."

"And I hope you understand that given the extremely delicate tightrope I walk, being so closely allied to Castagne, I cannot officially support you in your efforts. At least not until I find some diplomatic way of convincing Tarssin Destat that given the massive threat the Bryn'adul pose, we must do...difficult things. Make difficult compromises."

"As long as we both understand The Bryn'adul must be stopped at all costs."

"On 'that' we are agreed..." Nine said as they stepped into a tram.

As the tram ride continued, Nine watched the grim faced, tombstone skinned exile that looked like a street criminal.

"Do you always dress like someone who holds people up for money?"

"I dressed smart, people wouldn't underestimate me." Laertia replied. "Its camouflage...that's all it ever was. Just camouflage."

Laertia watched bird like movements of Nine, slight and flitting.

"No one is going to underestimate you after Dantooine..." she warned.

"This is true..." Laertia replied. "But I'll adapt...I always adapt. So what's this 'disturbance' on Abraxas?"

"A suspected Force Anomaly causing severe disruptions in the chronological instrumentation aboard starships flying over a certain area. Its near a mine. Abandoned. We think some band of stupid pirates fethed up and dug up some sorta bullchit that should have stayed buried."

"Typical weekday, in other words?" Laertia asked.

"Yeah."

Fifteen minutes later...

The Shadow Bride flew through the Atmosphere of Abraxas, the single deadliest weapon in Laertia's arsenal. It would be needed in case whatever was at this abandoned mine needed to be destroyed, a modern and miniaturized update of the Fury Class Interceptor, it was built for two things, survival and pure destruction. If Laertia had been born as a starship, she would have resembled a ship much like the Shadow Bride, bristling with weapons and heavy armor, daring other ships to take it on.

As soon as they approached the vast abandoned complex surrounded by mysteriously scorched canyons, their time keeping instruments went haywire.

Nine was still in her Kimono, and a single Lightsaber Laertia sensed great strength and power in, like her own blades rested on a belt next to her Katana.

"What shall you do, Laertia, after the Bryn'adul are defeated?" Nine wondered.

"I don't know..." Laertia answered. "I'll probably be hunted by Jedi for the rest of my life for what I pulled at Dantooine..."

"Most Jedi, with few exceptions are self absorbed, over proud fools who always believe they are right, even if it gets people killed. Even I was tired of them by the time I had to save Atrisia twice..." Nine admitted bitterly.

"Twice?" Laertia asked in curiosity.

"Ancient History. Before your time."

"They took issue with how you wanted to save it."

"You learn quickly, young one."

Nine than did an overblown imitation of a Jedi.

"Oh, if we approach everything with hugs and meditation and understanding, oh, I'm SURE the Light will totally triumph..." the taller woman remarked, her sarcastic words a lance of truth in an embittered Laertia's heart.

"You heard chit like that too, huh?" Laertia asked.

"I heard chit like that and worse. The more detached from reality it was, the harder they clung to it if it helped them perceive themselves as proper Jedi." Nine scoffed. "They're nice people until they decide they are right. THEN the conversation outright ends, no matter how many words get exchanged after. The discussion truly ends the moment they decide listening to you would knock them from their moral high horse."

Laertia may have been a burgeoning strategist but that didn't mean Nine wasn't adept at pushing buttons emotionally when she found them. In this case, it was easy...Laertia's entire world had upended itself in what was already a pretty nightmarish identity crisis. She was alone, hurting after turning her back on The Order to do the smart thing and fight the Bryn'adul, unhindered by Jedi dictates and conduct about who to partner with in the process. She didn't care about the Sith, ultimately. She knew they'd always be around. The Bryn'adul had to be dealt with NOW.

Nine had found the smouldering little ember of resentment against the Jedi, slowly building ever since, for refusing to see the obvious: A two front war would cost them too much. One enemy had to be dealt with first, one that presented the more immediate threat due to their tendency to kill everyone and everything. THEN you focus on the Sith, even if it means they recovered in the interim.

Every hand needed to join to stop them. The more they fought one another, the more the Bryn'adul win ultimately. She needed ruthless, dishonorable people and tactics to survive them.

Nine, even though it was possible to outmaneuver her strategically, had a talent for stoking bitterness...

