Invasion Thou Shall Not Suffer an Empire to Live | AoC invasion of CIS-held Siskeen & Ryloth

[Vytal Noctura]

F A M I LY . I S . M O R E . T H A N . B L O O D

Equipment: Nightmother's Ward Lightsaber; Blood of Dathomir Armor; Pouch of 8x 0.2 oz Water of Life Potions, 3x 1 oz Water of Life Potions, 3x Raxus Relief Gas Patches, 1x Raxus Relief Gas AoE Capsule

CIS Allied: Holt | Beric Layne | Luna Terrik | Ciri Jade | Tess Valnora | The Monster | Prennis Keeoli | Millu Lee | Draconis Sederius Wolf | Srina Talon | Darth Empyrean | Darth Metus | Rann Thress | Shamira Karuto | Effie | Viana Morreth | Julra Repraj | Rylan Kordel | Kat Decoria | Damsy Callat | Lunara Azure
AOC Allied: Thalia Senn | et al
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It would seem a lone person ( Thalia Senn ) took issue with her rallying cry -- not to arms, but to shrug off the unease, the doubt, and the fear of what was to come. The people needed strength of their conviction as a people, not in arms with a blaster. Well, Vytal did not care for the dissenter, or how they could not form an argument to counter what had been said. Anyone could throw (or drop, in this case) a fruit. It took conviction to engage in persuading someone openly.

As the Nightmother slowly descended from the lofty height of the float and returned to the ground, she casually plucked the fruit from her shoulder and dropped it in the street. As Julra Repraj drew near, Vytal drew an inhale followed by an exhale allowed the tension to bleed from the muscles of her body. A slight nod followed her Sister's words. "Good. Our detractors," to put it mildly, "believe us uncaring brutes. They can say whatever they will; our actions with the people of this world speak far louder."

Before she could say more an all too familiar chime sounded in her ear. Vytal gestured for Julra to wait a moment as a brief word came across the encrypted channel from orbit. A dark brow drew lower and pinched together over the bridge of the pale Witch's nose.

"They have begun to mobilize in orbit, and will be tracked. Julra," Vytal's green eyes fixed upon her Sister, the woman that had suffered a great trial in the Nether before her time, "I fear your unique power may be necessary. You must be ready, if I call upon you, to act without thought, and without hesitation." She reached out to take her Sister's hand as their eyes met.

The people of Ryloth, and especially those in this city at this moment, are our primary concern. What are we without them but the hollow thing these faceless cowards claim? But we will need time to save them, and it is something we may not have any longer. Do not speak of it, but you know what I mean. The Nightmother reached out to touch Julra's thoughts for privacy from those still nearby. Even telepathy could not guarantee that privacy, however. Not when the adversary could hold similar power to their own. Nothing was guaranteed, but things in life rarely ever were.

With a nod, Vytal's eyes turned aside to find Shamira Karuto and Viana Morreth in the near distance. Good, they would be needed. As would others.

A tap on her commlink opened a channel in search of the other Sisters whom Vytal counted upon in these trying times. "Sisters and Brothers of the Mandragora, lend your aid in getting all civilians to the designated shelters. Work quickly. Leave no man, woman, child, or other sentient lifeform behind." What they were about to do would be far more effective the more the people were assembled together. There would be fewer casualties. Spirits willing, there would be no casualties.

With a slight adjustment, the Nightmother sought to reach out to a few in particular, such as Alluria Ivalice and Effie, "Sisters, I need you. Ryloth needs you." She provided her location in the city for them to assemble. Even if they could not in time, however, it would not matter. Their plan did not require a particular physical location to take root. Celebratory preparations had aided in that. "Make known any needs of the people, or activity of hostiles within the city to myself or another officer of the Confederacy."

Meanwhile, at the Castle...
Not all of the Mandragora had taken to the bio-dome for the festivities of the day. Their Order was large and worthy of the Castle in which they resided, much as the Knights Obsidian as a whole were worthy of the great wing of the Citadel in which they held on Geonosis. Some continued their studies believing their work too important, others tended the grounds and the beasts of the wild in which they were responsible. Others meditated, brew potions, or contemplated how best to maintain the balance of Life and Death on Ryloth and throughout the Galaxy.

Then there were a few Sisters and Brothers gathered together in the wake of the travesty and controversy that had befallen the planet. The Nightmother was with the people of Ryloth and had yet to return, which they took to mean something required her presence. While she was their leader, they were not any more slaves than the Twi'lek people were, and could tend their own affairs in her absence.

Preparations were made to ensure the security of the Castle, including coordinating with those not of the Spirits among them. Men and women of more militant branches of the Confederacy. They played a role among them, and some even learned their ways. Opportunities to share their knowledge with more than just those of their own Order.

Word was sent to Raven's Point where ever more Sisters and Brothers worked, studied, and held vigil. With the planet under siege once more, it was important to ensure their defenses were strong in case any hostilities broke out nearby.

A few had even been dispatched to ride upon animal and beast alike to the nearby villages to warn them of what was happening. Some might have been spared the adversarial speeches, and as a result might not be prepared or know to reach out for help when or if the time came.

And then there were those at the Altar of Spirits. A handful of Sisters and Brothers ventured there time to time and may be anywhere between the Castle and the ancient shrine. Those at the Castle sought to reach out by technological or magickal means to warn them of potential danger -- though they would have already been on their guard venturing across the Brightlands and into the Nightlands. There were many creatures and environmental hazards of Ryloth, which such sojourning believers of the religious Mandragora braved knowingly. Yet despite their fortitude, they would not suspect a hostile force might attempt to lay siege to any part of the planet in the name of 'liberation;' and so warning was issued.

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Duckie Talon]

Location: Ryloth - Festival - Under the Bright Clouds
Equipment: Claws and a bill - Mighty Weapons

Horror!

Chaos!!

Terror!!!

Brightly coloured clouds of joy, how could you betray like this!

There had been some siren call, that drew the Quacklord on his noble quest to protect the mighty Southern Systems from the menace of worms...wherever that might be.

At least that had been the plan and he really had intended to stick to it. Until he saw the white-haired nice lady. They'd fought together bravely before as Duckie had led his men to an utter and complete victory....although the worms had fled before his powerful military acumen. They knew who was their master. So...he'd decided to follow her instead.

And it had been a good idea, or at least he'd thought so. A sky full of brightly coloured clouds, how could he not waddle around, head tilted back in joy. Until they started exploding in a rain of brightly coloured dust that had sent the duckling telling from one shower to the other. What emerged was a brightly coloured and not very happy Quacklord. This was no doubt an insidious attack perpetrated on his person by those vile worms. When he got a chance he'd punish....what's this?

A light hand patted him, large brown eyes set in a green face peered at the mighty Quacklord and giggled. Giggled...and he quacked back, nuzzling into the small twi'lek child's hand. This was ok, this felt nice.

Then something changed, her hand stiffen leaving the small duckling peering up to see the shock the fear written across her face. Then the scream. It tore from her lips as she stared at a screen. Duckie had no idea what it was that had generated this reaction from her but it wasn't just his new friend. All around him screams of fear and anger reverberated. The joy and fun that had been present only a few moments before were gone.

As was the hand of the child, her mother pulling her away leaving the duckling all alone, and feeling very scared...time to find the nice white lady. She might know what was going on...she might protect him from whatever was scaring everyone...not that the Quacklord needed protecting. He'd protect her...that was it....so he better get back to her fast.

 

[Lesya Kosarev]

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Location: Siskeen Conference​

Wearing: [X] (Minus Hood)​

Allies: Daegon Corvinus | Seraphina Corvinus | Visanj T'shkali | John Locke | Raven Thystle | Corius Harckon​

AoC: Annasari Annasari | Enlil Enlil | @Gabriel Volturii​

Objective: Protect the Exarch​

Equipment: Lesya Kosarevs Plasma Canon (Concealed)​

​

Lesya, as usual, was silent for the majority of the trip to Siskeen in her mind the fact they were on the way to find out why a viceroy desired to leave the confederacy was a politics and she was not worried about that, it would be worked out either Siskeen left or stayed in truth in did not factor into her calculus at all. What stirred her mind was the fact that she would be called on perhaps the first of many times where John Locke , no Exarch Locke would be expecting her to keep watch on his safety. Her own emotions were confused, anxiousness? excitement? worried? doubt? fear? In truth she was not entirely sure what she felt but as always the thoughts and insecurities that plagued her bid her to stay silent.

She was not the only one who had been quiet on the trip to Siskeen the Exarch himself was quiet, something Lesya had come to understand of him in. While she knew him to be a kind mind he was also a thoughtful one, prone to wandering in thought for some time, she was careful to safeguard those moments for him seldom making a sound, she had not been with him for long which is one of the reasons she was surprised when he asked her to be his bodyguard, surely there were more qualified, more talented and less broken then she that could better serve in this role, yet for some reason he had asked her, she often wondered why but in truth she knew already, they were both alike. In some way, she wondered if she could manage the task, both he and Tyrias Aran had faith in her however for whatever reason so she too would have faith in herself. It was a hard thing but she was learning.

After they had arrived in the meeting room Lesya let her eyes fall to every participant in the room, to her it was analytical, simple appraisal there was no malice or bias for her. A cold appraisal for all she did not know even those of the Confederacy. Her own internal systems would catalog and asses the threat potential of everyone in the room, she would naturally observe every egress point, structural weaknesses, assess risk factors for traps, hiding spots and potential hidden weapons all in the span of a few moments based simply on one principal, if it were she trying to kill everyone in the Confederate delegation how would she do it? Her training in this regard as well as programming was superb.

These assessments were hers and hers alone, perhaps the Exarch was capable of accessing her assessments she truly did not know but for everyone else in this room? Hers was a cold detached withering gaze. Politics was not her domain, the security of an Exarch was all that she concerned herself with though at this moment she was not a bodyguard but simply the Exarch’s aide, content to play the role that was required for this moment if it meant a hidden protector where none might suspect. if everyone in this room was a loth wolf in disguise she would liken herself to a krayt dragon, this thought alone amused her enough for a smile to appear on her face for just a moment, at one point a rare site but now more and more common in large part because of her new home.

Her attention was snapped back to the present situation by the Viceroy of Siskeen, Derek Dib as he showed the holovid of the brutal murder of a Twi'lek that went out across the holonet, followed by the Lord Commanders arrival on Siskeen, if either surpised her she showed no sign of it for now she was content to listen and observe.

