Dominion The Red War: Abraxas | CIS

[Tireya Syvare]

Location: Abraxas' Atmosphere
Objective: An Escape
Tag: Vytal Noctura | Open​

As the words slipped syllable by syllable from the Nightmother’s lips, Tireya couldn’t help but to feel a rage, driven by fear, swell up from within. He knuckles flashed and ghastly white as her hand clenched and flexed around the pummel of the sheathed along her hip. The woman’s words unveiled to her but one thing that her conscious mind honed in to, allowing disregard toward the other lessons to be learned in the lone simple sentiment. She was doomed to a cursed life. One plagued by her possession and the never ending torrent of voices Vytal has enlightened her that she was to endured. A lifetime of torment and agony. Of bitterness and an exhausting attempt to cling to whatever insanity remained. If there was any left.

Was it worth it? Was it worth her continuing to step forward in this lifetime when her path was not to be her own? When there was no way she could rid herself of the voices that vexed her very existence?

She stepped back and pulled the blade of Brimn’r from its sheath, first pointing its tip toward Vytal, then to the abyss of spectral forms that swirled around them. Finally she turned the weapon on herself, directing the tip to the underside of her jaw, but halted short of thrusting the thirsty blade into herself. The tip grazed the skin, kissing it gently, so as to not draw the blood which it desired so. Her eyes closed for a moment then reopened.

Valyra remained silent within, though her fears could not be denied. For so long the spirit had sought an escape from its entombment on Rimos. One that was found in Tireya, yet its mission had not concluded. Vaylra had yet to take upon herself the taste of mortal flesh once more. She would not tie herself to actions that could lead to the desecration of the form which was the harbinger her very existence. No. That simply would not do.

“So riddle me this,” Tireya began, the metallic blade shining bright in a brilliant azure. “If I’m damned to this cursed existence, why not end it? Why endure the endless horror of torment and agony? If there is no escape in this life, why not expedite my way to the next?”

 

[Verin Oldo]

Kiff Brayde | Anashla Deshal | Vemric Keldra | Aleksandr Kerensky | G 3 M 1 N 1 | Domino Dubose | Amelia von Sorenn | Cypher Rage


"What do you mean it's gone?"

Oldo looked up the Marshal. His own comm had beeped, the tepid voice of the tactical officer speaking calmly and concisely. Unlike other crews in the galaxy, Oldo's crew dealt with these occurrences with a considered approach, having anticipated the multitude of possible events that flair up in space flight. Histrionics and drama were unbecoming and unwelcome on his bridge, let alone the Line. The 513 was the backbone of the hardiest sections of the sector Armada and this change of circumstances only engaged a subsidiary plan of attack.

Oldo nodded and made his way for the bridge, the High Marshal likely to follow. He knew there would be no need to stand on ceremony during a combat situation and so a crisp salute would have been out of the question. As it was, even Kiff Brayde, famous galvanizer and fool-hardy renegade leader of the Bassadro Sector Armada, wouldn't do too much to prize command of the captain of a battlecruiser. Rank meant something in the chain of command, the politics of space, but little held greater sway to the crew than its assigned captain.

Oldo took the bridge in, a familiar sight and sound greeting him. His station was on a raised dais, above the main operations hub. His tactical display was showing all signs of activity, other CIS and guest complements doing their utmost to withdraw and engage around the remains of the Valor.

What a tragedy, he thought to himself.

"Make no adjustments to the Line. Hold fast and prepare to cordon off any craft that might make their way towards us."

They'd be very foolish to fall into this particular trap, he thought. A fully harmed CIS Heavy Attack Line was deadly. Completely and utterly deadly.

"Prepare to launch all additional fighters into the fray-I think they could do with some additional help on sight."

He motioned, typing into his tactical display channel. It hailed the fervent Aleksandr Kerensky .

"Captain, this is Commander Oldo of the CIS 513th. We are positioned a little way of and ready to provide additional support. We are deploying our fighter wing; do try not to shoot them down!"

Save some for the rest of us, Verin thought.

Oldo finished the communique; he found Kerensky to be...over-zealous in his destructive ire. Oldo had the tactical readout locked in with the fighter control arrays; they didn't need to be attacking neutral or allied targets in a hurry. CIS ships carried identifiers that enabled them to be discerned as friend or foe. He checked the readiness alerts.

28 squadrons. 672 fighters.

The Line, made up of its vast battlecruiser, Star Destroyers and accompanying ships started to unload their large formations of droid starfighters, counting in the hundreds. They would swarm over any enemy combatants with great ease. There wasn't a chance in Hoth that the meagre enemy force could withstand the overwhelming destructive might of the 513th.

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

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

Deploy fighter support. Engage any enemy targets.

 

[Mitra Fay]

Location: Abraxas, .3 Clicks from the pirate base
Time: 1510 Hours
Equipment: XIPHOS Armor, BCR-Compact Sniper Rifle, BAW-56 Blaster Pistol, SYC Smoke Grenades (3)
Tags: | Luna Terrik | Tiria Reinhart | Frank Sterling | Rook Heimdal | CT-8429 |

“Here they come. Weapons free, runt.”

Mitra hated that nickname. It was demeaning, yet almost everyone in the squad had seemingly adopted it as the perfect tagline for the little blonde. She’d barely had any time to earn a different one before this was seemingly stapled to her forehead, leaving her practically fuming every time she heard it. And it certainly didn’t help anything when the tall, annoying other newbie to the squad seemingly loved to call her that any chance she got. That Rook character could go jump into a Rancor’s mouth at the moment for all she cared….

But the time to chew out that rock headed commando would come later, and she couldn’t very well do something like that if they all died in a firey explosion. Especially not one caused by an anti air turret she had every opportunity to take out. The moment that Granny gave her the clearance, her first shot rang clear in the air, even if it did not find it’s way home true to her target.

Her first shot went low, finding it’s spot directly into the concrete at the gunners feet. She could see it well enough, but Granny speaking up from her position next to her, eyes glued to the range finder, helped immensely. “Low, kid. Bring it up…half a rotation.” She shifted slightly, pushing her shoulder lower under the butt of the gun to bring the barrel the slightest bit. Her sights once again found the head of the drunk gunner, firing away at the shuttles quickly approaching their dominion. With his squeamish alien head firmly between her crosshairs, and her lungs slowly becoming devoid of oxygen…she pushed the pad of her finger against the trigger…and pushed.

The first gunner’s head exploded into bits of brain and viscera all over his partner, whom she quickly shifted to before he was able to truly react to what had just happened. Her second shot was less true, yet effective none the less, leaving a smoldering hole in the second gunner’s windpipe. The breath she took in was ragged, yet deep, filling her lungs once again as her back relaxed.