Laertia, for her end, was definitely listening, even though she knew Nine was trying to break down her commitment to what Jedi tenents she still held to in order to help make her life in the Confederacy smoother.

"I truly am sorry they refused to listen to you, Laertia..."

"So am I..." Laertia replied quietly. "Because now I really AM going to have to kill them in earnest if they try and stop me."

Nine smiled.

The Bride set down on the outskirts of the mining facility. None of the instruments for keeping time worked. There were dead pirate bodies everywhere leading to a Mining tunnel.

"Oh, they left rose petals on the floor for us! How romantic!" Nine joked about the corpses.

"Heh..." Laertia chuckled. Nine had a fethed sense of humor but Laertia liked it for some reason.

Laertia took point, heading to the mining tunnel that had the most bodies.

"What do you think killed them?" Laertia asked.

"Something terrifying and badass probably..." Nine surmised. "That's how it usually goes. You don't know whether to scream in horror or enjoy how Mandalorian Death Metal it is, whatever is killing you."

Laertia reached the entrance first, black blade snapping to life, the dark green aura it was shrouded in illuminating a tunnel full of bodies.

Laertia stiffened as she felt a strange fragment of energy call to her...

"There is something in here..." she whispered...stepping over corpses with Nine until they came across a small off beat branch in the tunnel where the corpses stopped. Much digging had been focused here. Laertia went down it, feeling the power grow stronger the closer she got to it. The small, cramped tunnel exited into a large, spherical chamber with strange, untranslateble eldritch writing with what seemed to be stranger math formulas were written on the walls, glowing with an odd teal flame to them...Laertia felt a light presence in the object at the center of the chamber, hovering over a ring of teal flame.

She blinked in surprise. It was a dual vented Lightsaber with a longer hilt, like a claymore.

"Oooo, a Relic! Probably cursed!" Nine remarked jovially. Then, she blinked also.

"Hey...these symbols...I recognize these! They were on a sword that belonged to a mentor. Your girlfriend called them some sort of "Magical, Time Affecting Formula"

"Its calling to me..." Laertia muttered, hand reaching out before Nine could stop her.

"Laertia, wait, NO!" Nine yelled, wheeling around too late.

Laertia grasped the blade...

Everything around her went white and she suddenly wasn't in the the strange relic chamber. Nor was the sword she had grabbed in her hand.

Laertia looked around. This wasn't Abraxas. She looked like she was on some sort of apartment roof on Coruscant at night, its city light soft and filling night air with golden light., its building bathed in that soft light also everywhere around her.

She stood on atop a series of the same type of runes in the chamber she had just been, laid on the rooftop in a concentric circle.

Laertia felt a night breeze through her hair. She was freaked the hell out.

What was going on?

"Hello there."

Laertia wheeled around, black blade activating...and stepped back in surprise at who was standing behind her.

It was Syd. Or, someone who looked like her, but with short, blood colored hair that was messy and stopped at the ears. Looked slightly younger than the Syd she interacted with.

That was not the most disturbing thing...

(T'sid Surt'r's Theme Plays)

(Theme: "Moonraker" by Shirley Bassey)

The woman who looked like Syd took a few steps forward, wearing spiked biker leathers too similar to Laertia's for The Black Knight to dismiss as coincidence, save for their crimson color and the spikes being golden. Laertia held up her black blade, pointing it in fear, only for the other woman to activate a teal blade that had teal flames dancing along it, slowly pushing Laertia's blade aside with hers. She circled Laertia once. Laertia was scrambling for ideas, explanations. Something. Anything that would explain this.

Orange, cat like eyes stared into Laertia's dark gray ones.

"Who are you?" Laertia whispered.

"The name is Surt'r. T'sid Surt'r." T'sid answered.

(Clip of Bond Theme Plays)

Laertia flinched as T'sid, wearing the face of her lover, even feeling like her lover to a degree but not quite, reached out to touch a beautiful but scarred face.

"I've waited so long to finally meet you, Julia..." T'sid whispered, kissing the stunned Exile.

"How do you know that name?" Laertia whispered back. She had not even told Syd.

Surt'r only smiled back.