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

Location: The E'care Shukur | Orbiting Geonosis
Objective: Respond to AoC Presence at Ryloth
Allies: CIS | Tyrias Aran | Luna Terrik | Srina Talon | Darth Metus | The Monster | Kiff Brayde
Enemies: AoC | Twi'lek "Freedom Fighters" | Siskeen Coalition | K Kaine Australis | Madalena Antares | Scherezade deWinter | Dimitri Lindzinsky | Lash | Bella | Strider Garon | Oceiros Sunstrider
Post Count: I

The day ahead of her had looked as though it would be nothing more than an avalanche of paperwork that she would be buried beneath for the foreseeable future. There had been so much that had piled up, between her duties as the Grand Marshal of NAVCOM as well as having founding Von Sorenn Industries in response to a multitude of corporations pulling their presence out of the Confederacy due to the Confederacy First Mandate. With a heavy sigh, she looked over the stack of papers, flimplast sheets, and datapads that were awaiting her on the desk that she sat behind. Leaning back for a moment, she brought one hand up to her forehead, lightly rubbing her temple as she pulled the next stack of papers free from the top of what seemed to be an unending mountain of paperwork.

In the background the world of Geonosis slowly slipped by; though she had gotten better at remaining closer to the Capital world of the Confederacy, she still wasn't used to having an office in Golbah City, and more often than not wasn't ever-present - preferring to remain on the E'care Shukur, able to deploy at a moments notice when required. There were quite a few things that she was still becoming accustomed to that came with the new positions that she now found resting upon her shoulders.

Pulling another set of requisition forms from the seemingly never diminishing mountain of paperwork, a soft chuckle crossed her lips as she looked over the sheets. She never really seemed to realize just how much resources and supplies the Fleet seemed to consume, nor was she about to pull a requisition officer in to question as to why they were asking for a rather large amount of a certain toiletry for their vessel. For now, though it was something that could be held off on, and thus it seemed to end up in the third pile of paperwork, one that she had deemed to be the "essential though not immediately required" pile when it came to requisitions. Even though it seemed like everything was chaotic and there was no order, she had four stacks, everything separated into one of those stacks - though at this point it seemed like they all blended together.

She was just about to come up for air when the door to the office quickly slipped open, an aide marching into the room and stopping short of the desk. Amelia didn't even look up, she merely continued to go over paperwork before she finally rose her head, golden-yellow hues falling upon the young Lieutenant that stood patiently waiting.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am, you need to see this."

The young Lieutenant quickly moved towards a large viewscreen that sat on the opposite wall from the desk tucked away near the larger Transparisteel window. Her attention rose to the screen which flickered on for a moment, showing a rather graining and otherwise dimly lit room, and then it happened.

As the speech came to a close the sword came down. Elav Doneeta looked up his eyes crying for help where his voice couldn’t. His life ended not as the famed author the Confederacy hailed his as being, but as the traitorous infidel, he had become. A trail of crimson followed his head as it fell to the floor. The orbs that adorned her skull hung open, lifeless. His face contorted into one of sheer fear.

With a solid thump, the head met the floor rolling away for its eyes to simply stare up and into the camera.

She quickly rose to her feet, nearly leaping over the desk as she found her way around and moved closer to the large viewscreen.

"When did this happen!?"

Her words were quick, a sharp bit to them as a pair of now brilliant blue eyes fell upon the Lieutenant. Her emotions filled her at that moment and were she linked to the Force, one could have easily sensed the anger that flowed through her. Amelia was impatient, though gave the Lieutenant the time to answer the demand.

"Moments ago Ma'am. It would appear that Ryloth is also under attack. An unknown enemy has proclaimed that we've enslaved the native Twi'lek people and are supporting, for lack of a better term, "Freedom Fighters". We also have unconfirmed reports that the Butcher of Eshan is also present."

A soft growl slipped from her lips as she brought her hand up, lightly chewing on the tip of her thumb while the video replayed on the view screen. It was clear, there was some kind of misguided fools that had decided to strike out at the Confederacy. It seemed some weren't so happy that the Government had decided to look inwards and provide for their own rather than policing the galaxy. Taking a moment to clear her mind, she closed her eyes, followed by taking in a deep breath as she centered herself.

In a few moments, her eyes slowly opened once more, having returned to their usual Golden-Yellow hue that now turned their attention upon the Lieutenant.

"Gather a fleet, whatever is currently ready for deployment. Call up a few of the newer vessels also, this would be a perfect time to test out a handful of the Tho Yor series. Whoever, or whatever has decided to attack Ryloth can not be permitted to get away with such an atrocity."

Her attention shifted back to the video, watching it once more as many others had with it being broadcast across the Holonet. Whoever had acted had shown their hand. They were more than willing to kill an innocent civilian and broadcast it across the known Galaxy via the Holonet while having the audacity to claim that the Confederacy was the monster in the darkness. A soft growl slipped again as she turned away, her attention falling upon the mountainous stack of paperwork.

"Ma'am?"

The Lieutenant turned also towards the desk, noticing the piles of paper, flimplast sheets, and datapads.

"Its nothing. The paperwork can wait until later, for now, we must make our way to Ryloth."

Spoiler: Ame's Fleet

• The E'Care Shukur
  • (16) Squadrons
    • (6) Squadrons - Vulture III Starfighters
    • (6) Squadrons - Crescent II class Starfighters
      • (3) Squadrons w/ Standard Weaponry
      • (1) Squadron w/ Light Ion Cannons
      • (2) Squadrons w/ Concussion Missile Launchers
    • (4) Squadrons - RMS-BC11 Starhammer Superheavy Bombers
• Thoros class Artillery Battlecruiser
  • (1) Squadron - Vulture II Starfighters
• Subjugator II class Star Destroyer
  • (4) Squadrons
    • (2) Squadrons - Vulture III Starfighters
    • (2) Squadrons - Colla class Droid Tri-Fighters
• (2) Providence II class Assault Carrier
  • (16) Squadrons
    • (6) Squadrons - Vulture III Starfighters
    • (6) Squadrons - Colla class Droid Tri-Fighters
    • (4) Squadrons - RMS-BC11 Starhammer Superheavy Bombers
• (2) Tho Yor II class Star Destroyer
  • (1) w/ Baradium Missiles
  • (1) w/ Proton Torpedoes
  • (4) Squadrons
    • (4) Squadrons - Crescent II class Starfighters
      • (2) Squadrons w/ Standard Weaponry
      • (1) Squadron w/ Concussion Missile Launchers
      • (1) Squadron w/ Concussion Missiles Launchers & Proton Torpedo Launchers
• Tho Yor II class Mothership
  • (9) Squadrons
    • (5) Squadrons - Crescent II class Starfighters
      • (3) Squadrons w/ Standard Weaponry
      • (2) Squadrons w/ Light Ion Cannons
    • (4) Squadrons - Kesh II class Modular Transport - Bomber Configuration
• (2) Tho Yor II class Attack Vessel
• (10) Kesh II class Modular Transport - Bomber Configuration
• (2) Accuser Class Corvette

Spoiler: Action Report

• Jumping Fleet to Ryloth

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[Kyyrk]

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P R O T E C T

Spoiler: Music

LOCATION: Olanet Conference
TASK: Defend the Confederates/Understand the Reason of Secession
EQUIPMENT: In Signature
CIS: Daegon Corvinus | Seraphina Corvinus | Visanj T'shkali | John Locke | Raven Thystle | Prennis Keeoli | Corius Harckon
AOC: Annasari | Enlil | Gabriel Volturi

All my blood I shed for thee. All my freedom, I surrender for you. Rest, child. Rest now, and dream of a better place. And pray that I will have the strength to make it so.​

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Voph watched in silence as Dib addressed the assembled people from both the Agents of Chaos, and the Confederacy. Why the Agents of Chaos were here, Voph would never understand. But it filled him with the same dread that followed any threat of combat. The fighting had started on Ryloth. All sources pointed to the Agents. So the question remained: What were they doing here?​

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Was Voph paranoid? Perhaps. But he hadn't lived to be named Dark Councilor of the Sphere of Mysteries by trusting everything around him. Perhaps their intentions truly were noble. But then, given that they had broadcast an execution live on the holonet mere moments after offering eight minutes to decide, he suspected nobility was an obstacle, not a lifestyle.​

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There was a rustling and grumbling as a rather well dressed doorman ( Enlil ) requested that all combatants leave, and all weapons be surrendered. Voph watched the man quietly for a moment, then offered the only response this errand boy would receive from him. His hands moved to his sides, and the twin blades affixed around his waist flew to his hands, which were both then transferred to Voph's main hand. Then, his arm outstretched, and the blades were set upon the table. If security really did require a lack of weaponry, they could collect the items at their leisure. The weapons were quickly claimed by a member of the Siskeen security team, and shuttled away to wherever the weapons were being held. As Voph did this, he claimed a seat at the grand table, turning to look towards Dib.​

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Voph held himself tall and proud, every bit the wartime Commander he was born and bred to be. It was amusing, he found, to think that someone within the room was attempting to leverage the Force against them. An...influence of sorts that hung in the air. But so too did the Force hang about Voph's mantle, hidden though it was under his helmet. The Valor of the Force was strong, and the resolve of those who stood beside him would always be strong. They might recognize the presence of an outside influence, but it would hold no sway over them.​

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The next few minutes saw Voph's blood run cold. On the screen behind Dib, the execution played out. This, Voph did not find troublesome. What did bother him was the image of a ship preparing to launch an orbital strike against Ryloth. "Prenn. Get to cover now. Skyfall." The message was whispered, even within the sealed helmet. Only the recipient heard it. And Voph prayed it would reach her in time. But then Dib turned to the arrival of the Star. And the deployment of the sixteen probes that Voph had initiated upon his arrival.​

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A call was given for the probes to be withdrawn. Voph arched a brow at hearing this. With a subtle click, his helmet's vocal box activated to broadcast Voph's voice to the room at large. "I understand your concern, Master Dib. But as we speak, Ryloth has fallen under attack." Voph lifted his dominant hand to gesture to the large screen behind Derek Dib as he spoke, but returned his arm to his side shortly. "You seek the security of your people. I seek the security of mine." Voph lifted his off-hand to gesture to the delegation that accompanied him. "Battle rages a mere sector adjacent, and we have within this room a number of high profile persons. We are more than willing to hear your concerns and desires. And all I ask is that we be granted some level of assurance that, should the worst come to happen, we are prepared."​

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Voph held up his dominant hand again in a halting gesture. "I suggest recalling eight, cutting their number in half. Data will be shared freely with your people, and any other individuals that may wish access to it. We are not seeking conflict. Just security. Surely there can be some compromise?" Voph's hand lowered in a sweeping gesture to the members of the Agents gathered within. "After all, it is my understanding that these Agents are the ones responsible for the happenings on Ryloth, if not complicit in them."​

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Voph leaned back in his chair. "Regardless of this matter, I will state for the record that my purpose here is to understand the reasons for your movement of independence, as per the terms of the Confederate Inquisition. While my compatriots will be discussing the terms of secession, my focus will be solely upon why you feel secession is necessary for the wellbeing and prosperity of your worlds. Clearly, we have failed you to drive you to this decision. I am deeply saddened by such a declaration, and will be doing everything in my power to ensure that we prevent what may be prevented in the future."​

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[Rayne Centaris]

Location: Ryloth
Allies: Confederacy of Independent Systems
Objective: Founder's March
Wearing: Octarchy Covenant Armor, minus the helmet
Tag: Lunara Azure , Prennis Keeoli

As he leaned back against the bar, softly and somewhat absent-mindedly swirling the lukewarm amber-coloured liquid in his tumbler glass, Dark Master Rayne Centaris looked at the festival outside. While the earlier broadcast hadn't exactly impressed him, it was concerning nonetheless; the woman whom attempted to interrupt the celebrations clearly enjoyed the sound of her own voice and, while her rambling was more of a nuisance than an actual threat because her broadcast happened to interrupt a good song, Rayne could feel how the atmosphere of the party began to shift. People were getting concerned, even scared, and as the atmosphere slowly began to grow darker it took but a glance at Lord Marshal Lunara Azure to confirm that she felt a storm approaching as well.