The shuttles were coming in now, however, and her sights found themselves focused on the pirates that had found it fit to hide behind the cover of the wall’s wall. “You’re looking at….370 meters now, runt. 310 degrees…” A pause, long enough for Mitra to paint the wall red with a shot through a pirates back. “Good shooting, kid. Keep it up, and lets see them through to the tram.” A silent nod was Granny’s response from the blonde, with Mitra not yet allowing a smile to peak at her lips that desperately wanted to appear. Work was still needing to be done, and despite the shots that rang true so far…more were still to come.

She’d earn her place this day.

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

Location: Abraxas, The Lionhearted
Tags: Luna Terrik | Subject 73 Red | Frank Sterling | Rook Heimdal | Mitra Fay | CT-8429

The Master Sergeant of Alpha made sure every ass was on board when they were scheduled for lift off. Securing exfil was important, but it wasn't the front line and that was the 'selling point' of Dauntless. So Tiria would be damned if anyone of her squad was giving the Marshal was reason to leave them back on the next mission. If they were tasked with holding the rear, then they would hold it better than anyone had ever held it before. And they'd slaughter anyone that took a shot at them.

Reinhart was the last one on board, and she gave the signal to get under way the second she took her spot standing up.

Their arrival was part of the excitement, though it seemed someone else felt like showing some initiative. No heavy weaponry raining hell on a rag tag band of pirates? Well, hell, you didn't get to kill them all yourself sometimes.

A quick visual as their dropship neared the LZ, and the Master Sergeant updated the battlefield map for her squad. Nothing out of place from initial recon. Never hurt to double check. Couldn't trust smaller, but just as deadly changes hadn't been made, but no one joined Dauntless looking for safety. "Move out," her helmet's synth snapped as the doors popped open.

Not one to avoid a fight, the Sergeant didn't take the fore in this engagement. Alpha was securing topside. That meant she needed to direct several members to hauling gear to cover until the squads took the flat top. Then the fun started when they had to hold it -- assuming anyone was left to challenge them. Herg gloved hand pointed as orders were called out over the din of battle. There'd even been a time Alpha Actual had to lean her head a bit to one side to avoid a stray blaster bolt. She happily returned it to them.

Tap-tap, swipe. Various entrenching positions had been decided upon before battle had been joined. Reinhart sent them out to those at the front to begin securing them. CT-8429 , have Axel and Buster secure the tram chokepoint. It was the last and most important of the defensive positions. Sure, if they were pushed back that far it'd be hell making it from the tram to any exfil, but there'd be a chance -- and Dauntless didn't even need 'a chance' to take on a fight. Wasn't about to let some Pirates drop a bomb down and kill everyone, however. The man would even get the pleasure of fighting his way there. Whatever the rest of the squads didn't pick off, anyway.

 

[Lyli Dragi]

Lyli Dragi shivered in the freezer, a neural disruptor collar attached to a partly melted neck, exposed flesh caked with ice sickles, involuntary pig like squeals occasionally escaping her throat as her flesh was ruptured and cracking from the cold damage, surrounded by wards drawn in glowing blue chalk.

This Pirate had taken her completely by surprise, and thoroughly defeated in minutes. Only now was it starting to sink in, how badly she had underestimated this..."Howard"...he had even anticipated which route she would take to flee after being discovered. Now there were two people pointing shotguns at her from two different directions in the freezer.

Lyli couldn't help but admit she was in a pretty bad spot. She had very few options. Howard had her completely dead to rights, and Lyli hated feeling this vulnerable. He could have killed her when he first brought her down, and there wouldn't be a thing she could have done to stop it.

So why was she still alive?

"So..." she hissed through melted and frozen lips. "What's the plan for me?"

They didn't answer. Howard must have instructed them not to talk to her or each other. To do absolutely nothing but point those guns at her head. With the neural disruptor and the strange wards surrounding her, it was clear she wasn't going anywhere with The Force's help.

"Come now, boys, be reasonable." Lyli hissed with a frozen, cracked, partly melted face that had icicles slowly forming. "You can't think...I'll be the last, will you? Your boss dusted a Knight Obsidian. There are consequences for that. Kill me, sell me off, it doesn't matter. They'll send another..."

"He told us you would say something like that. He also told us not to listen no matter what you try and tempt us with. Even if its a share of the price on his head." One of the gunman spoke. "If you talk again, I'll shoot you."

Lyli frowned as best she was able. No talking her way out of this.

Wow, had Howard done his best to cover his bases...

Lyli was at a bit of a loss...Couldn't talk her way out, certainly couldn't shoot at the moment. She really needed to actually think her way out of this.

Wait a minute...he'd shoot her if she spoke again?

Lyli struggled to stand in the wards. Howard wasn't stupid...he had placed her in a corner of the freezer, where she couldn't retreat, and the wards both prevented her from leaving them as well as disrupt her connection to The Force. The shooters covered her sides. The neural disruptor strapped to a melted, frozen head did not help matters.

She looked at her environment, then glanced at the corner behind her. Coolant piping ran up it. Howard had made exactly 'one' mistake. But how to exploit it?

Lyli thought a moment, and decided to take a risk.

"When I get out..." Lyli hissed at the gunman. "I'll skin you first."

He opened fire and Lyli barely dodged the blast, some of the pellets ricocheting and making the other shooter stumbled back in panic as Lyli screamed in pain as coolant gas spilled out from a penetration of the piping, flooding the area with white fog.

"Really, Tedd?! Really!? That was a fething point blank shot and you still couldn't hit her?!" the second pirate complained.

They heard something break faintly. Parts of the neural disruptor were thrown at them and they immediately opened fire when they saw the coolant residue had obscured the wards...

Lyli leapt out of the fog, tackling the first gunman, with badly reduced strength, just barely managing to use him as a human shield from the second shooter's shotgun, which blasted his former comrade in the back. Lyli shoved her dead shield at him then unloaded on both with the stolen shotgun, wheeling around as four heavily armed guards with repeaters came in. Lyli decided to flee the freezer.

Using what little Force Strength she had regained, Lyli ran, bathing a wall to her left with pink flames and dived into them, hoping something was on the other end of this wall she had made permeable...

 

[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 | Acantha Malvern |

The force worked in many funny ways when it came to Xobos, and Miraluka’s as a whole. It was almost the same as when another other sentient being lost a key part of their senses, such as hearing or sight. Some other of their senses were essentially boosted in the absence of another. Her species was much the same, except for the fact the force didn’t have to make up for an absence of another sense, instead giving them an..updated and boosted view of the world through the force itself.

It was through this site that she began to notice subtle fluctuations through the force coming from the wall of the base area. What looked to be echoes through the darkness, perhaps nothing more than the rock setting itself, emitted from a centralized area to the left of the group. The young Malvern that had joined them was making similar echoes through the force as she trounced about, trying to find her own way into the base. Better to let her attempt it on her own, she’d learn one way or another that perhaps working as a group would yield better results.

