The Republic Counter-Invasion of Prakith [Republic vs. One Sith]

[Reverance]

Location: Starport
Objective: Objective 1
Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Vrag"], [member="Darth Venefica"], [member="Darth Adekos"], [member="Warok the Defiler"], [member="Khallesh"], [member="Darth Valtryx"], [member="Darth Praelior"]
Enemies: [member="Sanya Val Lerium"], [member="Catherine Soja"], [member="Kian Karr"], [member="Gherron Vael"], @Alexandra Lianna Feanor, [member="Vulpesen"], [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] [claimed], [member="Caaithiel Deschart"]
Theme:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fTxOTOBZ9Uo​

​

Filtered cigarra hung limply from parted lips as the reflection of a screen cast a hue of blue against a humans face, spectacles gave a shimmer of the screen in polarized view. He steadily clicked away on the keyboard, his job to counter any sort of attacks on the software of the defenses. Of course, he wasn't alone, but he was the eyes and ears for a group currently gambling at circular table, underestimating the technical efforts of those assailing the planet. Hardwired and transfixed, he smiled as he stared upon the firewall and bandwidth activity, seeing that the passcode had been changed recently to a more secure format. The activity dropped off suddenly as he shook his head and laughed. Next time, he might allow a bit more access for those trying to crack in. Give them a bit of a jump before cutting them off, maybe get a chance to figure out their location and fix turret fire upon them. After all, Prakith was a dangerous place to live in...both inside and outside the shield.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

​

The Sith Lord approached the shield, cloaked in the force both visually and through his aura, as he entered the code and sent sequence back to command module. Of course, this was a heavily encrypted system along One Sith Channels, defenses kept in place to maintain the sort of security demanded of by such an organization. As he did that, the particle shield dropped for just a second, as he stepped through, the beam re-surging with power. Of course, to those outwardly looking in, this would appear like nothing more than a simple reaction of the shield from the numerous blasts by Sanya and her mountain tanks. He kept correspondence with the group back in the facility, further encrypting his location beacon and being kept up to date with the power and status. He began his trek, moving through the hills in a fast sprint, towards the crashed location of a XJ-9, as he searched out for a presence that drew some sense of familiarity [[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]]. In mere moments, he would be upon it and capable of discerning the identity within, or so he assumed.

Back in the spaceport, the power systems flickered once more as strikes against the shield pulsated the power systems with surges in energy. The screens flickered from the insurgence of energy draw as personnel rerouted power to the generators, the positive feedback geothermal pumps supplementing the energy. The crackpot team continued to work on their network defenses as the turrets continued to fire upon moving objects in the mountain. The AA-fire steadily decreased, but continued with a slow and steady rhythm. The Vong inside and out itched for the conflict at hand, gripping weapons and shields in hand. Inside the spaceport, they prepared for the notion of destroying anyone necessary to protect the blasphemous structure they now resided. If it weren't for the constant supply of war and blood provided by the One Sith, the Vong would likely be inclined to move upon this facility in their own destructiveness. Instead, they turned distrusting eyes towards all within, entirely suspicious and weary and wary and ready.


Forces:

Spoiler

-Controls for defenses, as well as controls for shielding, are inside the spaceport. Anti-Slicer group deployed within facility, working counter-slicing efforts on turrets and shielding.
-Shields: Recharging at 70%
-750 vong on grounds (kraetos shields on 200) - 500 deployed within spaceport
-Additional platoons capable of orbital drop from the Right Hand (not engaged in fleet combat) or the Conquers Ring (Savan Class Carrier) in orbit

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

LOCATION: Spaceport, Landing Bay 88-N
OBJECTIVE: Damage... i mean take the Spaceport
ALLIES: [member="Vulpesen"] [member="Gherron Vael"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Adekos"]

"Hmm..." She made as slight... disappointed expression as she looked at the man and continued to gather the force around her, matching him level for level but at a stark opposite of allignment. The darker and more twisted and aura he took, the brighter her own got to the point where they probably would have drove a Miralukan crazy watching the two. IT was curious she felt like she knew this man's force signature but she had not seen it in so long that she had no idea who it belonged to. Infact of she had known it was likely she would have given this man such respect it would not make sense for them to be enemies.

The man that stood before her had been the only emperor she would have followed to death as a sith, the one in which she had recieved praise after just joining in her fight with Zaiden, the one that she had watched and saw as a sith in being and was not the warmongerer that the others had been. But now she just saw a masked man who gave no hint at his past nor his name which led her to simply regard him as an enemy and to her that was of all but one thing not knowing her her foe was that she would be risking her life to fight. "Right well... thats boring. Im going to go find praelior, atleast she will be fun." Alex's aura didn't fade, her sabers didn't leave her hands but as she turned she closed her eyes and looked with the force at the area around her.

She didn't trust anyone, Sith, Jedi, or Neutral. So as she started to walk her hands gathered a portion of her force aura and she spoke again. "Oh, and please let the fox brain and Jedi fight the furball alone, its going to make a great training video on how not to fight a beskar clad cannon ball."