Downing his drink in one go and grimacing as the beverage burned its way down his throat, Rayne left the now-empty tumbler glass behind on the bar and began to approach Lunara. His intention had been to take the Lord Marshal aside and discuss on what to do next, but before he even reached her a second broadcast interrupted the holonet report about the ongoing celebrations. Holding mid-pace, Rayne turned to look at the nearest holonet display to see the new broadcast of an orange-skinned Twi'lek standing over an abused form which was barely recognisable as Elav Doneeta. It was only a short broadcast, much shorter than the earlier ramblings of that unknown woman, but this broadcast did manage to make an impression; as his immediate surroundings reacted in a combination of pure shock and anger to the senseless violence that had just occurred, Rayne couldn't help but to feel disgusted. As a Sith Lord and former apprentice of Darth Metus he wasn't about to suddenly grow a conscience about killing, but this was senseless murder. Evil without cause or meaning.

Resuming his pace, Rayne approached Lunara in time for her crystal blue eyes to find him. As he listened to her words, the Sith Lord shook his head before answering. "No, this is a different kind of evil." A reassuring smile appeared on Rayne's lips while his voice, carrying a slight accent native to Tatooine, matched his smile with a barely hearable hint of sadness. "Elav Doneeta was killed for nothing, just because that orange Twi'lek wanted to make a statement. That's not even evil, that's desperation." In fact, it was that senseless attempt at evil which was genuinely sad, but also concerning at the same time; desperate people were generally unpredictable, and there would be no way of telling how far they were willing to go just to get their message across.

Almost directly after this broadcast, the voice of the Exarch called out over the radio; directing civilians to seek out safety and security. The atmosphere in their immediate surrounding had already been tense following the first broadcast, and even more so after the second, but as Rayne turned his attention outside he could see how civilians, prompted by local law enforcement, already began to disperse. It was a concerning sight, even more so because the ad-hoc evacuation efforts began to clutter the radio frequency which Rayne was tuned in to. "Lunara, do you think we shou..." The Sith Lord had been about to ask whether they should assist in the evacuation and further add to the clutter on the radio frequency, or if they should leave the evacuation efforts to the local law enforcement with the assistance of the Confederate Defence Forces just so they could stay vigilant for any further threats. He never got to finish his sentence though, as two nearby explosions tore through the sky with a deafening roar.

For a brief moment Rayne kept his gaze locked at Lunara, a combination of shock and worry clearly visible in his blue eyes, before he spun around and quickly made his way outside to see what was going on. Once outside, he could smell the sharp stench of plasma and two columns of thick, black smile were rising into the air nearby; close enough to irritate Rayne's eyes and causing them to tear up almost instantly. What had first been an orderly evacuation now began to turn into a panicked rout as civilians tried to get away, and Rayne quickly backed up into the doorway of the bar to prevent getting caught in what was threatening to turn into a stampede. At this point, the clutter on the radio only increased to a chaotic cacophony of voices all trying to shout over one another, leaving Rayne with little choice but to switch to one of the alternative frequencies reserved for the Confederate Defence Forces.

Turning to look at Lunara, who was thankfully still standing close behind him in the doorway, Rayne presented her with a reassuring smile before raising his voice to make himself heard over the panic. "Leave the evacuation of civilians to local law enforcement and any nearly Confederate Defence Forces! We'll fall back to the Clansmoot and join up with the Dread Guard, we have to get the Viceroyalty out of here!" Not in the least because this had happened within those eight minutes which that rambling woman had spoke about earlier, and it didn't earned her a whole lot of credibility. Leaning against the doorframe, Rayne spoke up into his communicator. "This is Master Rayne Centaris to any CDF-transport in the area! I am near the Grand Square, on the corner of... the corner of 5th and Schmee, along with Lord Marshal Azure. We require emergency extraction to the Clansmoot!"

For a couple of seconds, there was nothing but static on the comms. Rayne was about to repeat his transmission when a voice cuddenly came through, almost as clear as if the owner of that voice was standing right next to him. "Master Centaris, this is Green-2. We are en-route to your location, one minute out. Stand by for pickup."

 

[Ciri Jade]

Objective: Evac Civilians
Location: Capital Bio-Dome
Nearby Allies: Holt , Rann Thress , Tess Valnora
Hostiles: Open​

Between her turns, she had been keeping track of people around her, examining body language and expressions. Thought it was a nearby screen that brought everything to a pause. The gruesome image being displayed was nothing new to her, growing up in the Underworld you were likely to see some similar things if a gang was crossed, especially the Hutts. The act reminded her so much of them and their enforcers, she could almost smell that odor that lingered in every Hutt Palace. Though it was just her mind recalling an old scent, nothing more. To her, it wasn't the violence that stuck with her, no, the message that he had wanted to send. The people around her seemed to feel different as their looks of shock and fear seemed to tell, but it was the tugging at her hand which turned her gaze most.​

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Small fingers had found her hand, and she could feel how much the little one was shaking. The young rutian girl had not witness such violence before and the light in her eyes had dimmed. All of them stood in place, as feelings of uncertainty tore through them. Looking back to the screen, the image had faded and her mind finally found itself once more and she knew what she had to do. The parents rushed to the side of their children. A couple of them looked to her for answers and her eyes met each of theirs just as the overwhelming sense of unease washed over the populace. Under her breath, she grumbled at the sudden change. Though once it seemed to let up, she gestured towards the nearby underground bunkers. "Momeu, yoieu bu kanwon kankahnee! " ("Quickly, get the children inside!") It would be best, for their own safety. If other Twi'leks, or anyone else, meant them harm, it would be safer in the bunkers.​

​

Her comms rang to life as she moved to the side, away from the twi'leks who were moving into safety. Listening to Holt's words, she glanced around at the buildings before reaching into the pocket of her jacket. Removing a LK Spider Slicer Droid before moving through the masses to a nearby comms antenna and lifting her hand near enough for the tiny droid to climb up close to it. "Get access and get me data on all who have connected. Return to me in five minutes. Understood?" The small droid acknowledged, leaving her hand as it crawled upward towards the objective. Activating her pad, she sliced into the system and began to secure the system as the droid worked to gather the details she would need. Encrypting her own connection, she worked to keep the system in the hands of the Confederacy. She was less worried about what the Agents of Chaos may attempt to say, and more to ensuring that the lines of communication between those of the Confederacy remain secure.​

​

Activating her comm, she tapped into the secure CICOM channel which had been established after the dismantle of previous channels of the now defunct Ministry of Secrets.​

​

< Connection established. Communications are in our hands. Valnora, I'm collecting data from the comms array for the dome. Once my droid returns, I'll be on the move. What's your position? >​

​

Down the street, she saw Rann Thress , and recalled seeing him with Holt earlier that day. Glancing over her shoulder, at the path the droid had taken, she checked the time before moving out into the street and approaching him, he seemed to have been looking at his helmet for a moment which amused her slightly.​

​

"You're with the Knights Obsidian, aren't you?" She asked, preferring not to spook him, she'd rather not end up on the wrong end of a lightsaber by startling the poor soul. "Colonel Jade, CICCOM. I need your help with getting civilians to the shelters while I ensure our communications are secure." Gesturing to herself as she introduced herself, she then gestured towards a nearby group of civilians who still appeared just as confused as many others. She'd hope he could help them, giving her time to focus and for the droid to collect what she wanted.​

Spoiler: Equipment

• Roc-class Mk I Stealth Armor
• BCR-X19 Needler Pistol (Concealed)
  • 4x Kaminoan Darts (Gifts from Damsy Callat Post-Vondarc)
  • 4x Makite Themfar Darts
• Cyber-Eye Contact Lenses x1 Pair
• LK Spider Slicer Droids x2 (1 is deployed)
• A-180 Blaster Pistol (Pistol Config.)
• Corvus-type Chronometer

 

[Rann Thress]

​

Location: Ryloth, Capital Bio-Dome
Objective: Assist Evacuation of Civilians from Parade
Allies: Holt Ciri Jade CIS and Open
Enemies: AOC and Open
Equipment: Octarchy Covenant Armor

Rann jumped, hearing the voice, jolting him back to the present. He turned to see the source and straightened.

He was unfamiliar with military protocol, or how exactly one was to address a Colonel. Still, he deigned to try his best.

"Uh, Ma'am. Yes ma'am. I mean, Kind of ma'am. I mean. Sure? Yes. No. Yes. Yes. I'm Rann. I uh, I guess a 'trial' member is the right word. And Yes ma'am, of course." Rann nodded and fought the urge to salute. Do they salute? It felt right. Oh well, he'll salute later. He turned and ran towards the civilians hoping to gather some of the panicking people and get them to the shelters beneath the buildings. His brain immediately went into focus, acting with the singular purpose of saving lives. Ulterior motives disappeared, giving way to his dedication to this mission.

He did think to himself, however, how unlikely this seemed. He did doubt the severity of the claim of an attack. Until word came through of enemy forces jumping into the system. Rann continued, hurrying his pace. Local forces and other Confederates were already assisting the evacuation, but Rann could not stand and do nothing.

