Invasion Traitors Gate | NIO invasion of TSE held Vjun, Yavin and Vaal

[Maynard Treicolt]

P R O T E C T O R
PROTECTOR OF CONCORD DAWN
RAIDER SQUADRON
SCREAMING FOR VENGEANCE
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | PISTOL

PHANTOM
RAIDER SQUADRON 11/12
MK. IV Fang-class Starfighters
PROTECTOR STARFIGHTER CORPS
X-Wing​

Maynard caught the scent of blood from Valen's Corvette, but the Sith was quick to react to his interdiction, dropping a mine in its wake. There came the split second decision of what he prized more. His own safety and survival, or inflicting damage, lethality. While in hindsight, from an inward projection, hindsight, the choice seemed obvious. But There came balancing the significant emotional event and lingering trauma that came from taking a 'hit' in space from one of these opposing crafts with seeing his newfound, momentary nemesis burn alight.

Regardless of his gunslinger ambitions, instinct took control and at the immediate deployment of the ion based explosives in the wake of the Chimera, Maynard jerked up on the control stick to veer his X-Wing from the blast radius of the ion bomb, only for the concussion from the blast to send jagged shrapnel of debris and metal in his wake, a clatter of metal beating against the glasteel canopy with a horrid noise all but inches from his head. He'd been in too many missions for that to shake him, he glanced down to the squadron listing on his HUD.

Eleven of twelve. One of the 'Fangs' were brutalized in Arenais's attempt to evade and attack Maynard. Her had to get retribution. He'd make it personal.

<"Loske- clear out these fighters. I'm taking out the corvette. Take command off me for- shouldn't be too long."> Ever the gunslinger, or more accurately, ever the Renegade. The command was pinged the rest of the way to Raider. Prioritize clearing their stretch of space from Sith bogies. Maynard would head hunt for the prize, snap the glowstick.

<"Ya'll ain't found a way to kill me yet...won't be today either."> Maynard says to himself before pressing forward on the control stick, The Chimera a mainstay on his targetting computer as his main target. His right cybernetic hand reached toward unto the dash, flicking the payload to Disruptor Torpedoes. It certainly did the work in these circumstances, of boxing above his weight class and even he wasn't so delusional to think he could keep a tangible Force concentration to wield shadow bombs, not here.

Maynard dove down after The Chimera, lining up himself unto its thrusters were at the center of his target reticule. As the targeting computer worked on painting a lock on the corvette, he fired a disruptor torpedo from the first tube anyway before letting loose a flurry from the wing mounted blaster cannons. He was out to kill, if it wasn't clear by now to the adversarial pilot, the direct blaster contact would have made him keenly aware that he was being intently hunted, and certainly not by any traditional Imperial TIE ace.

ALLIES | NIO | CD | Loske Treicolt | Legate
ENEMIES | TSE | ENGAGING] Valen Arenais | Alina Tremiru | SV-2121 | Nyxeris

 

[Laertia Io]

The Model 1 chuckled a bit using it's high quality vocabulator.

"You think I and my brothers wage war out of a need to inflict death?" The Model 1 asked, red photo-receptors trained on the interrogating officer.

"No. That is not why this humble son of Darth Xiphos wages war. Nor is it why any son of Darth Xiphos wages war. We enjoy it certainly, but that is not the end goal. Mother doesn't care about the crusade of The NIO. To her, you are a irritant in your unrelenting struggle against the Sith. Should you manage to retake Galidraan and destroy the Sith, it won't make a difference: By the time you have done so, The Bryn'adul will be much stronger, much more dug in, and extraordinarily difficult to dislodge. Think about it, Soldier of The Iron Son: After all the material and soldiers you'll have expended against the Sith, what makes you think you or the GA is going to be in any position to defend against The Bryn'adul? The Victor is always weakest in their moment of victory. If I were The Bryn'adul? That is exactly when I would strike. They will rip your world from your hands after you have fought to conquer it with all the effort of a knife through butter. To my brothers, you are something to cut our teeth on for the true enemy, an intelligent obstacle that provides endless past times and war study. Not that you have not provided us ample delights and entertainment since Generis. What we learn Fighting you, we took to heart at Sarka. Mother designed us to learn via warfare. To define ourselves in our struggles with mighty opponents who we must constantly anticipate and outmaneuver. And when we feel like it, to indulge in Society's many polite fictions as best we can when there is no Galactic Menace to occupy ourselves with. Does a Nuetralizer have blood lust? Does DECEASED Erskine Barran drink like an oil baron who's found a milkshake?"

(Cutaway of Abe Lincoln caving The Riddler's head in with a bowling pin.)

"Certainly on both counts. But inflicting pain and suffering is only a side bonus, not the goal. The goal is to become a great Warrior. To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their spouses... that's cool and all...very cool...but for us, we crave challenge."

The Model 1 played back audio recordings of a captured NIO soldier Xiphos had toyed with before allowing to live on a whim.

"Oh your boss Erskine would have had an interesting time there, all the worms rising from below to swallow whole platoons. These Bryn'adul..." The expressionless skull faced war bot muttered, leaning forward to the officer, playing back the feminine contralto of Xiphos speaking to a completely silent, terrified Stormtrooper on Serenno.

"Your leaders had better have a good plan, because Irveric Tavlar won't be able to crush them as ruthlessly as he has so many others."

The Model 1 picked up fear reactions from others in it's organic like motions and manner of speech. It mattered little.

"You have no idea what our Mother gave up to actively oppose you lot, do you?" The Model 1 asked, switching back to its Corellian Accent. "She had it made from what I was told. A shaky place in the Silver Jedi Order as one of its low level killers, a fast ship, pets, a hot girlfriend. You know the conviction it took for her to be willing to walk away from all that? She was building a reputation as an enforcer of the SJO. Even with her myriad of character defects, she was well on her way to succeeding. Then on Nar Kreeta, she watched and felt thousands die from one of the Bryn Worms. Changed her whole outlook. If Nar Kreeta hadn't happened, we might not have been built. She might have even been fighting alongside you. Amazing, how one battle can change a person's whole destiny, huh? Once she saw how far The Bryn'adul were willing to take it, her only response was to take it as far as she could herself."