Her mind once again focused on where the echoes were coming from a smaller area on the way, near the left base of it. The more her mind focused on the spot, the more it became evident it became that something unnatural was grabbing her attention. Rhythmic echoes from the spot became more rounded, being expelled over and over again until her mind was able to make out the edges.

A door.

The misty darkness of meditation cleared quickly enough, allowing her sight to return to a somewhat normalcy. What could be considered normal for a Miraluka, at least. It was then she saw her fellow sister extending a hand down toward her, prompting the slightest of smiles to grab at the edges of her lips. Xobos accepted the outstretched hand, pulling herself up to her feet, then motioned to the wall. “C’mon, I found our way inside this place.”

Of course, getting inside was certainly not as easy as it otherwise might’ve seemed. Despite being able to run their fingers through the slight divot the door made, there was little to no grip with these suits to pry it open. And they were losing time, for it would not be long until their suits ran out of air. They didn’t have time to look for a switch to open the door, which left one option for the pair of sisters.

Her lightsaber was retrieved from where it floated on her belt, ignited silently into the empty vacuum of space. Taking a step back, she lined the tip of the blade with the edge of the door then plunged it deep, beginning to slowly cut her way around the edge of the door. “Help me out here, we need to get inside soon.” Her voice spoke to Echo, though over the comm the Malvern could certainly hear it as well. If the little black bird wanted to do her own thing, that was fine, but Xobos would be damned if she didn’t at least remind her how close they all were to suffocating to the empty nothingness of space.

 

[Kiff Brayde]

S T O R M B R E A K E R

Tag: Verin Oldo | Anashla Deshal | Aleksandr Kerensky | G 3 M 1 N 1 | Domino Dubose | Luca Donskoi

If there was one thing that was almost universally respected by good naval officers, junior and superior, of any nation or fleet, was the respect for a captain's command of his or her own ship. Kiff recognized that although the Al'raja, the 513th, and the entire Bassadro Armada were technically under his command, he was still very much a guest hosted by the ship's gracious captain. That modicum of respect had been drilled into him from the very beginning of his days at the Arkanis Naval Academy, and it had been a part of his life in the navy since.

Along those lines, Kiff took a passive role as he let the Commander, by and large, operate his own crew. He was mostly here for observation -- Commander Verin Oldo had served valiantly at two recent engagements with foreign powers, both at Talay and Dantooine, and had for a while now been under the impression that the Commander would be a great candidate for a recently-opened position of Fleet Marshal in the Armada; what with the recent tensions growing between the Confederacy and Galactic Alliance, the role once again had fallen on Kiff to ensure that the Bassadro Sector and by proxy the Confederacy did not come under the tyranny of the Galactic Alliance. But first, he had elected to accompany the Commander to this mission to ensure that he would be fit for the increase in responsibility. Kiff knew all too well of the dangers that came from undeserving promotions.

He sharply inhaled his breath as he watched the CNS Valor succumbed to its injuries and imploded, spreading debris through the vacuum of space. Just like that, a whole Star Destroyer was gone. And because of what? Faulty intelligent? Rough and directionless leadership. Kiff discreetly shook his head, not in outright disgust, but a more mellowed disappointment. An underwhelming foe that had still managed to embarrass the Confederacy, which could have been avoided in the first place if the system hadn't been so broken.

He folded his arms, saying nothing as he continued to let the Commander delegate and prove himself. But it was clear that by now, their mission objective one way or another had been completed. There was nothing more to defend.
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[Luna Terrik]

B R E A K

Location: Abraxas, ride down to the planet
Time: 1516 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.
Assignment: Omega Squad, CO.
Tags: | Tiria Reinhart | Subject 73 Red | Frank Sterling | Rook Heimdal | Mitra Fay | CT-8429 |

It almost surprised her how easily they sliced through the resistance of pirates, like a hot knife through a scud pie. There was practically no time to move from cover to cover, as by the time one knelt down, they would be up and moving forward once again. These were the moments could truly shine. They worked as a team, with Omega pushing up and through the middle of what defenses still laid bare, while the others worked their ways around the side, constantly catching the enemy that didn’t have their wits about them in between a crossfire that tore them to shreds. After Dantooine, she wasn’t sure she’d see something like this again for a while.

Her confidence in the unit was shaken, that was to be sure. For kark’s sake, she had lost two thirds of Alpha and Omega squads in less than an hour. They were on the back foot from the very moment they fired their first shot, running for their lives while feigning sitting in cover to take a few potshots at the enemy. An overwhelming force from the very beginning, it never felt like they got a foothold safe enough to take a breath. When they finally did get just a moment to breath, it was brought down on their heads when those white armored…nerf hearders decided they were much too scared to fight face to face and instead chose to artillery the base to rubble.

Twenty-four had walked onto that good for nothing planet…eight walked off. To say that Tau and Venom were being brought along on this op to balance out the newness of Omega and Alpha went, well, without saying. But, at least for the moment, the results seemed relatively promising, and by the time the three squads had pushed their way into the underwater tram station, the comms from the squad leads seemed to encourage said promise.

It was unusual for her to call an audible in this type of situation, but with how well the squads had preformed so far…perhaps it was time to see just how they felt under the heat of the fire.

“Change of plans, people,” She called out through the comm, stepping over the body of one pirate who lay half in the tram, half out. Pushing him out with the toe of her boot, she motioned for the rest of the Omega’s to follow her side, followed by the Tau, and then… “Alpha squad, you’re with the Omegas and Tau on the water transport. Venom, stay up top and keep the exit secured.” There would be plenty of time given to the Alpha CO and her people to switch over any defensive procedures or weaponry that they were supposed to use, then board with the other two squads.

In the meantime, Luna knelt down near the tram’s center console, comm switching to focus only into the Omega’s for a moment, specifically for Granny and the Runt, though the rest of the squad would be able to hear. “You two stay where you are, like we planned. Work with Venom CO for target identification and elimination. Good work, you two.” Turning back, she watched as the final members of Alpha squad boarded, the nodded to the nearest available commando to the inner controls.

“Let’s go swimming.”

Spoiler

Posting order, since we got a little screwy with drop outs and new additions.

Luna - Frank - Tiria - CT 8429 - Rook - Mitra

Any questions, y'all have my dm open.

 

[Ascendant Insight]

​

The Valor was lost in a bold move by the pirates to strike at the Confederacy and humiliate the Navy. With the loss of the Valor the pirates only provoked a stronger response, not the humiliation that they sought to inflict. Through the combined efforts of the Confederate Navy and the Hope from the Dire Wolves Mercenary company Naval Forces began a systematic sweep of the debris field destroying anything that could be considered a haven. The starfighters that accompanied naval forces ensured those that scored the kill on the Valor would not live to see another day.