No one had noticed Rann before the broadcast. He was very unassuming looking, and for good purpose. He could not remember seeing a single pair of eyes staring back at him during the height of the festivities. And why would they? He was a security guard in fancy armor and had no bearing on the merrymaking of the day. He might as well have been invisible. That changed as soon as he put on the helmet. Several pairs of eyes were on him now. Local Defense Forces and some civilians were staring directly at Rann, acutely aware of his intimidating suit of armor. Rann was fairly certain they recognized him as a Confederate. Some called him a "Knight". He knew they were referring to the Knights Obsidian, and didn't care enough to correct them that he was not a member of that Order. At least, he thought, not yet.

There were scattered groups of still civilians in the square unsure of what to do. Panic had started to sweep through the area and it wasn't long before widespread routing happened among the populace, if it hadn't started already. Rann was uncertain, he couldn't see too much from his new position.

He wanted to shout very loudly that the people should not panic, although it was a lie. However, he was fairly certain that were he to shout that it would have the opposite effect. Rann himself could feel his heart thumping, fearful that it was about to puncture his armor from inside his chest. Several emotions gripped him and he was unable to get a handle on any of them. Fear, excitement and sorrow were at the forefront of his mind as he tried to, as peacefully, helpfully, and kindly as humanely possible, approach a group of scared Twi'lek's, a family. The man looked at him with eyes filled to burst with fear.

"Excuse me. You need to go find shelter. Do you know where your shelter is?"

"I-I-I-"

"It's okay. See those two?" he gently placed his arm on the man, and pointed towards two CDF officers trying to direct traffic.

"They know if you don't. You need to get your family safe. Alright?"

The man nodded, turned to look at the woman and the children, and together walked off to the two officers.

"This isn't going to be good. This is taking too long." Rann said to himself. He wondered how much time had passed since the broadcast. He was uncertain. His hope, however, remained that they could evacuate the civilians before anything more happened.

"This is poodoo! How was I supposed to know 'expect the worst' meant be prepared for an act of war!" he continued, shouting to no one in particular. Any Twi'leks nearby paid what he was saying no mind. They steered clear of him for either fear or respect for his choice in uniform.

Rann looked over to the group that surrounded the Twi'leks. He saw them all move out together towards a nearby set of buildings and elected to follow them. Rann didn't think knowledge of where these safe havens were was important information, so he to his shame tuned that part of the briefing out. He decided it was a good idea if he were to know where the nearest Shelter was so that he could better guide wayward civilians towards protection.

Throughout this whole ordeal Rann could help but feel a bit useless. He knew he couldn't and shouldn't expect to be able to single handedly solve this crisis, but he felt like he was not providing anything new. He tried to shake these thoughts, to convince himself as he slowed to a stop, watching as the group of civilians entered into a building. He looked at the building and suddenly remembered having seen something of it's location as a secured Shelter. Satisfied, Rann turned and jogged back to the square, looking for more lost souls unsure of what to do.

"He-Hey! Get to your shelters! Does anybody not know the way? I said-I-Does anyone need help? Anybody? Oh man.." The panic was spreading now. The square once filled with laughter and music was replaced with screams and sobs. Rann looked, helplessly as the populace still in the square remained planted by fear, immobile. He looked down and saw some kid, not yet an adult or just barely one, laying down holding himself. Rann blinked at him and quickly decided that saving one person is a start.

He walked over to the boy and, without words, extended an arm down. When the form refused to take it, Rann sighed and picked him up. The Twi'lek offered no resistance, silently crying and hyperventilating, and Rann carried him towards the Shelter he had seen. He looked around as he walked, seeing countless others directing or rescuing stunned Twi'leks and couldn't help but smile. He didn't know if he belonged here in the Confederacy, not yet, but he was proud to work alongside these people who sprang into action to save the people almost immediately. As Rann delivered his cargo to safety, he turned back towards the square and started jogging back. Again, he wondered how much time had passed, how much time was left, and what exactly would happen if the square wasn't cleared in time.

He activated his comlink, hoping to get through to that Colonel, Ciri Jade " Colonel Jade? Rann. If you can hear me, this isn't going fast enough. The people aren't exactly....I guess prepared is the word."
He shook his head and cursed silently to himself. Through gritted teeth, without realizing his comlink was still on, he seethed. "How do you prepare for this?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

LOCATION: Viceroy's Mansion
OBJECTIVE: Evacuate Clan Elders
EQUIPMENT: Morph Armor, Lightsaber
CIS: Darth Metus | Redd | Astrid Skovgaard | Jason Farkas | Darth Miseria
AoC: Madalena Antares | Kyrinov | Hanna | The Bridesmaid | @whoever else I missed I'm sorry

Captain of the Dread Guard. The responsibility was almost as exciting as wearing a suit and negotiating friendly terms with businesses and politicians. Since finding himself in this post, Gerwald had attended two meetings. One was with delegates from the Sith Empire wishing to understand Confederacy First. It was an odd thing, Sith wanting to understand. Most of Gerwald's encounters with members of The Sith Empire taught the lupine understanding was not a word they often held in their vocabulary. The other meeting was with members of Darkwire, and Elise from the Silver Jedi. They were an interesting bunch, and Gerwald was still forming an opinion on them. Though he was certain theirs of him was set considering certain events which found him chasing some of their members while unclothed.

Today, found himself in another meeting, however this one was different. Gerwald was on edge. He was there to protect, and this time he knew why. He simply did not know when. An anonymous message had been passed on to Gerwald as a conduit to warn Darth Metus that Ryloth was in imminent danger. He was not there to simply protect a delegation, Gerwald was there in case all hell broke loose. Since they did not know when the attack would come they did the only thing they could do, they went on with life. Still, as there was a celebration on going with many blissfully unaware of the danger, Gerwald could not help but feel his stomach churn in ways that only spoiled meat, or the flu, could rival.

The Clansmoot had begun as boring as any of these meetings could go. Metus explained the ideals of CIS first, the idea that it was time to protect the borders and the people within them. A new hyperlane was being discussed and how that would make trade between Confederate worlds much easier and less cumbersome. The time was spent all on things Gerwald had little knowledge of, or little interest in. It allowed his mind to wander, and wander it did.

A sigh left his lips as his mind considered the events of his life among the Confederates, the friends he had made, and the people he had lost because of his decision to join them. Naedira Darcrath was chief among them as things with her still seemed to be uncertain. His sister Alwine Daye was among those who were now gone. There were others, but those two carried the most import. Friends had been gained as well. Damsy Callat , Morrigan Vale, and Redd, were students of his, and who could forget the newest coffee guy Jason Farkas, who was literally selected to be in the meeting to do just that, serve coffee. Gerwald nodded to the man as he took a fresh cup of caf.

Among the Dread Guard were two others Gerwald had requested. They were Lupine, they could be trusted. Redd his apprentice was one, and a newcomer Astrid Skovgaard. They had met on a mission and her skill was quickly noticed. While Gerwald was not her master, he wanted people he could trust, people who were not what they seemed. Gerwald wanted to be ready for any and all possibilities.

It was then the one thing Gerwald feared happened. A voice was heard over the comm channels, her voice. Gerwald had not heard the voice of Madalena Antares , or her sister Scherezade deWinter , in a long time. If she was there, the other was as well. Did she still sense him? Did they? Gerwald still knew nothing about the ins and outs of force bonds, but he knew they once had one. Would it still exist? He could not be sure. One thing was sure, her voice brought back memories Gerwald had long set aside and pushed to the recesses of his subconscious.

Slavery.

Empire.

Not Wanted.​

These were words. Gerwald had other words.

Selfish.

Inconsiderate.

Traitor.

Terrorist.​

Were it his place to respond, his speech would be nothing short of a testimony of the trail of violence she left in her wake. He would remind her of the evils her faction had committed on Kuat and Alderaan. Civilians were dead because of her. Gerwald would remind her of the time the Confederacy raced to Stewjon to free his sister Alwine and bring the might of their force down for imprisoning those they considered to be witches. Most of all, he would remind her that while she once told him he needed to be free to choose the life he wanted, when he did choose, her actions told him she truly meant that he was free to choose the path she wanted him to take.

This speech was nothing more than how she had always been. In one breath she told the people of Ryloth they were free, and in the next she presumed to speak for them. Madalena was not there to free the people of Ryloth. She was there to do what she had always done, impose her will upon others. Her final ultimatum was enough to justify Gerwald’s opinion on the matter.

It was not his place to speak, however, and before anyone could reply another interruption came. This time it was over the holonet. Everyone was forced to witness the brutal and unforgiving murder of a scholar, an author of history, but most importantly a citizen of Ryloth. They had been given eight minutes to decide, and in less than that a civilian was already dead.

A growl could be heard from Gerwald as the clan elder spoke. His eyes were blind with rage. This was not just a casualty of war, it was a heinous act which brought about needless death, a waste of life. There might be those who would call it a coincidence, or downplay the timing, but that did not change the fact that the speech given had opened the door. Twi’lek may have spilled Twi’lek blood, but it stained the hands of Madalena Antares and all those who followed her.

Metus responded with his usual bravado. Gerwald smirked as some of his own thoughts found themselves in Metus' reply, though he would have rather left the invitation to return unspoken. There was chatter on the comms as the speech flowed. Exarch Srina Talon had ordered the Confederates see the civilians to their homes and the bunkers underneath. Darth Metus had ordered the same of the clan elders present.

Gerwald heard the order in his mind clear as day.

They needed to evacuate.

NOW.

With a nod to the Vicelord, he turned to the other Dread Guard present.

“There is a back exit where we will not alarm those in the courtyard. Take the clan elders there. Redd , Astrid Skovgaard, if it comes to violence, no one gets past you to the elders as long as there is breath in your lungs.”

They were not just wolves, they were female wolves. The other lupines would have the urge to protect what was in their charge as strongly as the urge to hunt or kill. Gerwald did not trust anyone else with that task. While the remainder of the Dread Guard would also accompany them, they were in charge. He would not see them leave without words to his squire. Even as they began to comply his thoughts pressed into her mind.

“We have trained for this. Stay sharp, keep your senses about you. Protect what is yours to protect.”

Blue eyes looked to the newest squire among the ranks of the Knights Obsidian Jason Farkas. This one was new, too new. As far as Gerwald new he had no training, not through the Knights Obsidian, perhaps the kid would surprise him, but this made him Gerwald’s responsibility. While the action may get heated where Darth Metus was concerned, Gerwald would stay by the Vicelord’s side unless ordered otherwise. This meant Jason would be there as well.

"Jason you will remain with me unless I tell you otherwise."

Once again there was another speech, a lot of talking, a lot of orders from an organization which was claiming to be there as champions of freedom. Gerwald could not focus on what was being said other than to note that one of them had pointed out their eight minutes was up.

Gerwald turned to the Vicelord to comment. “I think we knew that the minute they beheaded a civilian.” The wolf chuckled. “The elders are being escorted out as we speak and will be taken to the nearest bunkers. Are we going with them or do we stand our ground?”