Another electric chuckle escaped it's vocabulator. It had a dozen weapons built into it.

"So far, I have humored your attempt at keeping me contained. I don't feel like killing at the moment..this is so much more fun than my usual interactions with the NIO. Perhaps you can answer me something..." It pondered, clicking it's fingers together.

"Do you plan to turn on the GA, should you defeat the Sith Empire? I have been looking at it, and I honestly can't see you coexisting. And if you defeat The Sith Empire...why should not The Sith Eternal, The Maw Brotherhood not fully occupy your attention instead of the Bryn'adul? That's a three front war... could the Iron Sun could survive under such desperate conditions?"

Meanwhile...

The Skeletal Model 1 Nuetralizers fighting in the tunnel began to switch tactics as they lured the soldiers they had employed hit and run tactics on.

They began to swiftly decimate those they advanced on, employing chest mounted bio-assault sprayers, the lethal gas their projectors produced that began to creep through the tunnels where NIO concentration was heavy...

A Pair of Model 1's armed with shotguns and thirty caliber machine guns finally reached the area Djorn Bline and Kolson Vrask were at, and began to pour fire in their direction dual wielding Model 1 Disruptors , trying to slow them down as much as possible so reinforcements heading their way could get there in time...

Meanwhile...

Darth Xiphos had retreated with Cameron Crownwraithe all the way with The Battalion to Bast Castle. The NIO was not fooling around today. They meant to take Bast. Xiphos made sure to keep a lookout for Cameron, making sure to teleport lobbed Grenades at her back to their throwers, causing terrible explosions as the hail storm of laser fire increased on the second grenade, artillery and mortar strikes at the NIO's advancing lines now almost constant. The Model 2's seemed to be rallying Sith soldiers that would have otherwise fled, directing sniper attacks at every commanding officer they could spot. Berserker Model 2's cut down men with vibro battle axes half a dozen at a time, or smashed them to death with iron clubs.

Xiphos tried not to pay attention to the masterful use of Djem So and pure strength the Battalion utilized, getting a discomforting realization as to why The Amalgam had continually put The Battalion in proximity to her.

"We're taking an awful risk letting Barran this close. This had better work." Xiphos snapped at the Witch as she casually beheaded an imperial Knight.

"Don't worry. This one's a classic straight from Amy herself." The Battalion assured. "We just have to wait for Erskine to get most of his forces over the breach is all...

 

[Cameron Crownwraithe]

Location: Bast Castle - Vjun
Allies: TSE ( Darth Strosius ) │ EE │ CIS ( Laertia Io )
Enemies: NIO ( Irveric Tavlar Hâwmâr Lurais Willan Tal DECEASED Erskine Barran ) │ RGO (Augustus Tassar)

The trek to Bast Castle was long, if not a little chaotic as the trio of women engaged multiple New Imperial patrols, dodged tanks or in her mother’s case, destroyed them. Already, the diminutive speedster was attracting attention from the enemy forces, indicative of the Stormtroopers adopting looser formations in order to make it more difficult for her to blitz them in one go. Even then, Cameron continued to rip and tear her way through Stormtroopers and Strike Force soldiers, her sabers a pink flash of light as she ran through a ten-man squad which had been moving to pin down a pair of isolated Legionnaires, lopping off bucketheads from betaplast shoulders in the process.

After some time, the three women entered friendly Sith lines, attracting stares from the black-armored Legionnaires working to defend the castle, with two of the soldiers even approaching her mother, who was by now quite famous among the Sith-Imperial forces, for autographs. Cameron watched awkwardly as they did, but relished the moment to rest, taking off her helmet to down a few energy capsules before moving after her mother. There had been a break in the rain, but the stench of acid was still rich in the air, spurring the speedster to quickly put her helmet back on, even if it would only afford her meagre protection from the caustic elements. Not to mention, with the New Imperial forces bearing down on the walls, Cameron didn’t want to be caught with it off.

“Mom, I’m uhh...” Cameron paused. “I’m still not sure what the exact plan is.” The speedster inquired, if a little absentmindedly. “I’m getting that we’re trying to lure Barran to Bast, but like...what are we doing after that? Are we gonna meet him for tea and crumpets? Sing shanties together then stab him in the back? Maybe negotiate something?”

“I have a b-” The speedster paused again, before another dose of the energy-restoring cocktail into her neck with a slight grimace. “Well, not a bad feeling about this, but maybe a bit of apprehension.” She finished, briefly glancing towards the Battalion as she did, sensing that the Witch was the one who was ultimately responsible for the risky plan.

Spoiler: Loadout

• FAE/A-09 “Hayai” Energized Bodysuit
  • Left Gauntlet
    • Universal Gas Launcher
      • Pink Vapor
    • Vac Attack Mk-127 Disc Launcher
  • Right Gauntlet
    • Wide Beam Sonic Stunner
  • Energy Shield
    • Personal Energy Shield
  • Alchemical Talisman(s)
    • Spirit Anchor
  • Neon Overdrive Heels
  • Utility
    • Supernal Infusion
• Jasmine Lightsaber (2)
  • Pink Kyber Crystal
• Hekler'Kok SMG-01

 

[Darth Banshee]

Allies: Nyxeris SV-2121

Enemies: Legate Maynard Treicolt Loske Treicolt

Gear: See Bio

Spoiler

Fleet:
H.M.S. Carnnia 2000/1000 Squadron Count in ships manifest
H.M.S. Fiyarro 600/500
H.M.S Saffia 600/450 2x Squadron of Eagles (24)
H.M.S. Cross 600/450 2x Squadron of Eagles (24)
H.M.S. Starfire 80/75
H.M.S. Sun Burst 80/70
H.M.S. Apiarian 80/60
H.M.S. Cylipso 80/80
22 Squadrons of Pipistrells