Meanwhile on the ground the confederacy marshaled its forces in the form of Dauntless leading a daring raid, into the pirate stronghold to seize their supply lines. Meanwhile above ground forces comprising of Strill Securities lead a armored column against a fortified pirate base, the final stronghold on the planet that would soon fall and return peace to the Abraxus system.

 

[G 3 M 1 N 1]

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TAG: Verin Oldo | Anashla Deshal | Aleksandr Kerensky | G 3 M 1 N 1 | Domino Dubose ​

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​

A voice on the other end of the line was a relief, slamming the air brake and veering to the angle that was instructed she would begin to rush the location, the hard 90 degree left and bank six degrees up was a surprise though. Gem had not choice however but to trust it, carrying out the maneuver with jiji the two of them would begin to play possum with the impending firing line that was closing in on them with expert finesse. For criminals, the piloting skills of these guys weren't as bad as one would think. They were practiced in this asteroid field, they had to be good to survive the environment and operate in it with any form of competency. ​

But as the line came into range, moving to attempt to cut Gem off, knowing that there were other forces somewhere the the area, they would begin to break up a little, flying in loose formations while the guns would begin to roar. Gem would attempt to begin evasive maneuvers, Jiji following suit as the two of them would break formation, so that the grouped fire wouldn't accidently target the other for the most part while they would weave between boulderous asteroids within the planets ring which would explode around them with the force of the plasma cannons. Gem would attempt to move in between the larger rocks, providing a bit more cover and protection as she was able to use the break of line of sight to adjust her angle, turning upward while she was out of sight in order to feint in a direction. ​

The blasts were getting eerily close, one would slam into the deflector shields of the ship prompting alarms to blare in Gem's ears, the AI assistant confirming 'Alarmed Statement: Another hit like that, and this ship will not be able to take it.' Gem would focus, her processing power capping out as she would engage her subsystems. "The're not going to get another hit!" She would confirm, hammering the thrust of the ship as she would begin to dive, bank turn swirl, dip, lift and evade the shots which fell around her as a super heated rain. Her systems projecting the directions of their guns, projectile speeds and rates of fire which had her avoiding blaster fire by meters in the single digits, feeling the proverbial wind on them as they raced by. ​

"I Can't take much more of this they're getting cl-," And that's when they had missile lock. ""Fuck!" Gemini would curse as she would double down, evasive action wasn't an option now as she would have to throw everything into directional speed, charting a course as she would attempt to lead missiles into the path of moving asteroids that were coming in behind her, even loosing one of her own in order to shatter a rock into a debris field which would blow up a couple more of them. The pirates had succeeded into drawing her out of nimble maneuvers pushing her to simply gun it for the hills with everything she has, hoping that her raw speed was able to outrun their firing line. One of the shots slammed into her ship's wing, the brunt of the bolt taken off of her shields as it would penetrate the side, dealing some reasonable damage, disabling some of her weapons systems.​

"W-well that's not good..." She would say as there was a small explosion in the distance, Jiji rocketing out of it, his ship seemed to be a little more banged up than hers, but it wasn't looking good for him either. He was lagging behind a little more, but he was also a little further out. Luckily having four arms had some advantages in the piloting business. "Whatever you're going to do, you need to do it now!" She'd shout, charting a manual firing arc for one of the missiles she had bayed, firing it as it would turn 110 degrees, launching into an asteroid as two of the fighters would fly by to either side, snapping off the two wings that were closest to the rock pulling the ships into one another as they would explode in a cloud of fire and glory. Gem was moments from where she needed to be for their guns, it was going to be clutch, but, with just a little luck... Maybe only just!​

 

[Aleksandr Kerensky]

Location: Abraxus System, preparing to enter into the brawl range with enemy forces
Vessel: Star Destroyer Hope, full complements of Dragon Fighters and War Hound Drop Ships
Objective: Kill 'em all, let God sort them out
Tags: G 3 M 1 N 1 Verin Oldo Kiff Brayde Anashla Deshal Domino Dubose Cypher Rage

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Kerensky would allow a small smile to come across his face as he saw the pair of fighters make their directed maneuver, coming into a chase intercept vector on Hope. It was at this point the helmsman and various other crew members knew to initiate their downturn of the ship's attack, bringing themselves to fall like a massive blade of Damocles. Kerensky's voice would fill the bridge as he issued his commands to his crew.

"Engines all ahead Flank! Echo teams scramble those ship's weapons and get me schematics of that station. I want their burning hulks to resemble nothing more than slag as we show these degenerates the full might of The Dire Wolves. Prepare boarding parties for that station, I want commandos to bring me the ring leaders of this little entourage alive if at all possible. Gunners focus fire on those cruisers and prepare disabling shots against the station. This is it lads! GIVE 'EM ALL YOU GOT!"

The opening barrage from Hope would fire as she angled her bow to line up with one of the Victory class cruisers and roar in defiance and rage. Mjolnir cannons would belch out massive Ionite-A based cannister rounds, Turbolasers and Ion Cannons would unleash staccatos of fire, and the true power of the Thor would be unleashed. A massive bolt of plasma would erupt from the particle projectile cannon and slam into one of the Victory Cruisers as they turned to engage Hope, cutting its return volley short as it obliterated the vessel in a massive blast of blue light. But the station and remaining Victory Cruiser wouldn't go down without a fight, both returning fire with Turbolasers, Missiles, Ion Cannons, and Torpedoes as they met Hope with equal ferocity. The three would tango up close and personal as the brawl became joined, Hope trading hammer blows with the two sides as she decided to take on the enemy ahead of the CAF Fleet. She would not allow anyone to escape her wrath. She would not allow any to leave this day without great sacrifice. As an naval saying went, come hell or high water she would take on all comers, displaying her might in an impressive fireworks show of technology, brawn, and determination.

​

Meanwhile as G3M1N1 and her wingman made their hard turns, Red and Gold Squadrons would go to full afterburners as they made their intercept vectors. These pirates may have had the "home field advantage" but The Dire Wolves didn't have the advertised "Any Fight, Any Time, Any Where," for nothing. The F4 Dragons would weave through the asteroids and debris field, moving with the skill and grace of these veterans not only displayed their skills as pilots, but familiarity with their craft. These pilots knew their machines inside and out better than any standard pilot, they were considered elite for good reason, and for them this was just another mission. Just another fight, in just another place. G3M1N1 would first see the oncoming pilots of Red Squadron as they were making a direct beeline for them, Red Leader cycling through available munitions as he received targeting data from Gold Squadron as they had eyes on G3M's would be tails. He would signal to his wing that they were to go in guns and missiles blazing, and absolutely smash into the oncoming craft to disrupt their formation, letting Gold come in and clean up what was left. The lead craft would do a roll to avoid another asteroid as it came in at absolutely insane speeds, missing G3M's craft by what seemed to be mere centimeters but in actuality would be a few meters. He would call out confirmations and launches of their remaining SIM-1 Havoc missiles as they unleashed their barrage of machine gun, laser cannon and missile fire. Explosions would light up the void of space as missiles collided, fighter craft exploded, and all hell broke loose between the squadrons, the two devolving into a dogfight almost immediately. And then Gold Squadron would swoop in for the coup de grace, splitting into hunter-killer teams as they chased down and annihilated craft who were focused on the pilots of Red Squadron. They would deal with the enemy here, and Red Leader would radio G3M as he was in the middle of going into a rolling scissor with an enemy craft that while modified, wasn't near as maneuverable the Dragon.