 

[Avo]

Location: Fake Citadel
Objective: 2 - Destroy Citadel
Allies: [member="Book"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Preliat Mantis"], [member="Sressechka"],
Foes: [member="Darth Vornskr"], [member="Darth Nephthys"]

NPCs:

Spoiler

Location: Near Breeding Grounds & Fake Citadel

Spoiler

Controller: Scott Finch for main invasion, Lan for Infiltration
Forces:

• Republic Commandos (30: Infiltration) Orders: Assist Lan
• Republic Marines (18,000: Main invasion) Orders: Entrench and fortify FOB; pockets of resistance in Breeding Grounds
• Skocha-class MBTs (297: Main invasion) Orders: Firing at Sith-Vong army at Breeding Grounds.
• R-10 Reliant-class Tanks (500: Main invasion) Orders: Advancing on Breeding Grounds with 4 infantry battalions (2,000 soldiers).

Captain Finch was ecstatic. Republic fighters and bombers had entered Prakith airspace and their presences were made known by the hoots and hollers of infantrymen at the sound of the cavalry's engines. Their squadrons appeared as blips upon the tactical Holoscreen laid out before him and key elements of the divisional staff. Battalion commanders were pacing back and forth, operations personnel were busy typing away at screens to send data readouts to every marine's HUD, and everything was just an organized frenzy of military intelligence and logistical might.

However, his own Forward Operating Base had more pressing matters to attend to. Artillery. It was called the King of Battle for a reason while infantry held the title of Queen. White-blue plasma rocketed over the various crags and terraces of Prakith as the enemy finally came to realize that the Seventh Division's MBT hybrids had been hammering away at them. While the white hot payloads scorched the dusty earth before the compound, those Yuuzhan Vong scouts that had been deployed prior to this barrage began their work of increasing the accuracy with each spent round. While the main rounds hadn't been intended for the compound itself, various makeshift bunkers and temporary watchtowers were splashed with plasma. Marines died here and there, but the wounded ones were fairly lucky to be so close to an aid station. Casualties among the infantry were minimal, but the Skochas were beginning to take a pounding.

The initial barrages had been futile for the One Sith as the heavy shields of the main battle tanks soaked up the blows like a sponge. That came with the benefit of remaining stationary - they didn't have to expend energy to power their repulsorlifts too much so all energy swapped from the proton cannon and the heavy shields. Only one Skocha tank was put fully out of commission by a triad of plasma rounds landing on it one after the other, quickly burning through the shields and striking the hopper for the proton cannon's shells. The thing exploded and sent fragments about the artillery lines, but about two dozen more tanks had been damaged in the recurring barrages. While the enemy's long-range capabilities ranked far less, having more targets for them happened to be a pitfall for the Republic.

"Focus your fire on the enemy heavy weaponry. Let what's left of our boys handle the infantry." Scott's pursed lips bore mourning for the dedicated and loyal men, but it was war. Hopefully some of them were still alive in those higher slopes - with a possibility of them spotting for the artillery. He stepped outside of the command operations center to shoot a glance backwards and to the right at the indirect fire lanes. Those Skochas were going to be needing refueling and repair fairly soon. Having so many of them was a logistical nightmare, but Captain Finch's supplies were more than adequate and intel reports even told of a smaller base being erected nearby. He stepped back inside, "Boyd, get those Reliants moving. I want them and four more battalions advancing on that hellhole of a pit now."

The officer nodded in reply, relaying the orders instantly as Finch returned to watching a feed of Lan Graendal once again. A good, balanced, and knowledgeable commander needed to be able to see the bigger picture and this Breeding pit wasn't one of their objectives. The One Sith were stalling him and he'd already paid for that mistake in blood, so Lan needed to get his boys to secure intelligence documents and take out strategic defenses before the ground pounders swooped in.

The divisional commander plopped down into a chair with a sigh, watching as Lan quickly dispatched several Stormtroopers with near-absolute silence. The Jedi Master's green blade swung with ferocity and passion that only one attuned to the Force knew. Scott never understood Jedi nor their steadfast determination to seek peace, hope, and order with every step they took. Whatever side they were on, he knew that he would follow Lan and his comrades until the day he died. They knew what they were fighting for, they knew the stakes, and the knew that the rest of the galaxy had it out for them no matter what they did.

He refocused back onto the screen, displaying the green-clad master jabbing a finger at two passageways. Down each one went commando teams, and judging by the comlink readouts, they were to be taking out the automated defense systems and the shield generator of the Citadel. The remaining ten or so commandos accompanied him down the center passage that led deeper and deeper into that stone construct of death and vileness. "May the Force be with you," Scott murmured.

 

[Caulder Dune]

LOCATION: Spaceport, Landing Bay 88-N
OBJECTIVE: Defend the Spaceport
ALLIES: @Warok the Defiler | [member="Darth Valtryx"]
ENEMIES: [member="Vulpesen"] | [member="Alexandra Lianne Feanor"] | [member="Gherron Vael"]

In hindsight, it would have been obvious to Alexandra, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Her present perceptions, it would seem, were much less.

Lightsabers were not silent weapons. There was no crystal in the wide galaxy that enabled a lightsaber to retracted without the usual hissing noise. Especially not Darth Adekos' Qixoni crystal, unique properties of which enabled his usage of the Force to extend into greater power. Yet for all that power, his mouth hadn't even synced up with the words he had been spouting. There was no explanation for a silent lightsaber and neither was there for a man who's lips distinctly outpaced the words they were producing. The most profound thing about the whole deal was possibly the fact that Darth Adekos had been flickering and standing there with little to no stability. Was it truly possible for a person to be so deeply entrenched in the Dark Side of the Force that they started to vibrate out of reality itself?