She moved silently, nearing her pray, the enemy flagship NIV Epithath II. She was nervous, to say the least, she was preparing to take on a five thousand meter battle cruiser, and not just any battle cruiser, the pride of the New Imperial navy. This ship would be crewed by the best in their navy and commanded by probably a force user. Her squadron began to move into position, soon they would begin their attack run and land on it, she was heading to the bridge, with two other Noctuals, the other seven would be going to the engine room, each one of the ships had their attack run pre-planned, to avoid mid-space collisions. They were beginning to near their destination, soon very soon she could start her attack run, her only fear at the moment, as they could sense her, and her lightsaber as she approached. As without shields, her ship was very vulnerable if a stray shot hit them.

As she was approaching the main battle kicked off, her ships were now firing at the main enemy fleet. She could see the exchange of cannon fire, between them, as ships rocked, but maintained formation. They returned fire, upon the enemy fleet, she was not in a position to see who had firepower, but she was hoping for battle reports after this, she knew if things went right, she soon would be going back to serenno to reclaim her throne. Then she was going to put what she learns to work. Her Pipstrells were using the fleet as cover, along with the eagles for the moment. Ass he watched the enemy firing of her formation, most were just harmless shots bouncing off the shields. Then a stray volley missed her fleet, and head into what looked like deep space, they hit her personal cruiser. She watched in horror, as the shots pierced its armour. The ship was not built for fleet battles, it was designed for planetary attacks, orbital bombardment cannons and stealth was it main weapons. Hull full of landing crafts, and troops to deliver an army to battlefields below, elite fighters to protect them, and destroy hardpoints as they find them. This was not it's forte, this was a fleet action.

The crew was now fire fighting, when the volley struck it was stealth mode, its shields were down. The blasts ripped a sizable hole in its out hull, a few decks, were on fire. She could see plasma fire from even this distance, she wonders if pride and joy would even survive this battle. As more aimed shot hit, they managed to get shields up, but how much of what it up, she was beginning to feel anger, her eyes were starting to go yellow, as unhappy thoughts turned towards her enemy......

 

[Nukth Kelga'an]

VJUN SURFACE

OBJECTIVE I | PRIMO VICTORIA
OPPOSING | SITH EMPIRE
AREA OF OPERATION | CASTLE BAST
Darth Mori

SITH KNOWLEDGE, ANAXES MEMORY.

After the trooper's recon, the Banshee's ranks reorganized them in three-men squads. It was an atypical military disposition. Usually, commando teams were organized with four men, as Stormcommando squads : one for the lead, one for the demolition, another for the specialized assault and the last one for the back-up. But Nukth thought differently. He knew that the Sith did not know a lot of things about military tactics, but this organization was here because of something else. Kelga'an's men were not commandos like the others, they were not specialized in a precise domain of techniques, but they knew all the techniques they could. Said like this, it could be considered as a pretentious point of view, but it was right. Anaxes' military knowledge was undoubtedly great, and centuries old, as some persons said. It was something in their DNA, for several generations of soldiers.

The captain did not see his troops, right now, in direct vision, at least. Of course, he could see them on his HUD but he thought that real view was better than electronic. With his two troopers, he broke down a door. His men knew military engineering, so it was a piece of cake, for them. The Banshee's comlink was sputtering all around his head. A non-trained soldier could be lost in this communications, but Nukth -- as his men -- was a veteran. He was not afraid of the communications in his helmet, and he knew how to sort the voices.

The captain and the two troopers walked in a corridor. He was listening to the radio to know what was happening in the different floors of the Sith's castle.

"Cap', I've a team in difficulty, fourth floor." a trooper said.
"Confirmed." the second one added.
"Copy that troopers, gurgretir [gathering on my position], follow me..." Nukth ordered.

The permacrete corridor was desert but there was a lot of bursts in the next junction, just a few meters forward. The troopers moved quickly in this direction and stopped them before the end of the right wall. Nukth and the commandos connected their gun barrel cameras to their HUD and they look to the situation through it. The captain noticed five Sith troopers on their right, and a trooper noticed three Banshees on the other side, including one in poor condition.

"O-Nine, take our six." the captain said "Thirty-Eight, join your brothers, I'm covering you."
"Understood, sir." replied the commandos.

'09 positioned himself in the back of his captain and '38 prepared himself to run to the commandos in need of help. Nukth ordered the deployment and went in the perpendicular corridor. He raised his gun and fired in the Sith direction. One...two, three...four. The last one was hidden behind a junction.

"O-Nine, cover me."
"Copy that, sir."

Nukth move to the place where the soldier hid himself and drew his vibroknife.

"It's between us, kid..." Nukth thought "Don't be shy..."

The Sith trooper raised himself and the commando got down immediately, a few seconds before stabbing his knife between two plates on his leg. The trooper screamed and fell down, dead.

Ten minutes later, Nukth was at the fourth floor with '09 and '38. The Captain knew that something was going wrong and that everything wouldn't be all right, as always. He moved as fast as he could and crossed the path of Darth Mori, that he didn't.

"Take cover, commandos!"

Nukth hid himself behind the wall of a junction. He heard the death sound of the three commandos and held his breath.

"Commandos, listen to me. I'm going to prevent the other teams. When I'll order you, fire the Sith, understood?"
"Understood, sir."
"Here's Team Bravo-Four, please report to us, we're fighting a Sith Lord, over." Nukth said on the comlink. "Commandos?"
"On your back, sir." '09 replied.
"Three...two...one...go!"

When he came out of hiding, '38 launched a thermal detonator. The captain fired Darth Mori and activated his loudspeakers.

"A plethora is coming to you, Sith. And you won't be able to face them."