"I have felt you for years. Heard you in my sleep, my Love." Surt'r answered, holding out her hand. "And now that I finally see you...you are more beautiful than I ever imagined...and yet..."

Surt'r drew close. Laertia did nothing as her face was touched, Surt'r's fingers tracing over her scars.

"Such terrible pain I sense within you..." Surt'r said with seeming sincerity. "Oh, Julia...I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you...can you ever forgive me?"

"For...for what?" Laertia asked, confused. "I don't know who you are...or why I am here..."

T'sid smiled. "Let's talk..."

T'sid used the Force to float away from the circle, a confused Laertia following her...

 

[Saraya Arenais]

B Y O O​

Tag: Hisashi

Mila sat on the very edge of the plush silk sofa in her quarters. If she focused hard enough, she could almost feel the movements of the ship as it cut through the inky blackness of space. A sensation that had always rendered her ill, if she allowed the focus to continue, but she could not afford to be ill now.

Hisashi’s heavy footsteps dominated the room. Clicking against the polished metal floor, speaking in deafening volumes of his deeply rooted desperation to be part of the fight. When he spoke, it was even more clear what his thoughts were. They were announced so obviously it was hard to ignore them, but Mila had no immediate response. Her reaction to situations like this had always been measured. Equal parts monarch and citizen. Equal parts protector and protected. After an age of silence with nothing but the tick, tick, tick of Hisashi’s heels to keep them company, Mila stood. “Hisashi.” She spoke firmly. “For the love of Naboo, stop pacing. You’ll wear a hole into the floor if you’re not careful.”

She made her way around the table that had been set in front of her sofa and piled high with the usual office work. As she moved, the edge of her dress caught the corner of a pile, which sent it toppling from the table to the floor. A cascade of clean white paper marked with dark black ink. Mila ignored it.

“I will not run.” She spoke plainly this time, though a little less firmly than before. She had never been an aggressive woman, in any sense of the word. Of course, she could be a leader when it was required, but it was never required with Hisashi. More often than not, they found themselves agreeing with each other. It was the times when they did not that Mila found her confidence faltering. “I will not turn tail and hide while everyone else is tormented by these pirates.” Her nimble feet danced an erratic pattern around the fallen papers, carrying her swiftly to a stop in front of Hisashi. Her expression rang of determination as she continued. “And I will not allow you to run either.”

With a speed that was unknown to her, she reached out at clasped Hisashi’s hand in her own. “We are measured by our responses to disaster. We are judged by our ability to cope under pressure. How will it look if we slink back to safety while everyone else fights? How will it look if we crumble under the pressure of a handful of scum, simply because I happen to be here?” a tender smile formed on her face as her hands curled around his. It was twice the size of her own, and the tips of her fingers could barely meet around his, but she did it all the same.

Hisashi would not like what she was saying. He would not want to leave, despite the clawing desire to join in the battle, but just as Mila needed him to protect her, she needed him to fight for her too. To fight for Naboo and its people. To defend and represent their honour on the field of battle when their Queen could not. “You must take what you require and do what is necessary. By protecting this ship and the people it represents, you protect me too.”​

 

[Tireya Syvare]

Location: Entering Abraxas Atmosphere
Objective: Follow the Nightmother’s Lead
Tag: Vytal Noctura | Open​

“So this is where you want to be, is it, child?” The voice was cold and serpentine, sending a painful shill coursing down Tireya’s spine. It was Valyra’s voice that resonated within her subconscious thoughts. She could not deny it was because of Valyra, that she had ever survived this long, even with as much as she hated that spirit’s presence. Her ominous voice and the it treated her as though it were her mother, always unsatisfied and always disappointed. Nothing Tireya could ever do was enough. “A pawn at the behest of this proclaimed Nightmother? If she can even call herself that.”

Tireya grimaced and gritted her teeth a moment as Valyra pulled her mental strings triggering fleeting and inconsequential juts of anger and frustration. “Likely just another pompous and ambitious delver of my plane. Likely thinks that she’s some kind of enlightened or chosen messiah to lead everyone down the path to divinity she believes she’s discovered.” She paused, her words staging like daggers into Tireya’s mind. “Arrogant fool. The whole lot of them. You’d do well to remember that no one cares more of you than yourself. No act is selfless and has it root in a personal interest whether they deny it in themselves or not. Even you, my child.”