Or was there a better explanation for all this? Like a really, really amateurish Force Illusion.

By the time the oh-so-wizened Silver Master had opened her mouth to say "Right well... That's boring," it was already too late. The shoddily projected illusion blinked out of sight. The actual Darth Adekos had taken that precious amount of time to move from his former spot and take up a position on Feanor's right flank. When the illusion vanished, he re-appeared within the same instant, but the Umbaran offered her no time to process this new information. Both hands were outstretched, already spewing an ungodly amount of Force Lightning. The malevolent cyan tendrils of energy shot through the air in an attempt to completely incapacitate Feanor before she could put her guard up. It was a veritable storm, and would probably catch some of the nearby combatants if they weren't careful.

The Umbaran had energy to burn. He would keep up this barrage until he was sure she was either dead or unconscious, provided it did indeed catch her. Adekos muttered something, though it was drowned out under the tumultuous noise caused by the Dark Side electricity.

"Idiot."

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

LOCATION: Spaceport, Landing Bay 88-N
OBJECTIVE: Damage... i mean take the Spaceport
ALLIES: [member="Vulpesen"] [member="Gherron Vael"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Adekos"]

Unmeasurable pain envelopped her side as he appeared to her right, her eyes and hands moving as fast as the could but not fast enough as her sabers sprung from their casings. That is when the force of the lightning blasted her off her feet and lanced throught her cloak and at her arm as she screamed out and her aura shifted immensely as she turned her body while falling and let the rest of the lightning cascade on the sabers themselves.

Behind her mask there was nothing but pain and she took ever fiber of her being not to let Hel appear as she suppressed the dark spirit that resided in her. 'Hel, stay down, we need to work together...' The demon of a creation muttered to itself but agreed silently in her head as she could barely move her body at the moment. Infact her right arm had continued to absorb some of the lightning after she had gotten it onto her blades and now stood slowly as she was barely there as it was. "I won't lose..." She breathed in and her eyes hardened as she now pulled in her own force energies.

Her body itself began to shake as she pushed the force into her body to keep it moving as she didn't have the moment to heal the damage to her arm, relying on her connection to keep her body active and even in a state where she was more on the defensive or not. But she needed help and with a quick message she sent a world call for aid to the fox brained fool not thirty meters at most as she continued to try and hold the lightning. The message would be through something unique and nigh impossible to intercept as it wasn't through the force but rather through Ashlan bond. "Vulps, Help..."

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

LOCATION: Spaceport
OBJECTIVE: 1, Defend Spaceport
ALLIES: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Trenchcoat Man"]
ENEMIES: [member="Kian Karr"] (Claimed) | [member="Ayden Quell"] | [member="Catherine Soja"] | @Republic

Contrary to what might be popular belief, Matsu liked to have fun. She was capable of a little joke. She even liked being social from time to time. The straight and narrow "be angry at everything all the time and when you're not angry be sad or violently indifferent about something" schpeal people foisted upon the image of Sith didn't work for her. Hers was a twisted idea of fun, and she was more familiar with ugly things like rage and revenge and bloodlust than anyone should be, but surely those proclivities didn't prohibit her a smile did they?

Her connections to the One Sith were tenuous, held together mostly by a thirst for action and a connection to one of its Hands, but still – for those reasons she would fight for them when the opportunity arose. Truth be told she was surprised to see him here – she hadn’t pegged him for the kind of guy who stuck his neck out for things that didn’t matter directly to him. But then again she didn’t know him all that well. And she’d seen what he could do, but the woman she had yet to come up with a fitting nickname for was waiting, full of smart little comments. “My dance card is almost full, but you know you’re more than welcome to join if you want.” (Casual. Like discussing a waltz instead of a squaring off that would leave Prakith stained in accordance with its heritage – Jackson Pollock, streaks of red and clotting black, death from the stroke of a movement.)

Turning to face Vrag she let her expression fold in to something half exasperated and half amused at the comment about riding on her shoulders, falling in to a fast pace next to her as they headed towards Gabriel’s Vong horde. “My valiant steed,” she retorted to the Knight, tongue-in-cheek as they joined the main gathering. The Jedi had landed, were closing in – what kind of hosts would they be if they weren’t prepared to greet them?

 

[Trenchcoat Man]

LOCATION: Prak City Spaceport
OBJECTIVE: ?
ALLIES: Himself (Maybe [member="Matsu Xiangu"])
ENEMIES: You

“You’re being charming,” he grinned at her, his eyes looking out from behind a worn, ill-fitting mask.

Matsu had her mates. It was good to have family, Benedict supposed….though he’d seen all of his either dead or estranged. It didn’t matter. He was more of a loner anyway…

…Suppose that’s why he kept them about as an entourage of ghosts, then, right?

“But...you go on, luv. I don’t reckon they’d find me much fun, yeah.”

For a moment, he considered kissing her, his intentions having never been gentlemanly from the get-go. In the end, however, he felt it better to remain a shadow; some weird inkblot in the margin of her history’s pages.

An alternate timeline…

The Shatterpoint spiderwebbed like concrete under a sledgehammer, light peering from beneath the cracks in Blues? Purples?