The corridor shook because of the detonator and Nukth smiled ironically to his enemy. He knew that she was strong -- in fact, he supposed it -- but the captain wanted to take revenge for the deaths of the three commandos.​

 

[Hakon Fett]

OBJECTIVE III //: SCREAMING FOR VENGEANCE | SURFACE
// TARGET >> SURFACE-TO-SPACE BATTERY //
haunted

"Hey," she hissed, "are you okay?"

The question had been addressed to one of the sith-imperials lying on the ground incapacitated with a bleeding gash. Abaddon had spared their lives only when his life-scanner had indicated their youthful age. Behind the intimidating helmet of orange and grey, there still was a flicker of Emmett Hayes' control and morality. The daunting memory of inadvertently killing his son on Dantooine haunted him, its mental scar had become the hedge against fully submerging into the Abaddon persona.

The cautious approach of another sith-imperial had not gone unnoticed by his helmet's scanners and Abaddon was quick to prepare the 'welcome mat'. As she stepped around the corner, the assassin's blade would flash into existence and stop an inch from her throat. The behemoth materialized, his crimson cybernetic ocular scrutinizing the soldier; its gaze piercing straight into the girl's soul.

"The control codes for the battery." he stated, "Or your life."

ALLIES | NIO | Legate | Loske Treicolt | Maynard Treicolt
ENEMIES | TSE | Eva Betrik [ENGAGING] |

​

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Lady Marrow​

The reaction was an unexpected one. But certainly not unwelcome. It seems that his assumption that the Sith were attempting to keep some of the Marrowborn's innocence was correct. Not many would gleefully greet an enemy combatant in quite that way. But the hug was welcome, his own arms moving to wrap around the strange fungal creature. A low chuckle escaping him as his embrace lifted her off the ground for a moment. "It is good to see you as well." He said, genuinely glad that for whatever reason he did not have to come to blow against the childlike plant being.

Innocence after all, should be protected. And he was certainly less than pleased that the Sith Empire felt it necessary to bring a creature such as this to an open battlefield. It served only to cause trouble, to frighten and scar something that would be much better off being left unblemished by some of the harsher facets of reality.

"Sorry if I seem a bit upset. There's quite a lot going on recently and it is worrisome." He explained, releasing the Marrowborn and taking a slight step back. Head tilting ever so slightly at her dismissal of her own troops. Another thing that was hardly unwelcome. But it again only saddened him. Such open trust she was willing to show him. Such faith in his better nature that he would not hurt her.

He hated to think of what might happen to her if someone with less than noble intentions found her. How easily they could worm their way into her trust, only to take advantage of her better nature.

He nodded once at her offer to go somewhere else. "That might be for the best. I'd rather we speak privately." He agreed, allowing her to lead the way. Keeping a careful watch on their surroundings as they did so. Calling on the Force to regulate his own metabolism as he moved through the battlefield with the strangely benign mushroom woman. He was familiar with her soporific aura. And while its effectiveness was no doubt reduced outside of her garden and in an open area. He would still rather be safe than sorry. Allowing the Force to flow through his veins, routinely purging or fighting back against the slow acting drug if it were to appear.

When they finally arrived, he would situate himself as comfortably as he could given the situation. Smiling benignly as Lady Marrow chattered away about her hobbies. "I'm glad to see you got along so well with the natives. And the perfume making does sound impressive. I can imagine you'd be quite good at it, given your natural talents." He said, making sure to engage in her interest, to acknowledge it. To praise it. "I'll have to see if I can purchase a bottle or two off you. I've got a few friends who'd love an exotic perfume." He mused, hoping to keep her hooked in the conversation. Reminding her that despite everything going on, he did have her best interest at heart.

And people were quick to deride Form 0.

"Now, I hate to go about changing the subject." He said, raising a finger to point at the concentration of dark power she carried with her. "But that thing you have. I can’t help but worry that your Master put you in a lot of danger giving that to you. I know a lot of people here would go a long way trying to take it from you. And I don’t think they'd care about who they hurt to get it."

He was honest as far as most people could tell. His emotions an open book. Genuinely concerned about her safety from carrying around such a potent artifact. Worried about what a target it would make her.

"Can you tell me what it’s all about?"

 

[Detritus Ren]

Location: Bast Castle
Objective 2
Allies: NIO
Enemies: TSE, DarrVack
Jin slowly began his climb up the stairs, the Imperial architecture of the castle harken back to the days of the empire. Creating an eerie atmosphere of sorts. Something of which seemed unsettling as the man continued his climb. Emerging on perhaps the first level of following the vision of his father, and that of what seemed to be the Sith Emperor.

As much as he sought what his vision meant, what these ghosts. They had quietly started to fade away, as if stopped. Vanishing like mist and what did appear, was a hulking being steeped in darkness. The Imperial Knight reacted with apprehension and impulse. Raising his blade up in a defense, the white blade mixing with the architecture of the imperial citadel.

The man spoke as if he himself was kept alive by armor. The voice did not seem hostile, nor seemed to make Jin an enemy. Instead the voice that calms seemed to offer answers to Jin’s own curiosity. When he offered to show the young Kyrel. He was hesitant, the Knight was never one to give into such darkness, but what could the Sith show him that the shadow over his very name could not?

“Why should I trust the words of a Sith? What can you offer me?” He asked, his tone mixed with defiance and a twinge of doubt. His blade raised down as he slowly approached him. His guard still there. What was the Force trying to tell him? He didn’t know, all he did know was that somehow fate had placed him into this very moment.