A wolfish grin tugged at Gerwald’s lips. The wolf within the lupine was ready. He could sense the fight coming and it was ready.

 

[Gabriel Volturi]

LOCATION: Siskeen, Olanet Conference
TASK: Help the Seccessionist
EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber
CIS: Daegon Corvinus | Seraphina Corvinus | Visanj T'shkali | John Locke | Raven Thystle | Prennis Keeoli | Corius Harckon | Faye Malvern | Kyyrk
AOC: Annasari | Enlil | Alwine Daye | + Anyone else I missed

​

For much of the opening remarks and pleasantries Gabriel had remained in the background, quietly observing. Occasionally his datapad would vibrate with notifications of the happenings on Ryloth. The assassination was of particular interest as he was sure not even the AoC really saw it coming. Sure they were at times an unstable bunch, but even he was hard pressed to imagine them ordering such a gruesome display in public. It was just the spark many of those seeking a fight needed, but not the outcome most hoped for. It was paramount now more then ever that this mission succeed where Ryloth had already failed.

Gabriel scanned the room once again, looking for any chinks in the armor of the CIS when his eyes settled on Faye Malvern. While his attempts at influencing this gathering seemed to effect most in some measure he got the sense that this woman was repelling that same influence from herself. Interesting. Only one other person in his long life had Gabriel met that could over turn his influence. He would have to watch this one and perhaps follow up after all this messy business was concluded.

His attention was grabbed once more as the Lord Commander entered the room. He'd never had the pleasure to meet Kyyrk in person, but Gabriel had attempted to learn all that he could about the man. He was yet another person of interest for Gabriel. While he was not so vain as to believe he could influence the leader as he did with so many other weak minded fools, Gabriel had hoped that today would provide an opening for later dealings. "After all, it is my understanding that these Agents are the ones responsible for the happenings on Ryloth, if not complicit in them."

The master frowned at hearing once again his allies being accused of this heinous act. For all he knew it could have been true. But it would not due to start this off with an assumption that would automatically place the AoC on unequal footing. Animosity had a way of poisoning the well of what would other wise be a productive debate. Gabriel stood from his chair, calmly placing a hand on Alwine Daye 's shoulder. He wanted to reassure her that this was still her arena, that he was merely doing as he promised.

"On the contrary Lord Commander. I think it is important here that we differentiate between the AoC and those that fly their banner to give themselves legitimacy. My associates here did not come to Siskeen or Ryloth for war. They came hoping to force the Confederacy to stop and listen to the people, and ultimately sue for a peaceful solution. That murder went against the AoC agenda for their actions today." Gabriel took another scanning look around before continuing. "If war was all the wanted then I would have not been invited by my esteemed colleague here. I am not counted among their people. I am merely here as an outsider. A representative of interests that have long sought a working relationship with the people of Siskeen, and to an extend Ryloth. We are all here for the benefit of these two worlds. To see that their children may grow up in a prosperous world. While we see that prosperity from two different world views I think it is safe to say that underneath it all we are truly on the same side."

 

[Luca Donskoi]

Location: Siskeen, Olanet Conference
Equipment: CDF Officer Uniform | Wedding Ring | Prosthetic Arm
Allies: Faye Malvern | Daegon Corvinus | Seraphina Corvinus | Visanj T'shkali | John Locke | Raven Thystle | Corius Harckon | Kyyrk
AoC: Annasari | Enlil | Gabriel Volturi | Alwine Daye
Other: Derek Dib

Clouds dotted the horizon of Siskeen as the events began to unfold. The rays of the system’s star painting an immaculate display among the sky’s canvas with wispy strokes of magnificent reds, oranges and golds winding their ways among one another. A serene grace awash in a sea of natural beauty. However this was but a mask for the tumultuous events that ran their own course below. For an outspoken, and possibly misguided, Viceroyalty sought to separate those systems he governed from that which saw them to such prosperity. To such growth and liveliness.

That said, however, Alden would not fault a man for following his own aspirations to stand by what he felt was best for those under his rule, but one needed to be sure. There had to be a certainty that the path one chose to tread was indeed what was best.

Alden had arrived a little later to the palace where the conference was to be held, the chaos that had stricken the people of Ryloth diverting his focus for a moment. He may have been given orders by his superiors to attend this summit, but he still held duties within the Confederate Defense Force that demanded his attention. The peace and security of the worlds which chose to remain and prosper under the Confederate banner among them.

Truth was, there would always be extremists on both sides of anything so when this terrorist action had come to flaunt itself over the HoloNet, it was sadly an inevitability. There were always those that sought to upset the established order of things. Always those that felt throwing a wrench into a society that flourished was a good thing. They got amusement out of it. And as intel had shown there were even murmurings of a gathering and growing organization so sought to spread such pandemonium out among the stars. To murder and enslave innocent populations for no reason at all beyond their own gratitude. A collection of imbeciles that found the utmost pleasure in the pain and destruction of others. At points, from what had been collected, whether through hearsay or legitimate intelligence, this group of organized infidels had moments where they made the Sith Empire appear to be good guys. A blatant contradiction to everything Alden knew and felt in his being. And perhaps the actions of this terrorist who so barbarically blasted his rhetoric over the HoloNet had been sanctioned by the organization itself. After all, it wasn’t exactly a leap to connect the two parties’ ideologies.

As his transport landed, Alden stepped from within and descended down the ramp, immediately making for the palace. He was flanked for a junior officer on either side, something of a security attache. One which protocol dedicated escort him, yet one he felt no need for here. Nevertheless, it was what it was.

As he arrived at the chamber where the conference was to be held, he was met by a mysterious man which stirred some emotion within him, yet he couldn’t exactly discern what it was. This Enlil seemed to be a curious character at first glance, and perhaps just a low man within the hierarchy that had the unfortunate duty handed to him of greeting arrivals and expressing certain rules and criteria to them. Not that it was a bad thing to rank in such a spot amid the greater hierarchy - Alden remembered well his times as such, even though certain forces at work saw to it that he didn’t spend a great deal of time there. Still, though, he missed the free time and the lack of responsibility it held. The absence of the pressure and stress the welfare of thousands and thousands of men and women beneath his command brought him.

Alden raised a hand and dismissed the two officers that had accompanied him and turned his attention to the doorman, Enlil. He raised his hands and assured the man he held no possessions that might reasonably be deemed a weapon. Unless, that is, this doorman wished to classify his prosthetic arm as such. If so . . . well, Alden was prepared to go in length as to the merits of the arm, but time deemed such things trivial and unneeded. He was already later than he had wished to arrive due to happenings beyond the borders of the Siskeen system.

Alden was here to be a face for the Confederate Defense Force as part of the Confederate delegation should need of his particular expertise arise. And he hoped whatever assistance he could offer would quell the disgruntled Viceroyalty’s unease and distaste as to remain a member system of the Confederacy. After all, to lose the system would be a striking failure on the part of the Confederacy. At least as he had seen it and he hoped that would not be the case.

 

[OOM-001-JELLYBEAN]

Location: Ryloth [Capital Bio-Dome] Outside Confederate Defense Force Garage
Weapon: E-5 Blaster Rifle
Enemies: Oceiros Sunstrider | J'onns | Thalia Senn | Madalena Antares & AoC Allies
Allies: Rann Thress Draconis Sederius Wolf Millu Lee Srina Talon Prennis Keeoli Ciri Jade Vytal Noctura Julra Repraj Damsy Callat Lunara Azure | Tess Valnora | Maeve Archeron | Allya Vi'Dreya + Any B1's that Wanna Party

​

An explosion went off right behind the head of OOM-001-JELLYBEAN.​

​

It ducked with metallic arms raising, angular and thin, to protect its neural processors from the heat and debris that billowed out of the open blast doors to a Confederate building. A garage, of sorts for the Defense Force. The sound of tearing metal and permacrete from within caught its attention. Most of the damage seemed contained, but it was a very peculiar phenomenon. For a moment it couldn’t sense anything through the smoke but whatever had gone kerflooey was strong enough to shake the ground.​

​

“Nuhhhh—”, the B1 started to speak, nasal tones, not really sure what to do. One moment JELLY had been gesturing people toward their domiciles and the next things were blowing up? The B1 unit didn’t exactly understand what was happening, aside from missing out on a party bus in the sky, but it would always follow orders. “Nothing to see here! Move along, move along!”​

​

The Twi’lek people seemed all too eager to get away from something that made such noise. JELLY couldn’t blame them and nodded with satisfaction when they continued on their way. Wow, they were really panicking. The droid turned, head first, then the rest of its body followed suit. There were at least two dozen OOM models trying to encourage that the people listen to the Confederate higher-ups about the issued instructions to seek shelter. JELLY could understand. The Twi’lek were more colorful than the garden variety human, but, they were just as squishy. Bags of bone and blood.​

​

Or ash. News came in from on high that the "Golden Lance" was moving in to fire? Oh dear, Oh dear. ​

​

It would be a mess trying to clean all that up. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any immediate casualties. At least, no more than the one that lost their head. That was subject to change. It swiveled its head a little and tested its antenna before transmitting the coordinates of the explosion to all CIS personnel in the area. “This is 001-JELLY BEAN. Reaching out to Grand Marshal Terrik. Reporting—Something in sector alpha-nine-dash-three. An explosion went off inside of a Defense Building. Not outside. Really strange, uh, no one has been in our out.”​

​

“Uncertain of the damage. Status of vehicles unknown. Civilians are clear. No known casualties. Permission to investigate?”​

​

It had a standard E-5 Blaster Rifle slung over its shoulder. Not that it had seen any action. This post was as dull as a bath and buffer in week old oil. JELLY would need a good detailing after this. All the colored paint and powder from the festival had turned the droid all kinds of unsightly shades. A few twi’lek younglings had taken to drawing things on it when they could. JELLY was uncertain if it liked to be an art canvas for completely inappropriate graffiti, but, it seemed very important. “JELLY will proceed into the building at your ( Luna Terrik ) order with back up units. Standing by.”​

​

“Repeat, Standing by. Roger roger.”​

​

Soulless photoreceptors peered into the darkness within, past the open blast doors, but it couldn’t make out much in the dim lighting. Heat and gravitational sensors were all over the place on Ryloth. The B1 tapped the side of its head while muttering about “junk” and “last years model” installs before calling for its brothers and sisters. “We have a situation. Stay alert. I just got promoted—Don’t screw it up.”​

​

A chorus of “Roger Roger” filled the air while they began to get into formation. For the first time since walking out of storage on Ryloth, they lifted their weapons, and waited. ​

​

Spoiler: Actions

Noticed the Explosion
Reported it and sent through the Coordinates
Waiting for Luna Terrik to give the order to check it out

 

[Nerium]

Objective - Gotta go fast.
Location - Aboard the Ricardo
Carrying - Generic lightsaber | Daggers | Pouch of Fabric Flowers and Buttons | Melekki
Allies -@Kyrinov | Herah | The Bridesmaid | Zaldros Sabolte | AoC
Enemies - CIS

Are you ever... not in a complete state of Chaos?​

Nerium's head turned to face The Bridesmaid , grin wide and eyes staring up at the woman, eyelashes batting in such a way as to mock innocence. "Me? I don't know wha-" she couldn't finish the sentence, a giggle interrupting her attempt. A gentle thump on her head brought her attention back to Melekki for a moment, the Hummingphant shaking his head at the antics. In the moment, Nerium narrowly resisted the urge to retaliate, to jeer at the small creature with a dumb facial expression or grow a trunk of her own to hit him back. But all that was stilled when -

“Confederacy… Your eight minutes are up. Leave the civilians be, that is an order. We are coming.”​

And they were off, heading toward the pods. There was a spring in her step, though not nearly enough to be a skip. If anything it was a movement of a dance, one with an unnerving grace before shifting to a staccato. Will you walk into my parlor? a spider once said to a fly. Or something like that. The records were unclear. And in boarding that pod, scooting to claim the pilot's seat first before relinquishing it to someone who actually knew how to pilot, a thought began to creep into the recesses of her mind. Were they, this group, the spiders? Or would they become the fly?