There was a certain finality to it, as his hand raised lightly from her shoulder in a half-assed wave farewell and he stepped away from Matsu, watching her briefly before spinning around and heading down the hall. Always too Spunk as eff to support the War or the Troops, he wasn't in a hurry to get anywhere in this inevitable mess.

 

[Valerie Vizsla]

Location: Objective Two - The Real Citadel
Objective: Defend the citadel
Allies: [member="Sena Lassiter"] [member="Darth Carach"] [member="The Hound"] [member="Jannik Morlandt"] [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Darth Vornskr"]
Proximity: [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Jaxton Ravos"] [member="Quinn Vos"] [member="SV-421"]
Directly Engaging: Who Wants To Be Eaten?

A deep rumbling shook the earth.

The shifting of stone, the falling of sands, the cracking of rock and granite. It shook the very foundations of the Citadel, of Prakith itself. The rumblings of explosions, of walkers, of tanks rolling across the surface. The sounds of war shook Prakith, the sounds and vibrations took to the earth and traveled through the catacombs, surging through the very planet itself and threatening to consume it.

Most were deaf to these sounds.

Most would not listen to the rumblings of the earth, to the changing nature, to the tides that shifted through the grounds.

But some did.

Some were intimately in tune with them. Some took to them as they did to sight or smell. Some could read the earth like they could read a book. There weren't many that could, there weren't many that would even bother, but there was one beneath the Citadel that did.

One who had hidden himself away.

As the sounds of war shook Prakith, as tanks and walkers pressed into the surface of the One Sith's Throneworld and soldiers began to lap against its grounds something stirred deep beneath the earth. Something familiar to those of the One Sith, something familiar to some within the Republic. It moved within the darkness, trundling through age old tunnels and carving new ones.

It journeyed home, awoken from a deep slumber by the sounds of war, bright yellow eyes burning with Hunger.

 

[Jannik Morlandt]

Location: Objective Two - The Real Citadel
Objective: ...
Allies: What an interesting question...
Enemies: Wouldn't you like to know...
Proximity: [member="Darth Isolda"] | [member="Darth Nephthys"] | [member="Darth Shara"] | [member="Darth Carach"] | [member="The Hound"] | [member="Sena Lassiter"] | [member="Quinn Vos"] | [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Jaxton Ravos"]
Music: Right Behind You

The outer wall was traced with an almost lackadaisical touch as the seer walked alongside it, coming for the entrance. The depth of the Dark in this place hardly seemed to affect him, the sounds of battle inconsequential to his attentions, part of him drawn within less against his will and more for the fulfillment of inevitable encounters, time and time again. The other part? The other part knew what it was doing, knew it all too well. The speed of his procession spoke to a theme of 'as it was before, so it shall be again', and if it was going to happen - what it was, Jan hadn't a single clue...

Watch, listen, and learn, boy.

The voice that felt as if he were 'talking' to himself, when it sounded in his psyche effected the feeling of a push against the back of his eyes, a dull pain. He stopped in his tracks, heel of hands pressing into eye sockets, in temporary, ineffective relief of the ache, but felt more compelled to go forward the moment he had ceased to do so. Hands fell to his sides, and one foot in front of the other, he kept on and ignored the hallmarks of what was certainly insanity. Soon enough he came to a door - a set of two, to be exact - but made no move to open it, trepidation coursing through him. One hand then strained to make ingress, a fight to lift it or a fight to keep it from reaching for the door and pushing inward, until something gave and in one swift motion, a sharp, smacking one, the door was pulled open and he slipped inside.

Good.

The door shut with a sharp click. He looked around the lobby - dimly-lit and smothered with darkness, a feel and look not unlike the halls of his stay on Byss - and continued forth, deeper into the Citadel. His senses sprawled out, an exponential expansion with each step taken, outwards and upwards it went. He knew she was here, but what he sought was the specifics of exact location...

Oh and what is this?

"Oh, can it, would ye?" he muttered, to which a lance of pain was sent through his mind in response, causing the seer to fold with a bodily cringe. I could destroy you at my leisure, but tolerating your presence and that ridiculous accent has proven much, much more useful. Do not make me change my mind.

The pain subsided, and vision calmed from blurred to normal. The rebuke coupled with the agony had the seer noticeably more subdued and so he continued on, each step furthering his progress into this place. The 'voice' wasn't wrong - this other, strangely connected presence of blood was much more interesting at the moment. She could wait. He liked making her wait.

Maybe he was going crazy.

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

Location: Meditation Chamber
Objective: Fracture the One Sith
Allies: [member="Quinn Vos"](Maybe) [member="Jannik Morlandt"](Maybe) [member="Ryan Korr"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Darth Carach"] [member="Sena Lassiter"] [member="Darth Shara"] @Whatever other Sith Lord is waiting in the wings

Randial, Jaxton, whatever his name was truly didn't know what was going on. He knew Quinn wanted to kill Isolda and seemed genuine in that desire. He knew she had some connection to this Jedi, otherwise he wouldn't be here of all times. But other then that? His awareness of what was going on was painfully null. Extending his senses he could feel the tide of the Force turning, whether to extinguish a flame or light a forest he couldn't tell. He could feel, or not-feel rather, that a large portion of the men around were Yuuzhan Vong. None of them seemed to care he was there though, which probably meant the White Current was still affecting them. Which Jaxton supposed made sense, as it could fool droid and ship sensors and neither of them really had anything to do with the Force, but it was still comforting to see that in action. As for the rest of the environment, Jaxton could feel the other White Current user coming, and something else too. Something strong, but he had no idea who or what. Not that it mattered. Jaxton had been in some tough fights before, but he had no illusions that they would prepare him for whatever came.