The air still, as if time had stopped abruptly, as if the Force had kept this very moment in freeze frame, and yet all the while. This seemed that this very moment was a crossroads for him, and where his path lies. His steps slow and cautious, eyeing the hulking Sith Lord very carefully.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

IX
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE
BLUE-HEART BRIGADE

Operation: CENTURION
VJUN, 865 ABY

Objective 1: PRIMO VICTORIA

Commonwealth Forces: Willan Tal Enedina Tal Tyrell Lockhart

Allies (NIO): Irveric Tavlar Silas Sunfyre
Hâwmâr Lurais Henry Lucan

Allies (NJO/GA/FO/SJC/): Viers Connory
Allies (RGO/OTHER): Augustus Tassar

Enemies (TSE/CIS): Darth Strosius Ingrid L'lerim Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir
Laertia Io Ulrich Cameron Crownwraithe

BARRAN'S LOADOUT
Primary: Custom Blaster-Pistol (Right-hip Holster - left-or-right hand draw)
Secondary: Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore (Left-hip Sheathe - right hand wielding)
Last Ditch/Second-Blade: Fairbairn Vibroknife (Right-hip Sheathe - right-or-left hand wielding)
Pocket-Weapon: Berach's Brass Knuckles (Right-pocket - right-hand wielding)

Blue-Heart Brigade (Mechanized-Infantry)
203 Cataphract Tanks
29 AFVs
6 ACVs
1 Battalion of Riflemen
1 Company of Combat-Engineers
1 Company of Elite Combat-Medics

THE BATTLE FOR CASTLE BAST: PART 5 - MUNSTEN'S DETAINEE

'Not t'be that sort o' guy, but in case you haven't noticed - the Galactic Alliance have been allies, trading-partners and all the rest of it for the New Order, an' for how long now?', the young Carrack asked in a challenging response, seeing plenty there that didn't accord to the Nuetralizer's image Munsten had of his Lord-Commander's longest-standing rivals on the field. Seeing irritation in the body-language in his detainee, the guardsman would chuckle knowing this often meant a reluctant acquiescence to what they were hearing, so Munsten continued, animatedly retorting,'Exactly! They've done more to attain order in this galaxy than your band of walking, talking gadgets of war ever have. So don't you go worrying your beep-boop about our relations with the Galactic Alliance that quickly, at least their backs remain upright at the mere mention of the Bryn'adul, eh? Have some ambition, will ya? You're a bleedin' killin'-machine, for Pete's sake! Nothing that stickin' a bit o' Vibrosteel in the right place can't mend, bai! An' you would do well t'remember that!'

Erskine's ACV could be seen approaching in the distance, but Munsten still continued,'And as for,"Our Boss", he's climbed through mounds of his subordinate's corpses just to come up for air and to keep fighting. The Brynad'ul are still flesh-and-blood after all, and thus would flinch if they came across Barran in the flesh.', though somewhat dryer than before, taking slight issue with the Nuetralizers' collective denial of Barran's struggle in particular. A lot of that struggle was inflicted on him by the detainee's leaders and their colleagues, such that made both Lord Erskine and his brigade's servicemen much more indomitable as a result. It felt unintelligent to even behave like the Blue-Hearts presented no danger to the Nuetralizers after that, but Munsten chose to conclude on the matter, dropping to a more matter-of-fact tone as he muttered,'And in a time when Force-Users are dropping like flies again, no doubt. No wonder we feel safer with Barran, we've seen how he fights.... And so have you, don't go denying it now. Besides, I think it's time you meet the man himself anyway. He'll have a message to pass on to your commander, that sound fine to you?'

THE BATTLE FOR CASTLE BAST: PART 6 - LEFTENANT, ROOSTER, CHAPLAIN

Standing out in front of the poised Galidraani line as it slowly set into two prongs, Leftenant Brand was staring into the sky as the acid rain beat down on the screen of his gas-mask's visor, laughing almost like a child as the green hues made it look like God had sent the Rooster personally to fight the Devil, an offer the Rooster would, to the others' almost-frightened realization, gladly accept. Knowing it would put the chaplain in line to laugh in the face of all things dark and horrible, there was no urge in Phillip's soul that could exceed the excitement of imagining a glorious struggle against the denizens of Hell, and that fact alone seemed to confirm what all thought about the Rooster, especially in that moment; spreading the arms of his thick hazmat-suit out, giggling with delight as the sight of the widest breach showed what sort of crucible they'd be charging into, the others could also hear him incanting, quoting from scripture and praying for the light of God to shine on all of them with the urgency of a holidaying-drunkard.

'Can you feel it, lads? That Ilum feelin'? God, it feels good to be a warrior today! I can almost guarantee the VEERS forces will embrace the MADINEs within the hour! Mark me words on the matter if you must! We're already bumping fists with the colleagues on the flanks, so lets make it a full-on embrace across the board, shall we?'

AFV One's crewmen would immediately set to reloading, repairing and refuelling their trusty carriage for the (more than a little-) bumpy ride ahead, lashed to action by the charismatic words of a man no longer concerned by the trivial requirements he once set for his subordinates. The budding-chaplain trusted in the abilities of the crewmen manning their dual-purposed Scout-AFV, never once forgetting what they had been through together, so he'd continue to bask in the moment as the others readied for battle unsupervised, disregarding all his mind's subconscious attempts to engage in the trivialities of jargon and savvy-talk. The greater feat, and the means to direct it to great effect weighed on his mind with the blessed burdens of every reality he faced, but the young Leftenant was only humouring these thoughts to imagine what momentous, sprinting force would inflict on his foes in each scenario; even going so far as to imagine the Sith-Spawn, Mawite Branch-Lurkers and Kaleesh-driven beasts had been assembled against their smashing, pulverising attack.

'All units, this is Brand! Spearhead: VEERS, as of this moment, is complete! We own the land beyond the fortress now! As God has willed it all this time, gentlemen. And now, I want every last one of you to bend the knee, and to bow your heads in solemn prayer to God....'

With grace,
You find yourself in the crucible of your own volition.
With strength,
You find yourself watching us, willing us to prevail.
Let it be assured by your hand,
Let us chase the infidels from God's kingdom,
Let us rout the Fools of Hell,

Prevailing for all things True and Holy.