“Shut,” Tireya began, speaking the words orally and not simply thinking them in her own mind, “up!”

Her words drew eyes from those around her as she hadn’t even attempted to keep them to a hushed tone.

“Ah, there it is,” Valyra said. “The brashness of the child. So easily drawn to anger.”

“I said,” Tireya retorted, “shut up!”

Tireya’s hand fell down and grasped the pommel of the sword sheathed along her right hip. An eerie blue glow emanated from the top of the leatheris sheath. Her other hand balled into a fist on her knee.

“Careful, child. It would be wise for you not to turn these so-called allies into your enemies. I don’t know if you could handle being so isolated now that you’re away from that decrepit world you called home.”

 

[OOM-314-PIE]

Root Out Whoever Just Ruined PIE's Polish!​

Tag: OPEN

Life unfolded around the droid as its processors spun up and its software took hold of its newly polished chassis. It may have seemed like just any ordinary B1 Battledroid chassis, but because this one belonged to the droid with the designation OOM-314-PIE, it was simply better than any other. At least that was the coding that ran through the droid’s central processing unit.

“PIE looks good,” came the voice of the droid as he turned to face a spare chassis from his row of replacements. “PIE is best. All the other droids wish they were PIE.” He crossed his arms in front of himself and leaned himself against some durasteel framing. His feet crossed too as he sat back and admired himself completely neglecting the reason he was spun up in the first place. But no one could tell that to PIE as it seemed part of his personality matrix either glitched or bugged to make him believe he was simply better than all the rest. That giving him the belief that he was in love with a fellow B1 unit as if he could ever truly understand what love was.

It wasn’t long, though, before an alarm sound within the dropship hangar from which he had just powered on. The alarm was quickly followed by a vocal announcement, but that in itself was cut short as the footing beneath him trembled violently. “Wooaahhah,” PIE’s vocabulator rang out as the droid began to lose its feeting forcing him to fall to the ground in a metallic crash. Around him various other unactivated chassis crash down from their respective racks, though none drew the amount of greef from the droid as the ones directly in front of him. His own. “PIE does not like this! PIE demands to speak to supervisor! PIE finds this completely unacceptable!” PIE’s voice echoed around the chamber but fell on deaf audio receptors as he was the only droid currently activated. It seemed none of the rest of the unit had been called to action.

The audible message that had accompanied the alarm had finished by the time that PIE had collected himself and rose once again to his feet.

BOOM!!

The dropship shook violently again as tremors shook the ground beneath it. More audible tones rang out in distress from the hangar compartment. PIE turned to find the exit and saw that the ramp was already fully descended opening his video receptors to the world beyond. He stepped forward and ran diagnostics with the sensor system he was linked to trying to pry out any pertinent information. It would only take a few seconds for PIE to reach the end of the ramp, neglecting his rifle inside which had become all too common of an occurrence.

BOOM!!

The ground in front of PIE seemed to erupt with a blinding flash spraying mud and dirt everywhere. And particularly all over PIE’s freshly polished chassis. If the droid could narrow his brows and leer, it would be the most ferocious thing anyone has ever seen, but alas, PIE was without the ability to manipulate such features. So instead, PIE simply balled the three digits of his hands in the closest semblance of a fist. “PIE is angry now. You ruined PIE’s perfect chassis. PIE will make you pay!” He shouted and shook his fist in the air.

The ground erupted next to him again as another bomb struck his dropzone location. He didn’t know what exactly was going on here, but whatever it was, he wasn’t satisfied with it.

Moments later he darted off ahead of himself in search of whatever had ruined his perfection!

 

[Cali Ziiva]

Location: The G.C.S. Couverture, Bridge
Coordinates: Abraxas System, Outside of the Debris Field
Objective: Investigate a Mystery

The Couverture dropped out of hyperspace short of either the planet or the debris field. There were all sorts of ships buzzing over both like flies. Not to mention the pirates. Of course Cali figured there'd be some cool stuff in there -- like everyone else -- but that wasn't why they were there. Actually, they weren't there for the Confederacy's interests at all; just happened they lined up perfectly with her own.