"Violet Leader, Red Leader, we have this handled. Regroup at Hope, we have facilities to repair and rearm your vessel," He would pause as he switched channels to Hope's STC "Hope, Red Leader. Be advised incoming two pax, Romeo Alpha, callsign of pax Violet Leader,"

"Roger Red Leader, two pax, Repairs and Ammo, Hope out,"

Meanwhile the War Hounds prepared for liftoff, waiting for the go ahead from Kerensky to begin boarding operations on the station. They would clear a landing lane for the two fighters, ground crews on standby with various fire fighting tools, munitions belts, missile racks, and other items to ensure that this swap would be as fast as possible. Because they all knew every second counted when it came to stuff like this. On the order all three squadrons of War Hounds would deploy to take the fight to the pirates on the station. Their Commandos ready to breach, cut and otherwise force entry and slay or capture all opposition. But still they would wait as Kerensky wasn't about to waste them needlessly getting caught in the crossfire. Their time would come to visit hell upon the occupants of the station.

Soon. Oh so very soon.

 

[Laertia Io]

T'sid Surt'r petted Laertia's scalp as she lay on Surt'r's sofa, clutching her black Lightsaber hilt, the crystal within soothing her agony.

"How did it happen, my Love?" T'sid questioned, fingers coming across the long thin trench in her scalp as Laertia recovered from her migraine episode.

"It was..." Laertia stopped, uncertain why she wanted to tell the creature this as she reclined, looking up at ancient stars, head resting on Surt'r's lap.

"It was a suicide attempt..." Laertia finally said.

She felt T'sid wince emotionally.

"Why?" Surt'r asked, small tears falling from Cat-Like eyes.

"I...I was...heartbroken..." Laertia asked.

"Over who?"

"Someone who is now dead..." Laertia answered.

"Oh."

"It was a long time ago."

"Understood..." T'sid replied. "Do the headaches always happen, Julia?"

"Yeah...my one attempt to end my pain ended up causing me pain for my life..."

Laertia rose up, raven hair slipping out of T'sid's fingers.

"Why didn't you try again?"

"Because I was ashamed of having attempted it the first time..." Laertia answered. "Part of me thought I could just disappear...but there is no disappearing. Gods know I tried."

Surt'r paused.

"I've never understood what I am. People were always afraid of me, even when I was nice. Even Jedi were afraid of me. I've been...tempted towards where you went...at times...'

Laertia glanced at her. Against her better judgement, she reached out to touch Surt'r's face. Surt'r touched hers in turn.

Laertia felt extreme sadness for both of them in that moment. About what it meant if Surt'r was right...

It still didn't change what she had done.

She was an exile. She had fought so hard she wasn't a Jedi anymore in anyone's eyes. But she wouldn't stand aside. There had to be a way to Force the GA and the NIO to the table, but how?

Killing the Leadership would help, but that would solve maybe a quarter of the problems. The rest needed to be either negotiating or inflicting enough damage at precise points...or just plain subverting the military for an attempted coup. For now it was enough they were arranging things just to harrass them. But a more long term solution to force those governments to the table would be needed...otherwise the other solution would be to absolutely destroy one government and isolate its assets for absorbtion, while isolating the remaining government and forcing them to the table, and hopefully forcing the other Jedi to an Alliance whether they wanted it or not. She refused to let their stubbornness doom the Galaxy.

"The Bryn'adul? Is that their name?" T'sid asked.

Laertia turned her head slowly to face her.

"I couldn't help but hear it. You were thinking about them so loudly...is that who we fight in the future?"

"Yeah. We won't have Jedi support..."

"Right...you said you were an Exile...how did you become one?"

Laertia stood up, looking out at the city.

"I wanted to fight the war in a way they didn't want to..."

She felt Surt'r's concern deepen.

"It came to blows, didn't it?" Surt'r asked gently.

Laertia turned. "Yes. I'd rather not get into details."

"I have my own views on fighting...they don't always mesh with the Order's views. They've been trying to 'civilize' war for millennia. All it ever does is blow up in their face. Cruelty is practically a requirement to win. Undesirable. But unavoidable. Nowadays they just use me for whoever they can't knock over easily. You'd think that would get me some respect. It doesn't. Not really. Because I know, the moment I openly disagree with them on anything about fighting the Darkness or spreading Peace...all that is over. They'll shut their ears. I'm tired of them, in a lot of ways..."

Laertia said nothing at this. The words reflected her own frustration.

She watched this golden city. It was so peaceful and tranquil looking. Full of Jedi who thought they didn't have to compromise with the rest of the universe.

They were going to lose this. All of this...and like it was in the Clone Wars, it would be entirely their fault. And they would still think they would be in the right for all of it...

Laertia felt Surt'r's hands on her shoulder.

"Do you want to fight them?" Surt'r asked.

"No. But I believe they are wrong. And I am willing to fight them because I believe it."

Laertia put her hand on Surt'r's.

"Are you willing to fight them alongside me?" Laertia asked quietly.

"Always...wherever you go, I shall go. Your burdens are my burdens." Surt'r assured, turning Laertia to face her.

"I have to go back to the future, T'sid." Laertia said. "It's been a lovely evening, but I cannot stay."

Surt'r nodded sadly.

"My blade is yours. You being here means I will eventually conceal it. And you will eventually find it at the very bridge by which you first arrived--"

T'sid stopped, looked around. Laertia saw shuttles from the Jedi temple approaching in the distance.

"Oh no. They've felt it..." Surt'r whispered in frustration.

"They felt the disturbance from your magic..." Laertia realized.

"I had hoped I was thorough enough to hide it...pity..." T'sid remarked, gesturing for Laertia to follow her back into the apartment.

"Here..." Surt'r said, removing her jacket, exposing a crimson shirt underneath. She pressed it to Laertia's grasp. Laertia was so confused she didn't know how to take the gesture. She just grasped it.