 

[Daiya]

Location: At the festival, Capital Dome, Ryloth
Goal: Avoid the distractions of the festival
Equipment: Phase I Haywire Armor, Raven Knife, Dissuader KD-30 (Loaded with Glitter Bullets), Deactivator Hold-Out Blaster, Vita Stones, View Masker, Interference Box, Holojournal
Tags: Madalena Antares | Scherezade deWinter | Prennis Keeoli | Beric Layne | Ciri Jade | Enigma Iuda
Quack: Duckie Talon

The festival's bright glowlights had come on an hour ago, yet the teen girl sat transfixed by the glowing object in the sky. A sunset, an actual sunset. She had visited worlds before with sunlight, at least as reliable illumination, but she rarely had the chance to truly appreciate it. The artificial glowlights of her homeworld were ever-present, both day and night, and on Denon there genuinely was no difference below the rooftops. Sakedo Tower might rise above the skyline, but she couldn't afford to live there. On her world, only those with real wealth could experience a sunset.

Here, it was just free for anyone to see. The streets of the capital dome actually had a direct view to the painting of the sky as the Ryloth star dipped behind the horizon, and no one save her was looking. The girl was surprised by that discovery, though not enough to keep her eyes off the scenery. The datapad in her lap and stylus in her hand fell idle, shutting themselves down automatically as if attention alone powered their existence. She barely even remembered the drawing she had begun, the sun's artistry had out-shown her in every way.

Daiya blinked a few times when the vivid hues of orange and pink began to fade from view, waking back into reality. The festival was just as it had been, Twi'lek natives and visitors mingling within the streets to celebrate Founder's Day. The crowd may have thinned since the glowlights came on to signal the day's waning hours, but only ever so slightly. She still sat, poised and undisturbed near the body art tent. The diligent workers, with their undying patience for the fidgety younglings waiting in line to get their own glitter-laden artwork painted on, had inspired the girl to sit nearby and pull out her own holojournal. A new page had stared at her for the longest time, her hand uncertain of its destiny in that moment, until a thought —not a vision this time— propelled it forward.

The drawing of the matanga, standing in a pose more bipedal than the pachyderm was meant to, had evolved over the course of the doodle. At first, the dots were only meant to be guide marks for drawing the limbs, until the city girl realized she had been putting them in the wrong place. She'd giggled as she explored the mistake a bit more, coloring the dots white against the garishly pink matanga. The more the creature evolved on her page, the more fantastical it became. Just before the sunset caught her eyes, the teen artist had watched a young Twi'lek gain a pair of roller skates on her hand, and the body art had been inspiration anew. Now the pink polka-dotted matanga on roller skates was only needing a few finishing touches, the sunset had just distracted her from completing the task.

It wasn't the only task she had been distracted from today.

She had come to Ryloth for a completely different purpose altogether, one that only coincided with Founder's Day by coincidence. No, Daiya had come to the capital dome on Ryloth on the eve of an attack by the Agents of Chaos, an arrangement that had intentionally coincided. The Darkwire agent still didn't quite understand the significance of the woman who had contracted her by secure CryptNet messaging, but according to Enigma it was a Very Big Deal for Luminous Sun to grace her with a personal mission indeed, not to mention outfitting her with the latest Whimsy gear to blend in with the Agents of Chaos.

It had taken Tawrro a little more time to appreciate the great honor bestowed upon her, but that was probably because he didn't like the remark the message had about him. Daiya couldn't blame him, even if she had giggled privately at the idea of an overgrown bantha with a shotgun as a guardian angel. He had tried to couch his stern warnings in tales of war instead, but the girl could only envision a bantha head speaking his words while he lectured and found it impossible to keep a straight face. Even though he had finally been convinced to let her on the job —or at least convinced that refusing it wasn't an option— the teen had watched a very cross Wookiee growing smaller and smaller as her ship left Denon behind.

Daiya thought the job would be simple, with the Agents of Chaos causing mayhem like they she'd witnessed herself on Iphigin, getting into the Viceroy's Manor should have been easy. Maybe not walk-through-the-front door easy, but easier than a quasi-military parade ending at its front porch and security as thick as thieves. When she asked, all anyone knew was that some meeting was going on there about the Confederacy's new border checks. Boring!

The festival had seemed like a good way to pass the time, then, at least until the enpinkened warriors appeared. She'd half-expected to be in the middle of some festival game when the attack occurred, but as the day wore on, Daiya had nearly forgotten about the Agents' arrival altogether. At least until the ominous voice had echoed over the planet's comm systems, counting down eight speedy minutes for someone to turn their attack into a party.

As if that wasn't ominous. Besides, Daiya was finding the Twi'leks holding plenty of party for everyone. Who even needed a Clan Quinn kalikori anyway?

If Madalena's deadline had reminded the girl of her timely mission, it was another voice that reminded her of a more pressing reality. "Hey, what'cha got there?"

The teen looked up to find a trio of Twi'lek kids around her. They looked to be about her age, maybe a few years younger, she wasn't sure. But Daiya was sure about what their posture meant.

Trouble.

One of the Twi'lek boys grabbed her datapad, eliciting an agitated, "HEY! Give that back!" from the girl.

"Shut up, hair-brain," one of the others said. The Human girl tried to get up, but he pushed her back down. "Stay where you belong!"

The trio crowded around her holojournal, sifting through her most private memories. Her visions, her darkest moments, sketched out in digital. They were hers, for her alone, not for anyone else to see! "I mean it, that's mine!"

"Then take it back," the lead boy taunted, but when she grabbed for the datapad he moved it out of her reach. Held down by one of his goons, the Twi'lek delinquent had free reign to peruse her most important possession. "Stars, this chit is pretty dark. You draw people dying a lot."

"That's what those are?" the other member of the trio spoke up at last, and Daiya only then realized it was a girl. The Twi'lek girl turned to her, holding nothing back in her unprofessional critique, "Mother of Moons, you're a crappy artist."

Daiya could feel the heat blazing against her cheeks, the fierce anger growing in her chest. The girl reached for the boy holding her down, grabbing one of his lekku and giving it a hard tug. His yelp was her cue to spring up, her arm stretched out to take back her datapad from the Twi'lek bully. She was knocked aside by the lone girl of the trio, an elbow in her side that sent her gasping toward the ground.

She propped herself up on a hand and a knee as a trio of laughter circled around her, tormenting her. The teen grabbed for the datapad again, but the bully jumped out of range and the girl slapped back her hand. Daiya growled, though not her best impression of Tawrro's combat yell, and launched herself back to her feet, only to find the diminutive Twi'lek thief ring running away.

The girl ran, slipping and dodging around festival-goers and bystanders, chasing after the taunting laughter of the Twi'lek rascals. She breezed past games she had played earlier that day, and dashed a circle around a crowd that had gathered to watch a shirtless man with bugling muscles. Their chase took her through a small group of Twi'lek younglings tossing around a ball that she had to leap to avoid, and then another with a ball of snow. Daiya could feel her heartbeat race as she closed the gap, only to be blocked in her way by another oblivious group of adults she was forced to dodge.

By now, Daiya could feel the fear rising in her throat, swelling with every heartbeat. It crept sickeningly up into her mouth, leeching it dry with every quickening breath she took in. The rascals were too far ahead of her now, and the blurry tears in her eyes were threatening to mire her path, to make her surrender more of a lead to them. The thoughts of what she would lose, all the visions from her past, all her sketches of friends and idle bouts of imagination. All the proof of her developing her meager talents, just gone.

Then suddenly her thoughts coalesced into one. The girl set her jaw, feeling the thought permeate through her body. It pulsed in her veins, it coursed through her pumping limbs, it became the core of her being. Somewhere inside her, Daiya found a renewed energy and speed, bringing her closer to the trio than she had before. She reached out a hand, the thought compelling it forward, and it closed on air just behind the lead boy even as she yanked it back.

"Oof!" the boy sounded as he hit the ground. Daiya crouched over him, pinning his sides with her legs so he couldn't get away again. He tucked under in a defensive measure, but left his lekku exposed.

"Ha!" the girl cried in triumph at the same time as the boy cried out in pain. She beamed proudly as she stood, holding the datapad clutched to her chest, and stepped away from the boy. The other Twi'lek kids stood beyond arm's length, but she didn't care about them anymore. The girl only had one more thing to say to her chief tormentor, "Stay where you belong!"

The satisfaction at her rescue only lasted until the girl passed out of sight of the Twi'lek urchins, finding her way back to the game tents. Then the emotions came welling back up, all the fear and anger and hurt, no longer held back by the chase or the all-consuming thought again. Her legs gave out under her as she fell to her knees, the foreign soil beneath a bed for her dripping tears.

Daiya was hardly alone in her outpouring of emotion, others around her wept and wailed, too. But the crowd around her had each other to share with, a world to defend and a government to back them up. As the festival around her crumbled into a stage of public mourning, it was only the Darkwire girl who was truly alone.