Though Jaxton was good at hiding his emotions, he'd been doing them for quite a while now in the One Sith, he could not help but feel suspicious. Anxious. That perhaps Quinn had laid a double-trap, to ensnare him and the flame-haired Jedi. If that were the case he'd be in deep trouble, but he could probably get the Jedi out at least. Right? Being disguised as a guard to the eyes and ears of everyone in the room aside from one Ryan Korr, and not even knowing that man could see him for what he was Jaxton decided he could spend his downtime doing what he had before the Huntress came with her 'prey'. Meditating on the White Current, immersing himself and putting the final touches on illusions to be made as the battle started. He had meditated upon himself, his other self, his weapons, his style, his use of the Force. Now he imbued in the waiting images reaction. How to react to sabers, amphistaffs, lightning, telekinesis, giving them even more realism. The coming images should be able to at least buy him time. Buy the Jedi time. And hopefully the Huntress too.

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

Location: Inside the Real Citadel
Objective: Kill Isolda
Allies: [member="Jaxton Ravos"] | [member="Jannik Morlandt"] | [member="Quinn Vos"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Isolda"] | [member="Darth Shara"] | [member="Sena Lassiter"] | [member="The Hound"] | [member="Darth Carach"]

They entered the chambers. Ryan's breath caught, heart hammering. Armored Vong on all sides. Women still as statues. And above them all... her. A haze drifted through the room, carrying the smell of spice with it. Ryan's eyelids grew heavy. The words of his beloved rolled through the air, slow and sweet if not for the bitter aftertaste of their meaning. The tightness on Ryan's wrists lessened.

The Jedi Knight drew in a breath, head bowing beneath the weight of darkness and sleep's siren call.

There is only one key difference between those who run the race and win and those who stumble, fail and fall. Those who endure press on. They remember why they draw breath; why they take one more step; why they shut out the screams of agonized lungs and burning sinew. In that moment, in that breath, Ryan Korr, drew in not air, but the memory of why he was here.

Justice, Duty. A sacred promise. The blood of friends... and the love of a woman.

Mental walls closed like blast doors, slamming shut with a finality, restoring the mind to a sacred, hallowed state, an impenetrable fortress.

The flame-haired head rose and looked on Isolda anew with eyes not of gray, but purest white. Sight granted by the Force burned through haze and illusion to send the shadow fleeing, defying the darkness even at the seat of its power.

 

[Gherron Dragovalor]

Location: Spaceport
Objective: Keep a friend from getting deep fried
Allies: [member="Vulpesen"] [member="Alexandra Lianne Feanor"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Adekos"] [member="Warok the Defiler"]

Gherron watched the fighting around him as he went into a daze. So many he'd fought, to protect others. So many people he'd failed. He looked over to Vulpesen, who had taken to batting the ewok in his stead, then over to Alexandra, who was getting barraged by torrents of lighting. Would he ever stop losing? He gripped his lightsaber in his hand, knuckles turning bone white. Yes. He would. Stepping over his friend, he pushed forward, crossing his blade into the stream of lightning, hue eyes locking themselves with that of the Sith's. "You won't be taking her", he said defiantly. He was done losing.

 

[Khallesh]

[SIZE=12pt]LOCATION:[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt] Prak City J7(9) – falling back towards spaceport and [member="Matsu Xiangu"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]OBJECTIVE:[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt] 1, Defend Spaceport[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]ALLIES:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]ENEMIES:[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Khallesh waited in cover as the pair of tanks foolishly navigated the narrow passage between two tall buildings. She knew that down below a pair of Hunters, garbed in Cloaks of Nuun, were watching and waiting for the first tank to pass. A single word echoed from her villip, indicating they were in position. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]She took half a second to glance at the situation below, before vaulting through the window frame. She landed on the hull of the second tank, as a series of blasts across the first tank showed it had come under fire, boxing the second one in. The secondary gun started to swivel towards her, but as it came about her hand whipped out far quicker. Her arachnostaff uncoiled as slashed under the barrel. It’s incredibly sharp edge scythed through the durasteel barrel. Not quite enough to separate it into pieces, but enough that the weapon was now beyond battlefield repair. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Chazrach were now clambering over the tank and had already set fire-jelly across the edges of the door. There was a flash and hot air washed over Khallesh, but she ignored it and pressed on. Another Vong pulled open the hatch and she dropped in. Their screams were remarkably loud in the enclosed metal coffin. [/SIZE]