"I wish we had more time. There's so much we had to discuss..." Surt'r spoke. "I would have liked to duel you..."

"Don't worry..." Laertia replied calmly.

Surt'r smiled, kissed her. Laertia felt a strange safety with her, in spite of how they had met...

She pulled away.

"This shall not be our last encounter..." Surt'r assured her.

The world went white...

Laertia stumbled back into the arms of a confused Nine Lives, still grasping the strange Lightsaber.

"Laertia? What happened? You froze for like a split second and then you jumped back..." Nine asked. "Hey, where'd you get the Jacket..."

"What?" Laertia muttered before staring at the crimson jacket in her hand.

"It looks like yours. What the hell happened when you touched that blade?"

"I dunno..." Laertia answered truthfully.

She let Nine hold the jacket, and examined the blade, activating it. She sensed what she had sensed when examining it at Surt'r's apartment. Great and terrible power

Its surface was burned, but the craftsmanship was superb. She found the twist motion that split the saber in two, the second half a dual phase blue blade.

She spun it. Even with the longer than normal hilt and the energy quillions, it had excellent balance.

"We should leave..." Laertia spoke.

"No chit..." Nine muttered, handing Laertia back her new jacket.

Both soon exited the caves. That's when they sensed them.

They wore black and red armor familiar to Laertia. Familiar since Dantooine. They approached the mine entrance from all angles.

Imperial Knights. Assassins, Laertia surmised.

"Laertia Io, by will of The New Imperials, your life is now forfeit. You shall pay for slaughtering our brethren, as well as your own..." one of them said, activating a white blade.

"You're the fools who would rather kill Sith than Bryn'adul. Die." Laertia said quietly, activating her new blade. Nine tossed the jacket aside and drew her katana.

"Never killed me New Imps before..." Nine muttered as she stood next to Laertia. "What's it like?"

"I wasn'treally paying attentionto the sensationof beheading them..." Laertia answered as she sprinted into battle to meet the first white blade, Nine going into a frenzy of blade swings herself as battle erupted totally...

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Location: Abraxas' Atmosphere
Objective: Communion
Tag: Tireya Syvare | Luna Terrik

Vytal's black lips curled up into a smile. "Because, Sister, there is no next life for one that willfully and needlessly takes their first. Such a soul would find no ground to sprout in the Nether, and the Source does not return one to the Living as they once were." Those that lingered after death had a reason to do so. A driving need that defined their very existence. With enough time it could become the only thing they recalled; it could consume them, remake them. Someone eager to simply run away from it all... what 'need' would there be? Such a vaguely defined end with no meaningful path to or from it.

"You ask why you should suffer?" The Pale Witch's smile had long passed. Her hand gestured to the host of spirits that surrounded them. "Gaze upon the Many, Sister. Find the one that reflects what you wish to be in death. And tell me if it is the twisted, huddled mass that haunts others as it once felt haunted. I offer you a chance to learn how to find power over the terror that grips your soul. To place your fate back in your own hands so that you define a more powerful future for yourself -- in this life and the next. Is that not worth toiling but a little longer, for an eternity of peace?"

As the Nightmother watched and awaited the woman's response, she turned and gestured toward the spirits on her other side. An unspoken command was issued to send several ghastly figures away. Tireya was in need of Vytal's help, but the Witch could not forget the needs of those below. Naturally, the Dauntless were the least apt to witness specters from beyond the Veil; but that did not mean they could not be shown the way by such beings. Toppled material to form an obstacle, something knocked over to draw attention to a place, an unnerving tickle to distract an adversary, or an unexplained short circuit in something electronic... there were many ways spirits could communicate with the Living. Most wrote such occurrences off as luck or a statistical aberration.

 

[Darth Metus]

BYOO
Tag: Rann Thress

“I humbly and graciously accept whatever assistance is offered, Father.”

Good. And so the tutelage would begin. The flickering light upon the man's shoulder would continue to shimmer. Yet, as Rann suspected, its existence was reserved for the Son alone. The fowls of the air nor the beasts of the land would never suspect its presence. Its words and truths were for the young man alone.

Darth Metus awaited, patiently, the thoughts of his son. And, much to his pleasure, Rann understood far more than he let on. Perhaps he did not realize how close to the truth he was. And so, the Sire clarified.

You understand so much. More than I when I was your age.

You are correct about Darth. It is an open challenge to all creation. To bear the mantle Darth is to bear your fangs at the Galaxy. To welcome its challenge. To believe you will succeed in answering.

As for Sith...

Jedi shun what it means to be Human. Emotion. Bonds. Grief. They repress the natural facets of Humanity. They bathe in temperance and the Light.

Sith is the complete opposite. To be Sith is to fully embrace what it means to be Human. To reconcile all pieces of ones self - to embrace passion, freedom, and through it? Power.

My guidance is thus, oh son of mine.

You are Fractured. A mirror cracked in two. The world sees one face, but I am father to two. Just as there was Isley Verd and Darth Metus, quarreling for control, now there is Rann and -

The following words were a jumble of ancient Sith. Deliberately uttered. Rann would know his true name when he had earned the understanding.

There can only be one, son of mine. You must reconcile yourself. Only then can you truly earn the mantle you seek. For remaining fractured is weakness - and the Galaxy will rip apart your challenge should it remain.​

 

[Tireya Syvare]

Location: Abraxas' Atmosphere
Tag: Vytal Noctura ​

Tireya’s grip on the pommel of her blade tightened as the Nightmother spoke, the tip of its blade now pressing against her throat. Any more pressure on the surface would likely begin to cut into the soft tissue upon which it lay. As she understood it, this woman’s words came across in riddles beyond what she believed herself capable of comprehending, but it was in that moment that Valyra spoke to her, just barely breaking through the torrent of emotions and uncertainties swirling from within, threatening to erupt in a single brash decision.

“Listen to the words she speaks, child,” Valyra’s voice was of a soft, motherly tone, unbefitting of her usual demeanor. But for now it only seemed appropriate. As she saw it, Tireya was in dire need of some kind of comfort and stability. A nurturing force which she didn’t know if she could truly pull off or not. “She speaks a truth. An end in this means is a permanent one. There is no coming back. No next life.”

Valyra’s voice fell silent as Tireya forced her own mind to speak in recant. “To not become you? To not syphon the sanity from another for the rest of eternity?” It was a challenge from the young witch in the making and there was a tremendous pain that bellowed forth with the words. “Does not seem so bad to me. No longer to endure the torment in this life nor subject myself to its prudence in the next?” A shrewd and off-putting grin carved its way now across her face and the edge of the blade placed slightly harder against the skin upon which it rested. Blood now trickled down the blade. Slow. Methodical. It painted its crimson path through that sea of luminous blue.