Amen.

'Go forth, gentlemen! Kick everything you are into high-gear, and grind the bones of every demon who dares cross your path! God be with you, gentlemen! AFV One out!'

 

[Lady Marrow]

​

Tag: Arctus Silmar // Aaran Tafo
Equipment: The Marrow Blade

Lady Marrow would smile, her friend accepting her affection as she would begin to hop and skip along to the raised platform off to the side of the area, the raised rocks providing a vantage point so that they could see everything as it occurred. The 501st clamoring into the area as the brave Sith fought them off, this invading force plunging multiple worlds into absolute chaos. There were acolytes and their servants falling everywhere, blasts raining onto the battlefield upon either side as it seemed like the waves crashing upon the Empire were limitless in number. These lands would be fertile with the blood and bone strewn about them, life would certainly bloom on this battlefield not long afterwards for sure, the thought would make the Marrow smile. Holding the hand of her friend.

As they would speak of the perfumes, she would generate one of them, flowing it through not her spores, but rather from a balm that would pool in her hands to create a scent like Marigolds, oakmoss and vetiver would emit from the substance. The scent of infinity radiating adrift as she would hold it for Aaran to sniff at. Should he, he would receive a rush of energy, alertness and focus that would rush through his body, probably lasting a few minutes before a secondary wave of lethargy which would only last a minute seeing as the perfume was not sprayed upon him directly. Lady Marrow would speak excitedly about the varying scents she had attracted, including her favorite which helps her make friends better.

However, sitting high upon one of the rocks she would look to the object that was in her hand, her smile fading as she could sense Aarans' tone. She wasn't as naive as she once was, she had grown a lot, her garden had more than quadrupled in its size since Aaran had last visited, and she'd devoured more than a couple of complex minds with some of her newfound abilities.

"You don't like Master Shaper much... do you? He's actually been really nice to me you know, he says nice things. He's also been trying to stop all of the fighting really hard. If you gave him a chance, you might like him if you talked to him. This thing he gave me because he trusts me, he trusted me to complete his mission... I've been in danger before. I'm always in danger, I've been in danger since i was born on Aleen... People don't like me... I learned that when people call me a Marrow they don't exactly mean it in a nice way... But he says it differently than they do. And so do you."

She'd look sullen, solemn and sunken at the conflict that obviously sat between Aaran and Shaper, there wasn't much that she could do about it, the first time the two of them had met they were at odds with one another, as though they were opposite sides of a coin, opposing ends of a spectrum. But, as she thumbed over the amulet that shone in her hands she would contemplate the thought that maybe her master had put her in danger. He'd done it before without informing her of the full connotations of war, however, after she became more sapient she had learned that the connection was one that she should have made on her own.

"I'm not a child anymore you know... I know that things are dangerous. And that everything's so... ... ... complicated. It seems that the more i learn the harder everything gets... But I could sense you, and I knew I wouldn't be in danger if I was with you. " She would watch her reflection in the amulet, looking at how she'd grown, she was taller, looked more female although slender and lithe than most. Kicking her legs over the edge of the rock she would polish the crystalline glass to a polished sheen. Smiling at her job well done before finally looking to Aaran, cocking her head to one side as she would remember the look on his face when they had first met today compared to the time they had first met, and the one he wore now, such complex feelings... She didn't understand.

"But! You'll get your chance to meet Master Arctus really soon! Then you can be friends and see what i mean! Here!" She would say, hurling over the artifact with a friendly toss. The artifact had no abilities of its own to activate, it was little more than a beacon that had, with the help of Aaran been escorted past enemies to her intended destination. A perch that could befit a glorious entrance that all could witness. "And I'm happy that you get to be here to see this, I'm sure he'll thank you for keeping me safe!" She'd giggle as the Artifact would flash, the beacon to what was to come flaring as space not to distant from their position would begin to bend, a massive shadow in the force tearing its way through onto the battlefield as the feeling of the eclipse in the force would wash over a swathe of the battlefield. ​

This war would be about to change in a meaningful way...

It was time to crown the emperor. ​

 

[Djonas Val]

// FORSWORN ACTUAL // Knight of the Empire
// ALLIES | NIO // -- Kolson Vrask , Joren Loft - Djorn Bline , Izoshi , Amon Vizsla
// ENEMIES | TSE // -- DarrVack
Lightsaber | Tenebrae-Pattern | Pistol | Grenades

The argent blade snapped once again to the side of him, too far to just be protecting himself as Kolson Vrask moved to drag his man from his downed position. Despite the effort spent, and the progress made to get even these few steps ahead of the Storm Commandos, it was hard fought. Each and every move made by the droids made him reposition himself. While the Storm Commandos pulled back, Djonas drew their fire to the opposite end of the tunnel, to buy them whatever reprieve they could.

A bolt caught him in the right pauldron, the energy dispersing plate absorbing much of the otherwise crippling blow. Barely sparing more than a glance, before a bright ionic light exploded across the tunnel opening the droids had been birthed from. He shot his right off hand up, parted from his hilt and released a blast of the Force to knock a handful of them backwards into a cluster before he retreated back down the corridor with the Storm Commandos.

<"Knight! We need to clear his corridor. We gotta keep moving, to plant the bomb- or we're done down here!">

Down the corridor they had come there were a pair of enormous droids heading down their way. Undoubtedly fitting the names of 'Goliaths.'

Now behind them, the rather linear path they had been taking was filled with droids. But this hallway - was void of the trio of Knights he had left behind. His brows furrowed, the focused ebon features wavering as the sound of the Titan's behind them got closer. It sounded like they had disentangled themselves from each other.

A familiar presence touched his mind, and in his minds eye, connected via the Force he saw a glimpse of the same corridor. This time from a different angle, the corpses of Titan droids, smoking, with glowing furrows and gouges rending their metal husks to little more than sparking slag. The number of droids dwindled, and they neared the bend in the corridor that'd lead them to the backs of the Knight and the remainder of the Commandos.