[SIZE=12pt]“We keep to cover,” Khallesh explained. Watching from a distance as a squadron of tanks floated over the burning remains of their allies, only to find a Rakamat waiting to engage them. “Play it intelligently, keep to cover and hit their armour hard. We have the opportunity to make them wish they had never made land. When the infidel machines are burning hulks, then will come the attack against the soft infantry.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“The Yuuzhan Vong do not retreat,” growled her second in command. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Khallesh turned suddenly to regard him. The Yuuzhan Vong and all their castes were strictly hierarchical and that had sounded too much like a challenge. “I welcome discussion with all my subordinates,” she said politely. “But I expect thought out strategy, not mindless rhetoric.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Now she leaned slightly closed, crouched almost imperceptibly, but enough that he would notice. “However, if you just wish to constantly question my commands?” she hissed, her arachnostaff writhing down her arm, sensing the tension. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“No Subcommander,” came a curt response.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“Quite. I’m moving back towards the shields. We have reports they have breached the spaceport itself and I intend to reinforce when necessary. I have no interest in hiding behind infidel technology when we can be out here fighting in the field, but I will not commit to a tactical blunder,” she asserted. Much had changed since her promotion. Not least the way that certain members of other domains had opened her eyes to new ways of thinking. [/SIZE]

 

[Corvus Raaf]

Location: En-route to The Citadel
Objective : The Citadel
Allies: [member="Book"] | [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Nephthys"]
Theme: We will escape with our lives

‘Conquering myself
Until I see another hurdle approaching
Say we can, say we will
Not just another drop in the ocean

Come to the free for all
With seven tapered knives
Some of them six feet tall
We will escape with our lives.’

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VM6j14DDtGI

Having caught up with Sera and now having been joined by Book, they made their way slowly and carefully to the site of the real Citadel. The more Corvus saw, the more she was sure what ruse the One Sith had pulled. But she’d have to re-check with the Great Holocron when they got back to be sure.

Of course there were two problems with her thought processes to date. Firstly slow wasn’t good enough. They needed to pick the pace up – time was running out. Secondly she was assuming they’d get back at all. Her sister wouldn’t be coming back…

Pushing this thought immediately from her mind, she urged those with her to speed up. No sooner had she done so than scuttling over the rocks came what could only be described as huge crabs. Corvus recognised them as implanters – more Yuuzhan Vong creatures. And there were seven of them.

“Looks like we’re going to have to go through, there’s no time to go around them. And watch those appendages. They’ll tap straight into your nervous system.” She was wearing her Shadow robes and wished now she’d not been too stubborn to wear the armour Kian had recently designed for them. But at least she had more than standard protection.

Corvus held out her right hand and her saber flew to it and ignited with a snap-hiss in one fluid movement. Using Force Push, she managed to knock one back temporarily as a second came straight for her. It’s feathery appendage grazed the armour that protected her ribs before she had a chance to react. This would not do. She had to push all thoughts of her sister out of her head.

Using the fifth Form, she immediately struck back at the creature that had grazed her. In this Form she had to move quickly, it was draining physically otherwise. A broad horizontal, diagonal and then horizontal slash – all one movement – was enough to sever three legs and although not dead, the creature would be unable to engage them unless they got too close.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: In space behind the moon on board the Dauntless (hidden currently)
Objective: C Fight the Republic fleet
Allies: [member="Boan Rein"] [member="Darth Arcis"] [member="Darth Vitium"]
Enemies: [member="Friedrich Stahlmann"] [member="Camellia Swift"] Tålamod Shapochka

Taeli was startled out of her thoughts as her bridge officer came up to her.

"My Lady, Commander Rein has just sent out a signal to spring the trap, shall we proceed?" he asked her.

"Let us begin, Commander," she said, nodding and standing up. "Use the moon's gravitational force to slingshot us around and have us appear amongst the illusions. We will make the Republic think we are the same as the coralskipper illusions. Also, have all weapons and shield systems fully powered. I want to engage them as quickly as possible."

"Excellent suggestion, my Lady," he said snapping a salute.

Taeli smiled as the Dauntless and the Corinth began moving, using the moon's gravity to whip them around behind the Republic fleet. It was almost exactly what the Republic had done to the Sith fleet at Manaan, but this time, they had a clear command structure. For all it would appear, the Republic would think two Dark Blade illusions were appearing behind them and just ignore them. To their most fatal error.

"Eta to arrival?" she asked, watching the streak of lasers now appearing in her viewport.

"One minute, my Lady," her bridge officer said. The rest of the bridge was bustling with activity, yelling reports that all systems were coming online. The one problem with this strategy was that the Republic bombers and fighters had to be fully engaged with the Republic, or they would take significant damage while they dished it out.

One minute later, their ships appeared amongst the coralskippers. "Bringing all systems up and finding firing solutions."

"Time to make them pay for the naval defeat we suffered at Manaan," she said, her voice calm. The dark side was rife here, but she would not allow it to affect her judgments as what might have happened last time. She would be cold and calculating, analyzing every move she could to counter the Republic here.

Summary:
Both Dark Blades (The Dauntless and the Corinth) move from the moon to among the coralskipper illusions that are behind the Republic fleet, so it will appear as though they are just new illusions
Acquiring weapon and firing solutions, will open fire in next post

 

[Vrag]

LOCATION: Prak city spaceport
OBJECTIVE: 1
ALLIES: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Darth Praelior"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Darth Adekos"] | [member="Ronan Dyre"] | [member="Trenchcoat Man"] | [member="Baroness Magrath"] | [member="Freanne"] | [member="Khallesh"] | [member="Warok the Defiler"]
ENEMIES: [member="Kian Karr"] | [member="Catherine Soja"] | [member="Ayden Quell"] | [member="Sanya Val Lerium"] | [member="Gherron Vael"] | [member="Caaithiel Deschart"] | [member="Vulpesen"] | [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] | [member="Alexandra Lianne Feanor"]

Theme.