The spirit of Valyra squirmed within the young witch. The utter terror at the direction the events were heading all too easy to be felt from within. “Tireya!” Valyra’s voice within shrieked in horror. “This isn’t the path you want. You won’t wake up tomorrow and be able to recall to this moment. You will simply cease. And our soul will be sent away. Not to the place where this woman has spoken of. No, my dear. Something much , much more grim. If you cannot stomach this life, then you will certainly not be able to champion the plains of Chaos.”

“All of your talk of a life after this,” Tireya’s words were spoken aloud now, though they were aimed to both the spirit that vexed her from within and the Nightmother that stood before her. “You really believe it to be tranquil and serene?” Tireya scoffed as she fell deeper and deeper into her psychotic state of being. “It is but a cursed existence. A slave in this life to those that have moved into the next. While those in the next are a slave to those in this one.” The blade turned away from her neck now and hung gingerly by her side, though there appeared an unbridled malice in her eyes.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Location: Abraxas' Atmosphere
Objective: Convince Tireya
Tag: Tireya Syvare

"Sister," Vytal slowly began to walk out from behind the altar between them. She extended a hand out toward the woman after she'd cleared the obstacle. "I offer myself to you so this is not your fate. You need not suffer in this life or the next. Nightsisters do not forsake fellow Sisters to carry their burdens alone. Let me help you, Tireya."

It would be best if Tireya came to her, but if she lingered too long and did not show signs she would strike, the Nightmother would slowly move toward the other Witch. Words alone -- even promises -- were not sufficient it seemed. Vytal would offer to embrace the other woman and let her feel the physical manifestation of what had been said. There was no need for Tireya to endure her pain alone. No reason they could not overcome it together.

"We will find a way to separate your soul from the one that clings to it. You will once again live the life you choose, and the strength of spirit to define that of the next life." In what manner and how quickly were matters that they would need to determine. Nevertheless, there were always possibilities. But only if the other woman saw them. Possession was not easily undone if both parties were unwilling, and convincing Valyra to relinquish her grasp would be quite the ordeal indeed. It seemed difficult enough to have Tireya recognize Vytal sought to offer her the peace she sought.

Off to one side a pocket of spirits faded away to be replaced by a group of humanoid specters. It was difficult to make out the genders of all present, but many were lithe and adorned in robes or wraps. Black tattoos marked their faces, and the green flame of the Nether burned in their eyes. Shadow seemed to rise from their forms as smoke would a blaze.

"For I do not walk this path alone. It is the strength of my Sisters that carries me forward until the day I join them again, and they are slaves to no one."

 

[Echo Vesulos]

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

Echo’s head shifted slighted to the side as she listened to the bird’s words. A bird who seemed to have sustained injuries of her own and yet decided to work on its own as it broke away from the trio in an attempt to work alone. If anything, The white haired woman had the better odds at this point. She didn’t sustain any injuries upon landing, but the one thing that did not work in her favour was her unstable connection with the force. After being broken, the path of light had also shattered and the path that did open was not a familiar one. A dark path that bled into every action that she currently took. The Miraluka channeled the dark forces and they whispered to her, yet even the whispers agreed with the bird. It would be quicker to create one; she just didn’t think that it was wise to separate and go their own way, at least not while two out of three were injured. However, if the bird did get kidnapped or killed, Echo wouldn’t lose sleep over it.

Was it cold? Perhaps, but it was the bird’s fault for not learning its limitations. If death befell it, then she would shed no tears for someone or thing that she knew nothing about.

With that thought in mind, the woman shifted her force sight back to the one who was seated upon the ground in what appeared to be a meditative state. Something which Echo hadn’t done since her hold upon the light had been shattered. Perhaps meditation would help to bring the whispering voices into a better focus and help to maintain a better control upon the ever expanding well of hatred that was buried within her small body. It was a poison that had been injected into her system the moment that she had felt the blade of betrayal run her through from back to chest. That scene was consistently on replay as she tried to ascertain the small details of where it all went wrong. What detail had she missed? Why had that person felt the need to try and kill her? In any case, now was not the time to reflect as the other Miraluka seemed to come out of their meditative state.

The woman hesitated for a brief moment before Echo reached out a black gloved hand towards the one upon the ground. She saw through the force, the edges of her lips curve just a little into a smile before she accepted the offered hand. Then, the muscles within Echo’s arm tensed with the effort as she helped to pull Xobos up from the ground; all the while, she listened to the words spoken. A way in? She questioned it for surely it wouldn’t be that simple. A man who was a cult leader leaving behind a door for his enemies to get in? Such a notion made her want to reach out through the force herself, but the other was already on the move. So, she quietly followed behind for the moment. If such an adventure panned out then they would be one step closer.

Upon approach of the door, it would appear that there was no way through and although Echo was about to suggest the usage of electricity to fry the locking mechanism, Xobos had already retrieved their lightsaber and began to cut through it. Although longer, it would be much quicker with the two of them working together. So the white haired Miraluka was already in the process of retrieving her own lightsaber before the other had even suggested it. “You go clockwise and I’ll go counter, we will meet in the middle.” She said as her blade sank through and began to cut through the metal that held the door closed.

 

[The High Court of Illyria]

Tags: Xobos Yakieer | Caelyn Malkavian | Echo Vesulos | Alida Ember | Acantha Malvern
Location: Sith Facility
POV: Vane

He watched them. Like rats following the scent of cheese or rancid fruit.

Force how they disgusted him. They dared to wield those blades with such abandon for the history, the tradition behind them. They were not Sith, they were not the of the old blood as he was. It was his right to wield the Force, as dictated by his lord and Master, Valkorion. In time, the ancient master would return and all of the Sith Pretenders would bow the knee as they did in the past.

"Yes...the Final Empire will be born..." Vane breathed in eager anticipation, his crimson eyes fastened on the security cameras before him. He chuckled madly to himself as he completed his words. "....born from the blood of the pretenders and the traitors. His will be done."

Vane's attention returned to the problem at hand. He set down the blaster he'd been holding while his hands flew over the terminal. There was no time to escape, only time to destroy. He must destroy all that the Order had gathered in this facility. Every piece of information, every bit of knowledge. They must not fall into the hands of the false Sith. He breathed, tapping a single button that caused all of the screens to go red as they began a data purge. He took hold of a single device, a small cube with a tiny crystal in the center of it. An off-shot of a Holocron intended to store data, it was all that remained of the Order's studies.

Vane swallowed the cube. It went down rough and course, causing him to go into a coughing fit before he wearily looked to the path down the hall. There was one shuttle on the other side of the complex and only one.

His hand slammed into a button in the center of the panel.

"Self-destruction initiated. Ten minutes remain until final detonation." A recorded voice spoke out from the speakers. As Xobos Yakieer and Echo Vesulos breached the exterior wall, they would hear the voice echo through out the dark halls they had stepped into. That was not all they heard, as soon Vane spoke into the intercom hooked into his comm device.