It was then that the Knight moved, swaying around the corner and slashing across the metallic Titan, just as it came tumbling down over him. Sheared to the ground as he stumbled back into the tunnel wall. "Chit," he croaked out, before looking up, and catching sight of Rix, and the other two Knights further down the tunnel. Their glowing silver blades lighting the otherwise darkened threshold that'd lead into the belly of the beast.

"You coming, Val?"

"Grunge! This way!" Djonas cried out, briefly eyeing the Commandos shrinking behind cover. It was then that his silver blade deactivated. Both of his hands jutting outwards down the tunnel towards the Goliaths. The Force pushed outwardly from him, spatial awareness growing - how deeper underground they were, how far they were from Bast - even on the edges of his essence, he could sense the apprehension of the defenders as the attackers like DECEASED Erskine Barran drew imminently closer.

He could feel the centuries old darkness permeating the very stone the Castle was made of, experiencing only a glimpse of the corrupting Bogan salting the earth and the beach it sat on, sowing it with with the malevolent debasement of natural things. The lives lost - and those that joined the dead in that very moment on the beach.

The EMP that Grunge had thrown at the Goliath's earlier had slowed them down, but as they began to move again, the ceiling began to crack. Suffering under the newly created pressure that was the Force. While the Dark Side may have been undeniable, the presence of his fellow Knights, of the Commandos he was determined to save... They were a bulwark against the Dark, a reminder of the oaths he had taken in the past. Both as Jedi, and Knight of the Empire.

They were soldiers, the Knights his equals and friends. But on this operation, they were subordinates, his to lead to victory. But there could not be victory if they failed, not one that wasn't going to leave an entire beach painted in blood, not if they failed. And even if they did succeed, what was the point if they died without seeing the fruits of their labour?

Asd the first bolts lanced down the hallway at him from the towering droids, the first of the stones in the tunnel came down around them. First, small ones, barely more than a pebble before becoming fist sized. The cracks in the stone grew deeper, pushed forcefully through the foundation as telekinetic assaults turned microfractures to fissures. They widened, and like a fissure, spilled dirt and cracked boulders into the tunnel.

Dust billowed out, filling the tunnel with its aggravating particles.

"Hopefully that holds." Val said. Whether the Goliaths survived that mattered little. With his arms dropping to either side of him, he nodded to the entrance into the Castle.

Turning from the caved in tunnel, he stepped up and over the droid husks into Bast.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

G H O S T
i will bleed for better reasons this year
X-WING | FLIGHTSUIT | LIGHTSABER | FRANK
11/12 RAIDER SQUADRON
VENGER

​

Within seconds, the starfighter’s realm of engagement became a diffuse red glow, a battlefield spotted with puffs of smoke, blazing fireballs and tumbling machinery.

The TIE she’d painted with a target was a spiralling splint in the void, and Loske wasn’t taking the time to watch the plume from her weapons to make a connection. The hit would register on her screen when it connected.

It didn’t connect –– instead, it exploded into a gust of fire. And through those flames, the Interceptor came careening.

<Reroute power to front––>

Shields. Done. Frank finished before the command was fully issued.

At this point, it was pattern matching for the pair. Loske’s maneuvers were algorithmically predicted and calculated through Frank’s primary systems that made it feel intimate; when it was really just math and statistical likelihood of one call versus another given the scenario.

They were on a collision course, and Loske braced –– until the Interceptor swung wide and readjusted. Beneath her helmet, her white eyes narrowed, and she tracked it. Through veteran’s perception and The Force, the TIE’s trajectory was somewhat assumed, or at least predicted into a set of three options based on it’s remaining capabilities.

And then it dipped sharply.

At the same time her proximity klaxons flared again, her display flashed, and she followed the reaction of yanking her yoke upward, pressing the pedals urgently to shift power back to her engines.

Frank heeded the soundless command, feeling the sensitivity of the craft and giving that boost required to evade the cutting snap of supersonic energy that radiated and somehow managed to be heard even in space’s eternal silence.

Her X-Wing shuddered and revolted at the concussive ripple, and violently shook her so ferociously she had to make sure Frank wasn’t dislodged and cast into space’s unforgiving grip.

Off to her portside, Raider-Ten’s signal faded from sight. Their little blue dot on her screen was replaced with the naked-eye rendition of a small sun, being sliced in half from a silver-gossamer collision they’d been unable to peel from.

The pilot’s death was commemorated only in an ephemeral exhale of frustration and a cuss that didn’t catch enough volume to make it to the wider comms.

<Tick tock, Raider-One.> She said through clenched teeth, hopelessly glancing through the canopy at the silhouette of the X-Wing charging at the Corvette.

She focused on the smorgasbord of red dots ahead of her –– with a mind programmed to systematically categorize, group, and efficiently snap out interceptive opportunities, it was a good distraction to the reality that everytime they thrust themselves into the void.

It kept the fear at bay. Not perfect, but nothing short of death was going to end fear perfectly.

The two Galidraani pilots that had mirrored one another’s flight plans –– that was the nicely predictable thing about Imperials, they appreciated symmetry –– were still immersed in the Dancer Squadron’s position. All recovering from the rattle that had stunned through their battlefield.

<Seven, Nine –– Corral that formation. We'll come in and trim the perimeter.> Loske comm’d through, synchronizing their viewport with her own for a brief assessment before wiping it back to her original. They were still on the perimeters of the port and starboard sides of Dancer’s formation, fractured through it was. And within a heartbeat, the MK IV Fangs were deploying quads of laserfire into the cross-sections of TIEs. Volleys that rippled out with the intent to core through the pilot’s seat between the ion engines.

A few lanced up and off the shields, but the Galidraani were relentless in their pursuits. A deadly duo.