"Cutey Pi," the pink Zeltron pushed back from the rail she'd been leaning against while peering out the forward viewport, "any readings yet?"

The unusually painted vessel was better known to host some incredibly large and vanish parties as part of Party Favors LLC, but it was also used for the company's other pursuits as well. Like investigating and acquiring new resources -- whether those were materials, information, or people. Plenty of people needed help in the galaxy, and Cali liked helping out whenever she could do more good than harm. Like today's effort; Cali couldn't drive the pirates away by herself, but with the Confederacy there she could explore an unusual reading a probe had picked up before it went silent.

An anthropomorphic cat-like droid turned its bright, pink eyes toward the Zeltron. "There is a disturbance roughly forty million klicks from our position." QT-314 was Cali Ziiva's personal Chief of Staff, which essentially meant she took care of organizing a great deal to leave the pink organic creature to her inventing, fixing, and 'schmoozing.'

Cali's bright eyes shone at the news. "Launch a probe! Let's see if it's what we're here for, Cutey." Of course her QT had probably already made those arrangements, but that didn't stop the Zeltron from making the announcement.

"Probe launched."

A face-splitting grin had pearly white teeth on full display as Cali went back to leaning over the rail. Her eyes were pointed in the direction the probe had gone even long after it left visual range. If it'd ever been visual to an organic's eye in the first place.

"Curious," QT added after a minute, "the probe's sensors are not registering any information regarding the phenomena. However, it is not exhibiting any detectable influence on space-time in the surrounding area." Which seemed to rule out a very small singularity. "The size of the phenomena is roughly..."

A few seconds passed and the pink one blinked as nothing further was said. Cali pushed back and turned to look back at QT with wide eyes.

"The probe has ceased transmitting, Miss Ziiva."

 

[Luna Terrik]

B R E A K

Location: Abraxas, The Lionhearted
Time: 1500 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, BAW-89 Carbine Rifle, Tactical Recon Handgun (2), G-20 Glop Grenade (3), Thermal Detonator (2)
Objective: (1) Establish control of the upper base (2) Get to the underwater elevators (3) Fight through, take control of the underwater storage areas.
Tags: | Tiria Reinhart | Tien Ulinesque | Subject 73 Red | Tyran Numeck | CT-308 Maverick | Jasmille Kavos | Jie Tarell | Tegan Farron | Subject 82 Snow | Udrid | Eva Winburn | Titus Dorn | Frank Sterling | Eldin Rake | Asta Nikola | Blair Vauss | Dreyn | Obediah Sharp | Rook Heimdal | Mitra Fay |

Spoiler

It just went on, and on, and on again. There was no rest for the weary, no rest for those that deserved it in the Dauntless. They were deployed time and time again, losses be damned. But they were needed, and they wouldn’t complain. Every one of them would find their own way to cope with the losses of their comrades beside them. Luna…Luna had to find her ways as well, though that hadn’t stopped her from repeating the names of those lost on Dantooine in her mind. Rolling over each and every one, seeing their bodies in her minds eye, knowing their fates. She had only just finished writing the letters to the families of those that had been lost when the call came about Abraxas. By the time she finished, her list was longer than practically any battle the Dauntless had ever seen.



“Ann” - Balis Burg - Tau Squad

“Ovinnk” - Balis Burg - Tau Squad

“Dreyn” - Dantooine - Omega Squad

“Sparrow” - Dantooine - Omega Squad

“Tix” - Dantooine - Omega Squad

“Impulse” - Dantooine - Alpha Squad

“Duo” - Dantooine - Omega Squad

Q’aria “Watcher” Tvenes, master sergeant, served since Eshan. - Dantooine - Alpha Squad

“Asher” - Dantooine - Omega Squad

“Thess” - Dantooine - Omega Squad

“Tag” - Dantooine - Omega Squad

“Blank” - Dantooine - Omega Squad

“Ace” - Dantooine - Alpha Squad

“Craze” - Dantooine - Alpha Squad

“Clik” - Dantooine - Alpha Squad

“Guest” - Dantooine - Alpha Squad

“Blott” - Dantooine - Alpha Squad

“Nayfy” - Dantooine - Alpha Squad



There would be a time to memorialize all those that had been lost. She had even been in talks with the viceroy of Scarif already to do something to memorialize them, but for now…now was the time to go to work, and to break in the newbies to the two squads with a mission that was more than certainly going to be dangerous.