 

[Redd]

Location: Ryloth, Viceroy's Mansion
Objective: Clansmoot
Equipment: Current Outfit
CIS Tags: Gerwald Lechner | Darth Metus | Astrid Skovgaard | Jason Farkas | Darth Miseria
AoC Tags: Madalena Antares | Kyrinov | Hanna | The Bridesmaid | @Whomever I missed

Redd had been asked to attend the meeting by Gerwald, in fact she almost protested against going. However, Gerwald had told her of an immediate threat, one that hung over their heads and so she finally agreed to attend. So here she was. The wolf stood on two feet within the room watching politicians do what politicians do best and her hand lightly played with the cuff of the simple jacket that she wore. She could understand that appearances mattered when it came to attending to them, but she often wondered if she would have been better off in looser clothing. Either way, she could still move and it did not restrain her from any kind of fluid movement, which was all that she could have asked for.

As she watched on with a cup of coffee, still full to the brim, she couldn’t help but amuse herself with the events that unfolded and led her here to the present. Once she herself had known nothing but chains and cages and as her head angled slightly to the right, she also couldn’t help but admit that if it wasn’t for the involvement of certain Confederacy members, then she probably wouldn’t have her current freedom. She owed them; felt loyalty towards them.

In fact, she’d still be in that arena, ripping throats out in a life or death situation on a daily basis, if it wasn’t for them. After her freedom had been obtained, she had been well cared for, even though she had probably been one of the worst patients possible. Ever since being within the Confederacy, she had started to learn so much and she felt that she had begun to slowly integrate into the faction and work with their members. Golden green eyes shifted to look at the cup of coffee that was held within her grasp and she slowly moved to place the cup of cold coffee down upon a level surface. There was no point in holding it, as she hated the bitter taste of the drink. In her opinion, it was better to keep both hands free, rather than only one.

Gerwald, had been the grounding foundation, the anchor that held her and challenged her. Every time that she wanted to run wild and just simply be a wolf, he was there to pull her back and remind her that she also had a human side. She didn’t want to accept it, still didn’t. In fact she would rather be on four paws instead of two feet, but it had been Gerwald’s insistence that she be human rather than wolf. Even she knew that her wolf scared people, but that didn’t make the pill to swallow any easier. Even after all of these years she still felt grief; a loss that would never truly leave and a sense of restlessness. A sense of directionlessness had plagued her, a sense of not having a purpose.

Suddenly, she heard the voice over the comms and her head snapped up to glance over towards Gerwald and then shifted over to the Vicelord to gauge his reaction. She didn’t understand the tension. For when her pack had been invaded, there was no announcement, nothing. She remembered the day almost like it was yesterday and had been reliving it ever since. Eight minutes, they had eight minutes. If her pack had been given eight minutes, what would they have done? What could they have done? Would her pack reject the eight minutes? Evacuate even? Devised up a plan to defend their territory and their people? Redd wondered what her parents would have done if they had the time, but there had been none and her hands fisted in quiet anger while eyes golden green eyes bled into a pure gold. When would the insanity end?

Then after the speech, they got to witness the beheading of a civilian and her own growl joined that of Gerwald’s. It was barbaric. Did the Agents of Chaos plan to kill everyone including those that were simply civilians, no matter if they couldn’t defend themselves against any kind of physical assault? A hand lifted to grip her forehead and saw the flashbacks of houses on fire; heard the woman and children of her old pack screaming in fear, the smell of fear and smoke was fresh to her mind and it almost felt as if she was there again. That young pup that had only just learned to shift. Except this time it was different, Gerwald’s voice snapped her out of whatever trance that she had been and her hand fell away from her forehead and looked at the male. She gave him a nod to know that she had heard him and looked to her partner with a slight smirk upon her face.

Astrid. She had only known the other lupine since Operation Caliban, but her pack was growing and knowing another lupine had helped continue to settle her into her current pack itself. A female, finally one who could completely understand the struggles of a female lupine and she held out a hand to fist bump the other woman. Whether returned or not she stretched in preparation to shift and then she heard Gerwalds words into her head. The woman bowed her head for a moment and her gold eyes bled into pure green as those words hit home. She felt them from deep within, before green changed into gold and a new determination was born. She would not let this new pack down. Over her dead body.

That was when she heard it over the comms. A warning. “Gerwald! Vicelord!” The woman called out after them suddenly, ”There has been a warning! Captain Clark says that The Golden Lance is moving to an orbital bombardment assault position.” Redd angled her head slightly to the right and listened to the repeat before nodding her head again to confirm the words she had just spoken before shifting to look towards Astrid, her partner. ”We need to take the Elders to the nearest bunker, perhaps there is one here that we could use?” Redd paused as she took in a deep breath at the enormity of the very real threat.

 

[Bella]

Objective/Location: From the Chandelier
Fighter: iNf-46 Needle Interceptor - Miracle Seven
Onboard Equipment: AoC Flight Suit, Survival Kit w/ EVA Suit, G47 “Pipsqueak”
Allies: AoC (Dimitri Lindzinsky), Allied Chiss Fleet ( Lash ), Golden Lance ( K Kaine Australis )
Enemies: CIS ( Tyrias Aran Amelia von Sorenn )

It took painfully longer for the lights to turn green than Bella had initially thought it would, since the First Fleet had only been on the edge of the system rather than within Ryloth’s far orbit. As such, many of the pilots in Miracle squadron were forced to wait for slightly longer than was comfortable, especially those who had managed to complete all of their pre-flight checklists early. Unlike the training missions the squadron had underwent in the simulators and during various exercises, there was no banter over the squadron’s comms. Every pilot in the SHC Unicorn, and by extension, the First Fleet of the Agents of Chaos, understood that they were facing a battle-hardened naval force with thousands of battles worth of experience to draw from, which was supplemented by a large corps of both synthetic and organic-piloted starfighters. There was undoubtedly a large number of aces among them, but they were not even the most dangerous threat in the battlespace to the pilots of the First Fleet.

“Everyone knows their assignments.” The soft, yet authoritative voice of Miracle One spoke over the comms. “All we have to do is adapt and execute, then all the other pieces will fall into place. We don’t need heroics and as long as you cover your wingman, we won’t need to dogfight as well.” The woman continued. “Is everything clear?”

“Yes, Scrapper Master!” Miracle Six answered snappily.

“Good.”

Moments later, the lights in front of Bella flashed green. Immediately, her interceptor violently accelerated into the void of space, which registered as a brief sensation of intense Gs before the craft’s inertial compensators managed to adjust to the new stress. Already, Bella could see the enemy fleet ( Tyrias Aran ) staging in the distance, with fighters already scrambled and deployed. It would only be moments before the battle above Ryloth began in earnest, but it seemed that both fleet groups had been given orders to refrain from delivering offensive fire, save for a mercenary vessel which had broken from its position in the formation of the enemy fleet CIS fleet to begin firing on the Golden Lance.

Then, the obviously annoyed voice of Miracle One echoed in Bella's montrals.

“Kark, do these blasted mercenaries have any discipline?!”

 

[Dasmi Lindervale]

F L E E T - A D M I R A L | D I M I T R I​

ALLIED TAGS: Lash K Kaine Australis Bella Strider Garon
OBJECTIVE: Micro Jump to Ryloth
ENEMIES: Tyrias Aran Amelia von Sorenn

Dimitri waited, eyes wandering the screens for any sign of an enemy fleet. If he had a better sense of battle, he might have been able to pick up on something in the eerie silence. Not that it mattered as a chime sounded in the CIC as the assistance he had been waiting for appeared in the system.

“Spectre's, cease defensive maneuvers. We are making our micro jump. Hard burn.” The time it took the pocket carriers to right themselves saw Lash and his group jumping once more as Dimitri counted time. “All hands prepare to jump. All stations prepare for combat. Yellow light the squadrons shortly before we drop. Green light them when we do drop.”

A sharp nod from his officer had him now watching the timers as the hyperdrives spun up. Eyes scanned the screens in front of him once more, avoiding the seat that had been put into the CIC for the man. He wanted to pace, wanted the freedom of movement rather than the confines of a chair.

Bodies moved, information passed back and forth as the chain of orders were passed down. Squadron leaders were informed, and they prepped their groups. The starfighter directors waited anxiously, all grabbing a handrail anticipating the lurch. All of them were waiting for that green light.

They had practiced the moves, knew the timing of when to begin drawing the next starfighter into the lane for deployment before the other had fully entered the void of space. The smell and heat of the engines roaring to life got their adrenaline going, and made them work like a well oiled cylinder.

Six of the Unicorn’s squadrons were dedicated to carrying the Interceptors, the other half made up of Prowlers and Bombers in a two to one ratio. The Spectre carriers and Monarch Destroyers had half of their squadron’s dedicated to Interceptors also, but the mix of Prowlers and Bombers was in equal measure compared to the Unicorn.

The pair of Monarch’s pulled ahead two of their ship lengths from the Unicorn while the Spectre’s maneuvered. The Spectre’s formed up far and away behind the group as the gutted Wraith and attached support vessel sat underneath the fleet carrier. The engineers aboard patted the thin containers as they crossed the gangway over to the support vessel, leaving the pilots alone to their work.

Walking about in anticipation, he peered over the shoulders of those working feverishly at their stations. The communications officer caught Dimitri’s attention as a transmission came from the Ricardo. A heavy sigh came from him as his eyes turned back to the timer to see it click to sixty seconds and he took his place back near his seat.

“All hands, brace for jump in-” The first officer called over comms to the First Fleet, counting down every ten seconds until counting down from the final ten to one. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Mark!” Came the final callout before the short hop, skip, and a leap towards the planet. Dimitri groaned at the rocking motion from the jump, nearly falling back into his seat before the scene opened in front of them.

The First Fleet had their first glimpse of the goings on when they dropped, while the green light on all carriers glowed for the starfighters to begin launching. The Golden Lance, closing towards the planet for what looked like a breach of contract, a small vessel drawing dangerously close to it. With what seemed to be the intent to ram given the speed it was traveling.

A startled gasp or sharp inhale of surprise came from those in the CIC as sensors lit up. The different compartments began working together, coordinating the squadrons as they spread out and squadron master’s called out their departure. The Spectre’s did not wait for their hangars to be empty before they began to turn broadside to the fleet( Tyrias Aran ) before them.

Their collective turbolasers warming up as they maneuvered several lengths of the Unicorn behind the rest of the vessels. They pulled forward while angling enough to draw the enemy fleet into range of their long range turbolasers before parking themselves and waiting for orders to fire as they calculated trajectories and worked out which section was being targeted by which vessel. The weapon’s aboard the Unicorn focused to defense while the Monarch’s began to slowly shudder forward.

The Monarch vessels were not close enough to offer support to the Golden Lance, though they were in the way of the Spectres behind them. Communications opened up between them, the Unicorn encrypting the lines as it prepared for jamming enemy targeting systems.