"CHASE ME YOU RATS, IT MEANS NOTHING. THIS FACILITY WILL BE YOUR GRAVE!" ​

He yelled with a mad cackle, before going into a coughing fit.

 

[G 3 M 1 N 1]

TAG: Verin Oldo | Anashla Deshal | Aleksandr Kerensky | G 3 M 1 N 1 | Domino Dubose

Rig: F-22 Star Raptor x2
- 3 Concussion Missiles, 4 M2 Heavy guns (2 on pilons), 1 backup light rapid fire Ion laser cannon
Equipment: - Repeating Blaster Cannon - S-66 Scorpio- L 86 - Pisces- T 91 - Taurus - G3M1N1 Chassis
Location: Asteroid Field
Allies: Ji-Ji
Objective: Scout / Engage

Gem would have to make a hard turn, darting back towards the shadow of the Hope, making a pseudo crash landing attempt as she and Jiji behind her would swing into the bays of the capitol class star destroyer. Though no sooner than she bought her ship around, the flurry of gunfire would begin, long range batteries firing into the cloud of the asteroid field, tearing it apart as it would target the two star destroyers as well as the station that they were protecting. Then, as the crescendo of the event dawned a singular massive blast would be let loose on the ships, crashing into one of the flanking ships' sides causing it to detonate in a spectacular fashion. Gem was stunned by the show or raw power as the station would return fire. Hundreds of guns firing up the trail that the star destroyer had left, while the station was not as nimble as the Hope, nor did it hold the super-weapon like power the hope seemed to wrangle from the depths of chaos... it made up for it in sheer number.

A return volley would almost brighten the depths of space from the broadside of the Station, not particularly accurate, but a swarm of blasts which would dazzle the eyes and even hazard the dog-fighting craft in between them as several blasts in the swarm would intend to sweep the sector clean of the CIS menace to their position. While the shots may not be able to penetrate the shields of the Hope yet, they would be putting an increasing amount of pressure on the broadside of the ship if it wanted to keep its big guns facing towards it, its much larger profile had better be ready to soak the return it was going to get.

When the brilliant lights lit up like the birth of the big bang, cascading radiant creation upon them in a shower of newly formed stars, Gem would open her eyes wide in the horror of the magnitude of the long ranged assault before pulling her F-22 raptor into the repair bay in the space that had been cleared for her. Landing hard with Jiji not far behind who would begin to immediately work on Repairs, while Violet Leader would leap from her ship heavy blaster lugged over her shoulder as she would stalk for the boarding ships that seemed to be just on the brink of leaving. Casting off her helmet and throwing it from where she had come from so that she may rely on her own mechanics, scanning the weapons they were taking, breaching charges, missiles, heavy munitions. It looked like these commandos were ready for a hell of a fight. She needed to be part of that crew, but hostility was G3's job, Gems part was done, and so she faded back into the recesses of her mind allowing G3 to take the reigns.

Just as one of the ships was lifting off, G3 would take a running step, leaping to the side and top of another aircraft before vaulting herself almost twenty feet to land in the bay of the boarding craft before the blast doors were being shut. Turning to the commandos and informing them, more than requesting. "I am Violet Leader; designation Gee Three Em One En One, I request to contribute with this mission. I am trained in CIS combat strategies and am optimized for high speed hammer and anvil flanking tactics" Her small rant would end, the ship in motion as it would look to flying out ahead.

It was time for a pitched space battle to have its lines redrawn, its scale shrunk and the story of the crime syndicate in this area to come to an end. Gem had waited for this for some time, it was just a shame that her friend Vulpesen was not here to undertake this with her, she had begun some of their story with him, and now as this chapter seemed to be bringing things to an end, she almost felt, forlorn at the nearing of a conclusion. Jiji, and she would have their just desserts.

As the ships leaving the port faced their biggest challenge yet, figuring a way to veritably swim upstream down a river of blaster fire without getting wet...

 

[Acantha Malvern]

B Y O O
The High Court of Illyria | Xobos Yakieer | Echo Vesulos ​

Had she not attempted to find them a way in while they were gathering themselves after their landing? Perhaps they saw it in a different light because both the Miraluka walked in a different direction than Acantha had, and neither acknowledged her attempt to shift the camouflage painted to the walls.​

​

Father said I could not eat them. Acantha repeated to herself. Father said I could not eat them. It was like a mantra, like the very code instilled into her every bone. It kept the dark desire to silence her hunger at bay.​

​

Slowly, she walked toward the bright flickering colour emitted by the tainted one’s lightsaber. What was the point in working with people who were broken. They would serve no purpose other than to slow her down. One who’s mind was plagued with dark and demented demons. And the other, who’s connection to the dark side was so weak and broken that looking at her was like peering into a shattered mirror. Pathetic, and an insult. They were almost not worth the effort it would take to consume them.​

​

Still, if she absolutely had to work with them, then she would. They would do nicely as bait for whatever awaited them beyond the thick metal walls.​

​

Folding her arms across her chest, she watched as they dug their blades painstakingly through every inch. It was agonizingly slow, and an incredible waste of time. They could have easily combined their ability in the force to rip a hole in the thing once their lightsabers had made enough of cut to give them purchase, but no. All the way through it was.​

​

The chunk of wall fell to the ground with a heavy thud, causing a torrent of dust and metal shrapnel to puff into the air. Self-destruction initiated. Acantha scrunched her face up, unimpressed with what the flat, robotic voice was saying. Ten minutes was not a very long time. With one ankle less than she should have, crazy blind woman was likely going to prove a hindrance, and with half a connection to the force, the broken blind woman was of little use. If they had the time, she could fix one of those at the very least, but as it was…​

​

“CHASE ME YOU RATS.”​

​

Acantha’s face fell further. It seemed Vane was confused. In the game of cat and mouse, Acantha was never the mouse. If he thought he was safe, he was sorely mistaken.​

​

She could feel him even now. Feel the fear as it ebbed from him in waves, smell the sweat as it trickled down the back of his neck, hear his heartbeat as it sped wildly in his decrepit chest. It only served to reignite the spark of hunger that remained forever aglow in the pit of her stomach. The first thing she did was cloak herself, in the very shadow she was born from. This Vane was powerful in the force, and she did not wish to alert him of her presence one she stepped beyond the threshold of their makeshift door.​

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“Well.” Acantha spoke through slightly gritted teeth in an eerily sweet tone to both Miraluka. She rose her badly repaired arm with a flourish to couple with her words. It sent a sharp wave of pain radiating upward from her wrist to her shoulder, but it only served to strengthen her connection to the dark side. Her intense sea-blue gaze shifted from one Miraluka to the other. “After you.”​

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