As it was with most missions, Luna stood in the middle of the four squads picked to complete this operation, being Alpha, Venom, Tau, and Omega. Plenty of new faces stared back at her from where the Omega’s sat, though she did catch Bones’ and Clerk’s eyes and give them each a nod, all acknowledging just how absolutely exhausted they all felt. There would be an extremely long shore leave after this.

Soon after, her eyes turned to the rest of the squads, pulling up a holofeed of what looked to be base overlooking a cliff side, including something that appeared to be a water hanged built into the cliff itself. Instead of a still image that was tupically included in this briefing, the feed could actually be seen to be moving, something that she’d explain in just a moment. “What you are looking at is what we consider to be the largest ammunition depot in the sector. This, however, is just the upper side of the base.” Motioning to the hanger area, she made sure that this was where the squad’s attention would be focused. “Inside this hanger, we have intel that there is a transport system of some sort that goes to the sea floor. That is where the main storage area of this ammunition for the pirates is being held.”

“Our mission is simple, we will use drop ships to assault the upper portion of the base and take control of the water tram system before they are able to shut it down. Once this is completed, Alpha squad will stay up top to watch for reinforcements while Omega, Tau, and Venom will take the trams down to the storage areas, rig them to blow, and then get the kark out.” Luna’s focus then turned back to the holofeed, looking over the defenses for just a moment before continuing. “We have a team on the ground already, and as you can see, they not on high alert. Let’s use that to our advantage.” With that, she paused the feed to turn back to the rest of squad. For just a moment, she let her face fall, the exhaustion showing in that time in the form of a soft smile as her thumb ran along the edges of Q’aria’s dog tags, wrapped tightly around her gauntlet.

“Alright.” The moment passed, and her eyes moved back to the squads around her. “Lets get to work. We leave in 5 minutes.” The Grand Marshall allowed the group to fiddle out for a few seconds before turning to those that had stayed, her omegas. As she strode over, it was Clerk and Bones that made their way over to her, the medic placing his hand on her shoulder, earning him a soft nod. “How’s Granny holding up?” she asked, referring to how the long time member of the squad had been stuck with the green sniper that each of them agreed was a bit….eccentric.

The medic could barely hold back the smirk, though Clerk was much less capable, letting out a chuckle in response. “Oh, she wants to kill her at this point. Says Mitra has said some of the most..interesting things during the last day.” That wasn’t surprising to hear. Plenty of officers had warned Luna of such a thing when she picked Fay to join as the squad’s newest sniper. But, her scores spoke for themselves, and it would be a lie to say that the rest of the squad was…normal.

Luna just gave the two older commandos a look of mischief and agreement, before calling out to the rest of the squad. “Alright people, let’s get it on. Check your weapons on the way to the dropship, then check them again on the way down. Let’s go.”

 

[Rann Thress]

I D E N T I T Y ​

Tags: Darth Metus​

Abraxes. Another planet desperately seeking Confederate control. Another step on the path to victory. And, unlike Kriselist, an actual active combat zone. Rann was thrilled. A distraction. A direction.

A return to form. And as Rann sat in the back of his own personal transport ship as it began entering atmosphere, meditating, he pondered that that’s what was desperately missing for him. A good excuse to cut back, relax, and use the talents and skills he had acquired over the past 6 years. An opportunity to do what he was trained for.

And so, as he awaited the conclusion of the trip, Rann decided to meditate. To focus his anger and rage, to control the darkness that was so new yet so familiar to him.

In the dark empty of the void he had created to get away from the world, he stared at a reflection of himself. It looked like Him, except for the ever paling skin and bloodshot darksider yellow eyes that had become a permanent fixation. He still looked like Rann. But he wasn’t. He was a far cry now from the magician that once performed on the streets of Iziz. A part of Rann wanted to weep. To mourn for the man he was. The man he had locked away. But ever more enduring was the part of Rann that sought ever more power. It was a conflict that ate at him.

These last few months had created a bit of an identity crisis for Rann. He didn’t even know if he should call himself Rann anymore. That was his name. That was who Rann was not who he is.