_______________________________________________​

Her comlink was alive with reports from all over the city, lives taken, lives lost; almost like trading, except without the satisfaction of profit. Forces were moving around the maze that was Prak, little figurines on the board of some obscure strategic game being played by contestants much bigger than themselves. It was a thing she used to hate, knowing that there were things that she couldn't simply break with a strong enough punch. Conversely, living among the Sith actually helped her overcome that constant loathing, for she'd seen what it could do to people, and the image was less than appealing.

Blue eyes met the horde of Vong then, and her ruminations about the nature of existence and futility thereof were pushed to the side by instinct. Vrag flashed a wolfish smile at Iron Maiden before retracting her visor, the transparisteel darkening as it covered her grinning face. Curiously enough, she made for an even more efficient killing machine when her strikes were focused and controlled, instead of being driven by impetuous emotion. The order she hunted with propagated the practice far too much to her liking, for banking on brutality alone to secure a victory was foolish at best.

The hilt of her lightsaber found its way to her waiting palm, a comfortable weight that acted like an extension of her arm whenever the woman chose to exact her will through the use of force. By the looks of things in the hangar bay, such deeds would soon be called for, and the Knight was ready to respond. Open war was such an impractical way to reach a goal, really. Sometimes the firrerreo wished that the Dark Lord wouldn't be quite as bloodthirsty in his endeavors to subdue all known life. Galactic domination was all fine and well with Vrag, really, but a bit of verbal sparring had never hurt anybody, right?

If wishes were horses, love, the woman reminded herself and rolled her shoulders, warming up for a fight that would unavoidably end up engulfing the spaceport. Reverance had apparently gone off in search of something to kill, but the armored Sith was content to wait on the exhausted enemy to try and run head-first through the wall that was Prakith. And in the event that some 'Pub had accidentally devised a more sound strategy than a head-on assault of the fortress world, having a few watchdogs stay behind was always a good idea while the rest of the pack was out hunting.

 

[Arumi Zy]

Location: The Citadel- Breeding Pits
Objective :

• 
  Destroy the Citadel
  
• 
  Survive The Beast
  

Spoiler

Enemies: One Sith

1. 
   Lady Exedō
   
2. 
   Darth Vornskr
   
3. 
   Darth Nephthys
   
4. 
   Darth Isolda
   
5. 
   Harley
   
6. 
   Randial
   
7. 
   Yusan Fenn
   
8. 
   Sena Lassiter
   
9. 
   Khallesh
   
10. 
    The Hound
    

Allies

1. 
   Elizie Adasca - Padawan
   
2. 
   Haytham Kaze - Padawan
   
3. 
   Seraphina Shel'tah - Padawan
   
4. 
   Varus Shatterstar - knight
   
5. 
   Veino Garn - Knight
   
6. 
   Lan Graendal (Claimed by Kaine)
   
7. 
   Corvus Raaf - Master
   
8. 
   Arumi Zy - Master
   
9. 
   Preliat Mantis
   
10. 
    Book - solider
    
11. 
    Vilaz Munin
    

The mighty beast had fallen and thus ended the return of Darth Fidelis, the darkness subsided into the darkest and farthest reaches of the Mandalorians soul. This would not be the last time the ancient personality of Arumi would come out. The future would bring more death and destruction for his alter ego to feed on, to much pain coursed.

Arumi stumbled back a bit, both Firebreathers fell his eyes struggled to remain open and blood ran from the corner of his lip. He fell backwards onto his rump and tried to catch himself, he tried to lift himself but something was a miss. Something screetched at the back of his mind, with blurred vision and broken scarred body the Mandalorian warrior managed to steal a glance to his left. Where once his arm had been was a charred and broken husk of meat and bone that barely extended past his elbow.

The dark side master coughed up a globule of blood and and exhaled deeply. He had done what he could for his allies, his Ori'vod and the Republic that fought against their enemies. He had sacrificed limb and life and one of his beloved Beskad to fell the beast who would turn his allies into cinders.

His eyes began to drift closed, he could hear the sounds of creatures coming. He could feel the heat of mouth and blood as he drifted into the sweet release of unconsciousness. He would sleep now, sleep while the beast feasted on him or he would awake to his brthren working on him. Either way, he was a husk of his former self, a broken and injured man who had given to much for so little gain.

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Location: FOB one kilometer out from the breeding grounds.

Objective: Defend the outpost.

Allies: [member="Lan Graendal"] | [member="Corvus Raaf"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Arumi Zy"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"]

Enemies: [member="Darth Nephthys"] and her allies.




Well this was a damn bloody mess.

Republic forces were engaged down at the breeding grounds or, as Book liked to call it, the hellhole. In truth, he very much wanted to be there, but the FOB needed someone to keep it running. The landing crews weren't much use in a fight, and the defensive droids were useless without someone experienced giving them orders.

He simply couldn't leave.

"FOB established." He reported over the comms.