The six Spectre carriers, paired with the single Endurance Carrier and Monarch vessels together spewed starfighters out at an alarming pace. The whole scene appeared as though someone had kicked a nest of bees. Of the forty six possible active squadrons aboard the fleet, half of them were already rocketing both out and forward from the hangars.

The Interceptors screamed forward first in larger numbers than the other style of starfighters. They bobbed and weaved, mingling with the ships before kicking their horses towards the Golden Lance. The Spectres came scooting out next en masse followed by the Ghost Bombers.

The pilots aboard the gutted Wraith punched in coordinates before setting it on course towards the planet, hightailing it to the gangway before the engines could rip the ship away from the support vessel. It’s engines shuddered to life, a rip cord of durasteel chains and a huge carbonite nanofiber parachute with a timed charge leading out of the still open hatch from the support vessel.

Each durasteel container was chained to one another in equal lengths, designed with a deliberate flaw to rip open in the atmosphere upon entry. It scuttled away as the fighters raced forward. It's path set for the atmosphere of the planet but no closer to deliver it’s surprise package.

With no one aboard to maneuver it, it was set to a dummy path for entry into the lower atmosphere before exiting after a short time over the biodomes.

Dimitri stood in the CIC of the Unicorn, unable to look away from the Golden Lance as reports of its energy build up came through. “No no no no no. That was not part of the plan you fethin dolt. Why-!?” He would not finish the statement as Rimes called his attention to the fleet ahead of them.

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The derelict Wraith vessel burned into atmosphere quickly, it's path predetermined as the charge blew on the parachute almost spot on with the engineers guess work. The ripcord drew taught as the parachute flew open and yanked on the connected chain. The blazing chute held fast as the first barrel rubbed against the metal panels that had been erected to guide the daisy chained barrels out of the vessel.

Below, a ship could be seen tearing through the atmosphere, fire around it as form their perspective a string emerged from it. Upon entering the atmosphere, the barrels split open, the material burning in atmosphere as it's contents spilled into the lowest part of the atmosphere. It twinkled in the brilliant light, some of it burning up on the way down as countless more barrels were pulled from the vessel, the weight almost null on the chain as the barrels burnt up and dropped their contents.

CONTENTS OF THE BARRELS​

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Glitter began to rain down on the planet surface. Sky filled with the sparkling shiny material as nineteen million kilograms of the sparkly craft material twinkled down. In truth it was only half of what the Wraith vessel could hold, but one had to account for how to deliver the goods. And honestly, Dimitri had become tired of waiting for the factory to deliver more.

As it descended through the atmosphere, it lived a gloriously short life, burning up quickly as it was only plain craft glitter. The only thing it could hurt in the end was the collective hearts of those that loved glitter.

It was likely a strange sight, the sudden nova of shimmering sparkles in large pockets behind the wraith vessel as it scooted along. The sudden dispersion of glittery gold shining brightly before it quickly disappeared without a trace. The great glittering had been done, and all could go home now.

EQUIPMENT

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Spoiler

1 G47 - Pipsqueak | Hip holster
1 K914 SMG | Concealed in right side of jacket
Phase I Haywire Armor | Worn beneath his lined leather jacket

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FLEETS

Spoiler

MAIN FLEET* - (8.1km)
SHC Unicorn- Dimitri Lindzinsky (12 active squadrons)
Pocket Carriers - 6 (4 active squadrons each)
Monarch Class Destroyers - 2 (5 active squadrons each)
Wraith Vessels - 1 - Disarmed of Weapons (Currently

SECONDARY FLEET** -
Sentinel Class Heavy Explorer - 3 (1 active squadron each)
Wraith Vessels - 20
Pocket Carriers - 4 (4 active squadrons each)
Kessel Class Armed Couriers - 57

STARFIGHTER SQUADRONS -
Numerous - Oni ClassProwler (12 per squad)
Numerous - iNf-46 Needle Interceptor (16 per squadron)
Numerous - Ghost Starfighter/Heavy Bomber (12 per squadron)
Numerous - CST Toscan 8-R Fighter (12 per squad)

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[Alora Fae]

​

Location: Heading toward the Gardens
Equipment: Standard Knight’s Obsidian Armour | Standard Lightsaber
Allies: CIS & Friends
Tags: Rylan Kordel ​

Festivals were Alora’s favourite thing. Her people had a penchant for being placid and boring, so when Alora first arrived at the Confederacy she drank in every colourful party she could. It never got old. Ryloth was a beautiful place to be, made more beautiful by the joy people seemed to share as they celebrated Founder’s day. Alora had asked Rylan to explain it to her several times. The Twi’lek people had been slaves, and the CIS had helped liberate them, and today was the day they celebrated their freedom from their iron chains. It was an apt celebration. Alora was very much enjoying it.

The witches of Mandragora were present, doing fantastical spells and sparks for the twi’lek children who watched eagerly. Alora, ironically enough, was neither a child nor a twi’lek. But she was still entirely enraptured by the show. Everything was perfect, until…

Alora turned her head up to the sky, a bewildered look on her face. She couldn’t see where the voice was coming from, but she was no newb in the Confederacy. She knew they had technology that could accomplish this kind of thing. When she glanced back to the witches, their expressions told her something was very wrong. The voice in the air spoke too quickly for Alora to keep up, and their accent was too thick for her to make out most words. Damn Galactic Basic was difficult as kark to pick up, sometimes even Rylan had to slow down and say things word by word, but when the panic spread from Mandragora to the rest of the crowd, she knew something was wrong.

Her concerns were only confirmed when her personal datapad chirped loudly, to which she removed just in time to watch the head of a Twi’lek roll across the screen. Kark. Alora shoved her datapad back into her bag as quickly as she could and began to navigate the gathering of children, making head way for the gardens where she knew Rylan would be waiting. When the gardens came into sight, Alora could wait no longer.

“RYLAN.” Alora started into a sprint as she closed the distance to the garden gates. When she reached them, she didn’t waste time fumbling with the locks, instead she simply hopped over them. Gravel crunched noisily underfoot as her heels dug into the path, sending her careening forward to the bench where her lover waited. When she finally reached his side, she skidded a little until she almost flew right past him, but quickly corrected her trajectory and came to a stop in front of him. “Did you hear the sky voice speak?” She did not look panicked, nor did she sound it. That wasn’t the nature of her people.

Instead, her left hand twitched rapidly at her side. The almost imperceptible movements wouldn’t have made sense to anyone else but Rylan, Alora had spent months teaching him the emotional sign language used by her people. He would recognize the signs for panic, and the signs for dismay, even the sign for sorrow. “Did you see what happened on the viewing window?” She brought out her own small, personal datapad, the one which currently held the image of the dead, beheaded twi’lek in its centre screen. “We must help the people get to the safety underground.”

 

[Jason Farkas]

Name: Jason Farkas
Equipment: Nothing
Location: Viceroy's Mansion
Objective: Stay next to Gerwald and deliver coffee to everybody
CIS: Darth Metus, Darth Miseria,Astrid Skovgaard,Redd,Gerwald Lechner
Aoc:The Bridesmaid,Hanna,Kyrinov,Madalena Antares


Jason, the 22-year-old man, was just about to bring some coffee to Gerwald, as he was watching everybody near him. This all was new to him, since he just got into the Knight Obsidians, a few days ago. Even though he tried to remain calm, everybody else, who was force sensitive, probably felt his

nervousness. He didn't know much about all that, what was happening here, but he knew, nothing good will happen. As he brought Gerwald his coffee he went a little behind him, since he had no experience and nothing important to say since he was only a squire. He just watched the others closely. He wanted to see how those in front of him would react and what they would say, since that is very important. Learn how the man in front of him talks and reacts. His hands were behind his back as suddenly he listened to this voice that came up and the video that was projected. As he witnessed this cruel act of violence, his stomach felt strange. It wasn't the first time he had witnessed something like that, but somehow, he felt uncomfortable seeing this. Probably because he began to think about a million ways, how this would now continue. Most likely a war. But war isn't always bad or let's say completely bad. For many people this would sound strange, but for Jason war, was a thing that shows the best as also the worst in everybody. While everybody would witness the cruelty and recklessness of everybody, everybody would also show everything they can. Everybody would eventually grow in strength. He fell a little bit into his own thoughts, thinking about funny comments to make him feel better like "twi'lek more like twi'lacks of a head". Of course, he wasn't saying that out loud, otherwise everybody would hate him since such a comment would simply be disrespectful and just out of place.



As a few moments have passed, Gerwald talked to him and Jason simply replied with "Copy that". Since Gerwald was busy now due to what everybody just witnessed here. Of course, he felt bad for that poor twi'lek. But he couldn't do anything. After all he had no combat experience. But that made him a little bit sad. He joined the Knights Obsidian not only to gain knowledge but also to help people and now he was just standing there, not being able to help but only making sure everybody would get coffee. It was a little frustrating, but he had to go through that.

 

[Izwi Kutaurira]

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Location: Derek Dib's Palace, Olanet, Siskeen System
Objective: Convince the Confederacy to give up the Siskeen and Ryloth Systems
Allies: Agents of Chaos, The Siskeen Coalition, Twi'lek Freedom Fighters
Enemies: The Confederacy, but only if they choose to be
AoC Tags: Derek Dib Enlil Alwine Daye Gabriel Volturi Annasari Holly Starstorm Larentia
CIS Tags: John Locke Raven Thystle Kyyrk Visanj T'shkali Faye Malvern Corius Harckon Daegon Corvinus

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Izwi had only recently joined the Agents of Chaos. He had felt obligated to; they had liberated his home planet of Kuat, after all; but he had also wanted to join. He wanted to help liberate and save other planets and systems as the faction had done to his. So when he heard they were recruiting for their diplomatic division, he signed up almost immediately. This was his first mission. He wasn't expecting to come with this many people, but he was ready nonetheless.

He had always had a way with words. Even as a child he had been a bit spoiled because he was so well able to convince his parents and guardians that it wouldn't hurt if he played for 10 more minutes, if he had one more cookie, if he stayed up a bit past his bedtime. Now that he was grown up he used his persuasive nature to protect. Well, maybe every once in a while he persuaded someone to give him what he wanted, but that wasn't very often. Izwi was ready to finally use his gift for the greater good. To free the Siskeen and Ryloth systems from oppression.

As he entered the conference room, he looked around for a place to sit. He hadn't made any friends yet—that will change soon, he promised himself—so he had no guaranteed seat. He recognized a few faces, of course; mostly the higher-ups in the Speakers division. He spied Alwine Lechner, leader of the division, and decided to sit next to her. She would certainly know what she was doing. He sat down next to her as Derek Dib began to speak.