He was Rann, yet he wasn’t. The Rann that Rann was, was gone. No longer even a figment of an imagination. That door was slammed shut. Forever. And forgotten about. This.. new Rann this Dark Rann was all the Rann that Rann was. But… he didn’t feel like Rann. He was Rann, yet he wasn’t. He felt like someone else.

As his ship completed it’s final approach Rann arose from his meditation, dispelling the image of himself, and departed the ship. Similarly to Kriselist, Rann elected against informing the local commanders of his presence, choosing instead to begin to advance alone. He knew his mission. Find the enemy, kill the leadership. Easy.

Yet something in his mind continued to eat at him. He knew what he had to do, yet his heart called out for direction. And so, as if subconsciously, Rann found himself calling out one word he never thought he would. Not in this context, not as a cry for help, for direction, guidance. Yet as if being controlled, he spoke.

“Father.”

​

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Location: Entering Abraxas Atmosphere
Objective: Launch Recon and Assault Dropships to locate Civilian Centers
Tag: Open | Tireya Syvare

Vytal scanned the interior before she turned and began to stride across the deck. Her course would carry the Witch a few feet off to one side of Tireya. That is if the woman had any intention of merely passing the other Witch by.

Her boots stopped just inches in front of Tireya. She turned to regard those nearby with her green eyes for just a second. "Stations." There was no time for dawdling or staring. They had places to be and people to save.

Once the crowd was scattered, then Vytal turned to regard the possessed woman that had drawn attention to herself. "You appear to have a great deal on your mind." There were times the woman of Dathomir tried to appear kind or approachable so people would open up. It was not easy to do given her weathered life, but she tried as it was often more effective with offworlders to do so. This was not one of those times. The muscles of her face were fixed, drawing the black and white contrast of her features taunt, while the shimmering greens of her eyes locked on the other woman.

Whether Vytal heard voices or saw things others could not in that moment, she made neither sound nor motion to suggest either. A lidless stare awaited a response to see where Tireya stood mentally and spiritually. Having Witches present in these engagements was...comforting even if she tried to shield them from becoming mere 'tools' to some kind of law enforcement or war machine. However, if those same would place others at risk it would be better if they remain behind. There was no shame in not participating in such missions. The Knights as a whole might be expected of it, but not everyone among the Solanaceae were Knights -- especially those lacking of Force or magickal abilities at all.

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Location: Abraxas, The Lionhearted
Time: 1500 Hours
Tags: Luna Terrik | Tien Ulinesque | Subject 73 Red | Tyran Numeck | CT-308 Maverick | Jasmille Kavos | Jie Tarell | Tegan Farron | Subject 82 Snow | Udrid | Eva Winburn | Titus Dorn | Frank Sterling | Eldin Rake | Asta Nikola | Blair Vauss | Dreyn | Obediah Sharp | Rook Heimdal | Mitra Fay |

Tiria Reinhart, Commander of Alpha Squad, stood at attention with a carefully practiced mask of stone. It was easy to wear considering the number of nearly dying or former soldiers whose consciousnesses had joined her Hive. Not to mention her own training and experience. Recently events certainly weighed upon the men and women under her command that had been put through hell and back. Some managed to hide it nearly as well, while others kept their composure but could not conceal the trauma that haunted them. Worse, there was no time to address it yet as this latest mission surfaced.

Fortunately her mask was so well practiced that the assignment on this particular mission couldn't shake it. Rearguard? No doubt Luna would invoke Omega's position as being the leading squad as the reason they forged ahead despite their losses, while Alpha might be lucky to catch a break. Tiria didn't see being given a 'break' as a blessing, however. Those under her command were not any more likely to snap as any in Omega as a result of this mission.

She would have to voice this objection later. Luna had already decided on her battle plan and announced it. Questioning her openly would not benefit morale, though it may require Tiria to do more damage control later with the unit.

With a sharp salute, Tiria turned to stride straight over to the Alphas. "Alright, Alphas, you heard her. Five minutes to gear up, ready to cut down these pirate scrum. Move it."