It was the go to place for the Republic to move its wounded. It was also perfect to refuel the bombers under the command of [member="Haytham Kaze"] whenever they needed such. So long as the makeshift outpost remained, the Republic had a foothold on Prakith.

Book paced back and forth over the rocky outcropping, his rangefinder whirring as it zoomed out to look over the battlefield. The breeding grounds were too far away to provide support via a rifle, but perhaps...

"The tanks should be ready soon." Stanley quipped.

Book breathed a sigh of relief. The Skotcha was an extremely powerful tank. Only a few were available for field use. Book had borrowed two from procurement and had them transported down with the dropships.

The problem was, they had to be out back together before being used. Most of the tanks were intact, but the pieces that controlled the turret had to be taken down separately. The engineers were putting them back together right now.

"Inform the commander of the Republic forces that we'll be ready within the hour."


NPCs

Spoiler

Location: FOB
Objective: Rebuild the Skotcha Tanks.
Amount: Two dozen engineers, two inactive Skotcha Tanks.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Location: En-route to The Citadel
Objective: The Citadel
Allies: [member="Book"] | [member="Corvus Raaf"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Nephthys"]

Music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ukixviy1Wk
___________________________________

There's a strange kinda feeling going on
Whatever goes up has to come down

We always try to push the limits
All it takes to do it is to go for it

Greeting both Book and Corvus as they headed onwards towards their objective she vaulted over a small rock wall and landed gracefully to the right of the Jedi Master. A raised eyebrow and a glance to Corvus would indicate that she had no idea what in the world these massive crab looking creatures were, though there were quite a few of them. She listened to Corvus's hasty instruction before summoning her twin sabers to life. The creatures were quick, agile, and lethal. two of them engaged the master immediatley, though they looked more like they were attempting to subdue her for some strange reason...Perhaps they were predators for another purpose than to kill and consume? Odd.

Three of the crablike creatures came at a near sprintlike speed towards her, while it appeared that the remaining two would try and occupy Book. Engaging the three at once would likely end in a terrible defeat, so she had to use what she was given. With a quick spring of her legs and knees she leaped up with the aide of the Force to jump over the two nearest beasts, before landing behind the two, and adjacent to the third. Immediately the creature turned and attempted a debilitating slash at her collar. Instinctively her body threw herself into an aerial to dodge the swipe, her sabers locked in front of her body in a crossed fashion as she came upright, re-entering her typical Ataru stance and lunging with two crossed slashes across the front of the creeper.

With the two frontal claws dropping to the ground beneath the beast, it backed off for the moment, though the two now in front of her adjusted themselves and were now retrained on the young Jedi Padawan. Taking a couple of steps back Sera looked at the two, following their slight movements to identify which one would strike first. The pair instead struck as a team, their appendages darting out with the assistance of their front claws. There was little she could do to avoid everything entirely, opting instead to defend herself from the appendages by slashing towards each one with her sabers, forcing the beasts to retract their strikes but their frontal claws followed through, making several cuts in either shoulder of the Twi'lek, each one stinging as beads of blood began to slide toward the ground. Schutta.

Sera began to back up a bit more as they continued advancing on her. She waited until they each took one additional step out towards her before allowing herself to be engulfed in the Force, using its aide to quicken her pace as she charged forward and into the pair of creatures, her right saber used to guard her own body as she ran between the two, dragging her saber from end to end of the creeper to her left, ending its miserable existence in retaliation for its own delivered wounds a moment ago.

This left but the one remaining creeper. She performed a backwards handspring and pressed her back against Corvus, her lightsabers held in a defensive manner. "One hell of a welcome huh, master Raaf? I believe these things want something more than to simply kill us, master. They aren't trying to eat us. They want us subdued. But why?"

 

[Isar]

Location: Spaceport, Landing Bay 88-N
Objective: Defend the Spaceport
Allies: [member="Darth Adekos"] | [member="Darth Valtryx"]
Enemies: [member="Vulpesen"] | [member="Gherron Vael"] | [member="Alexandra Lianne Feanor"]

Warok grit tiny teeth as his fist connected with the saber blade, spinning the double-bladed weapon out of his foe's hands and into the air. Even as Warok struck, the enemy spun away, one hand flinging out. Danger tingled along Warok's spine, raising fur in a ridge along his nape. The Ewok's feet had yet to touch the ground. As he still floated through the air, he seized his newly unencumbered chain-whip, one hand holding the handle, the other holding a length of chain toward the front, shortening the total length that spun as he whipped it into a circular blur.

One throwing dagger whisked through before he had the chain spinning and it embedded in shoulder. The other daggers were rebuffed by the length of spinning beskar chain, ricocheting into the air.

Warok landed in a tumble, rolling once and coming to his feet. He kept the chain whirring, devoted to its song. Blood trickled from the knife, matting brown fur. More an annoyance than a true wound, for though throwing daggers could be deadly if they hit a vital, exposed organ they were light weight and short, often unable to penetrate deep enough to cause more than a mere flesh wound.

Black eyes narrowed at Vulpesen's blameless, armored form. Warok ceased to spin the beskar chain. He gripped it so that each hand held an end, with his right paw grasping the emitter of the light dagger. Then he charged toward Vulpesen, aiming to punch him with his left hand. The same shockwave generator armor-denting force multiplier would occur if the gauntleted punch landed in Vulpesen's armored gut.