A moment later as the caramel skinned woman moved through the area, her hand caught the backside of a commando to haul his ass over the edge of the crate so he was held up by her arm alone. "Marshal says you fight, you fight. Marshal says you die, you die. Marshal says you make sure the enemy doesn't trap Dauntless under the ocean, you make sure that doesn't happen. If you're concerned about being bored, I will find ways to 'entertain you,' am I clear?"

With a lift and shove she set the man back atop their former perch. Tiria straightened to her tallest and surveyed the troops. Some new faces hadn't gotten the memo apparently. Alpha didn't screw around. They might not be called Omega, but Tiria was damned if they were going to be second-rate.

"Jericho," without further regard for the commando she'd berated, Tiria strode over to one of those there for the haul. "Make sure the big guns are loaded. We're going to set up a defensive perimeter. Anyone tries to cross it, we give them hell."

 

[Domino Dubose]

Ship: The Iron Claw
Anashla Deshal | Aleksandr Kerensky | Kiff Brayde | Verin Oldo | G 3 M 1 N 1 | Amelia von Sorenn
​

"Damn piece of chit!" Domino called out as his boot slammed into the firing pin for one of their Laser batteries.

There were two Firing Bays aboard CNS Iron Claw. The top bay was filled with some of the best guns that Dominio had ever seen in his life. They worked well, cycled perfectly, and when it came time for maintenance they were some of the easiest to detail. The lower bay? It was a karking nightmare. For whatever reason, Firing Bay two had been a problem child ever since Domino received the ship under his command. The guns jammed, the droids were half-defective, and there was almost always something new to send the Lieutenant into a cursing fit.

The worst part of the Laser Batteries were the firing pins. Large cylinders of metal a few feet long, they were supposed to slide inside of their titanium host with little to no resistance. However, a few of the guns on the lower deck were filled with muck and corrosion from the previous mission, causing the guns to jam. In times like these Domino is always appreciative of his first year as a maintenance Officer.

"Sir." A droid approached him, holding out a massive iron wrench. The wrenches were use to remove the massive bolts that adhered a plate over the majority of the firing pin, allowing it to be properly cleaned.

Domino took the wrench into his hands, hefting it over his shoulder and in one angry swing, he slammed it into the side of the firing pin. The shock echoed out, however immediately after the loud bang, the firing pin was free from its jam, slamming into the host successfully. A few more stray curses fell from Domino while he tossed the wrench onto the ground near the gun battery. He grunted in agitation when he heard the familiar clanking of his tactical droid. The Confederacy saw fit to assign those ship-Captain's new in command with tactical droids. Per his contract, Domino had another year before he could run the ship without a nanny.

"Lieutenant Dubose. We are dropping out of Hyperspace in seven minutes and twenty-two seconds. Why are you not on the ship's bridge, sir?"

Domino groaned, his hand grabbing the ear piece that fell out of his ear and was dangling in front of his chest. "We had a weapons malfunction, came to check it out."

"Understood. Please join me on the bridge, sir. Field Marshal Deshal has ordered that we hold position and maintain readiness." The Tactical Droid turned towards the bridge, Dominio following besides him with an arched brow.

While moving down the main spine of the ship, Domino scoffed, shaking his head a bit before muttering. "She want us to polish our boots while we sit and wait?" He muttered.

"She gave no such order, sir." The droid responded, obviously not understanding the sarcasm behind the Lieutenant's words.

In no time, Domino and his Tactical Droid appeared on the ship's bridge. The crew was a small one, yet as the man walked in they all froze, turning towards their Commander.

"Lieutenant on deck!" One of the officer's proclaimed. Domino waived his hand at the men so they knew to continue their work. "At east, let's get to work." Domino said, standing ahead of the ship's command throne. Almost immediately the ship's intercom let off a soft chime. A three-note sound to signal a shift from hyperspace to real space. One of the Officer's spoke in conjunction with the chime. "Entering real space in three...two...now." He announced.

The ship moved into real space with the rest of Field Marshal Anashla Deshal ships. Domino clasped his hands behind his back before swiping his hand through the air. "Alright ladies. Lets get our after-jump checks out of the way and signal the flagship so they know we're in one piece." The swipe through the air was an signal that caused the bridge's holocommand function to activate, causing a holoscreen of the ship's diagnostics to appear before the Lieutenant.

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