Seven Raiders remained in formation behind Loske, and received the following directive from the XO: <Let’s use that shockwave to our advantage. Don’t give them any chance to recover, close them in from the outside and pick them off. Don't let them break formation or spread out.> Loske heeded her own advice, and nosed her X-Wing down into the fray of TIEs that evaded their assault earlier. She inverted, dove, and came back around to go head-to-head with one just behind the lead TIE.

She boosted power to her forward shields, then pulled a snap-roll that stood the X-Wing on it’s port S-foil that narrowed her profile and would likely allow the first volley of riposte to pass on either side of her position. From there, she’d deploy another proton torpedo at rapidly closing point-blank range; intent on tearing the Interceptor apart.

Nailed it – Loske nudged the stick and shot through the centre of the fiery explosion. Clear on the other side, hot on the lead Interceptor's position once more and intent on painting it with more than just a target this time; but starting with a quad of laserfire on their position.

If the Sith Empire wanted to deploy evasive tactics, threatening the lives of their own squadrons, The Raiders would see it fit to assist in the clean up job.

---

---

ALLIES | NIO | Maynard Treicolt | Legate
ENEMIES | TSE | Nyxeris | Valen Arenais | Lilanna Kelamvor | Alina Tremiru | Darth Banshee | TARGET LOCKED: SV-2121

 

[Eva Betrik]

​

Location: Bitter End, Surface-to-Space Battery
Allies: TSE
Foes: NIO | Hakon Fett

It was Kerelenko lying there; with her night vision active, she could just pick out the man's distinctive mustache. They'd teased him terribly for it, how he got up early every morning to trim and wax the damn thing, but he'd borne the ribbing stoically. It barely fit into his helmet, so impressive was its length and thickness, and Eva wasn't sure why the sergeant let him get away with it... but he did, and Kerelenko claimed that his well-groomed facial hair had tickled the thighs of many a farm girl back on Soullex. Then again, just about every male trooper Eva knew was constantly boasting about all the "action" he got. It was standard military banter, and it couldn't possibly all have been true.

The thought was interrupted when she noticed the long, bloody gash that had brought Kerelenko down.

Eva panicked, trying to raise her rifle and call in to Battery Command all at once... and then froze. A razor-sharp blade had suddenly sprung into existence, right beside her neck. A single twist of the wielder's hand, barely any effort, and he could slice through the gap in her armor between helmet and chestplate. The thin bodyglove beneath would offer little resistance before that razor edge opened her throat; she wouldn't even have time to scream. But he didn't strike, not yet... and Kerelenko was still breathing. She could see the weak rise and fall of his chest. Maybe there was some small chance that she could get them both out of this alive.

Eva just barely turned her head, enough that she could see the blade's wielder out of the corner of her eye. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight - a man in an armored bodysuit, orange and grey, his mask a blank rictus split between the colors. The control codes for the battery, or your life. The young corporal suppressed a panicky laugh. Did this terrifying assassin really think that a rooftop sentry had the control codes for one of the most important defenses on Vjun? Of course, if she told him the truth - that she had no idea what the control codes were - he'd almost certainly just kill her here and now. She needed to be smart about this, or it was all over.

"It's... ah..." Her mind reeled as she searched for a plausible lie. Her first thought was to say that she knew the code, but would only input it for him if he kept her alive to do it... but then he'd probably just torture it out of her, then kill her. What if she said it was gene-locked or fingerprint-identified? No, he'd take her hand and leave her to bleed out. What he'd do to her if she claimed a retinal scan was even more unpleasant to imagine. So she came up with her best guess at an explanation that meant he would need her to keep breathing. "It requires voice print identification," she blurted out. "I'd have to say the command phrase to grant access."

Eva stood frozen, waiting to see how he'd react. "And it has to be a recognized voice," she clarified. Clarif-lied?

 

[DarrVack]

​

Location: Surface, Castle Bast
Objective II: Defense of Castle Bast
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO

Spoiler: Equipment, Units and Ships

Equipment
2x Red Lightsaber
Battle Armour (Holding 75 Gallons of Dioxis)
Mindstone
EWR-52 'Purge' Flamethrower
12x Dioxis Grenades

Units
5x XF-72a
10x Sith-Imperial Probot
2x KS-05
Akguza Guard
3x TG-11 Artillery Droid - Hellpyre

Ships
1 Squadron Ajunta-class StarFortress

Detritus Ren
So they boy knew, it seemed. Knew of the darkness, and that it was growing from within. Yet he was afraid hesitant to rely on it most likely taught to distrust it poisoned by the belief of right and wrong, good and evil, light and dark.

Jin obliged all the same though tentatively moving towards the hulking Sith Juggernaut. With every step, he took the shadows around him grew larger, slowly but steadily swallowing the duo.

What can you offer me?

DarrVack was glowing, a crimson red light flared up within the massive suite that housed the Ugorian. Illuminating the corridor in which they stood.

"Everything" he slowly answered, his words echoing within the gothic halls as their meaning sunk in and became one with a place build on promises like these.

The force was swelling ready to burst like a wave crashing down onto itself as the two entities were now just arms reach apart from each other.

"You seeg de druth, yed you chose do loog away from so much of id. Blaying soldier in dis charade of a war. You musd led go of wad you believe and begin do drusd wad you druly feel"

"You seek the truth, yet you chose to look away from so mo much of it. Playing soldier in this charade of a war. You must let go of what you believe and begin to trust what you truly feel"
​

Slowly and carefully not to startle the child he lowered his clawed gauntlets to a height more easily accessible for the half-human, his opened palm now reached out

"I wond lie do you, I gan nod show you de druths you seeg. Only de force gan reveal dis do you. Bud I gan give you a glimbse of wad is bossible if you were do aggebt yourself for who you are insdead of subbressing wad has been righdfully inside you all along."

"I won't lie to you, I can not show you the truths you seek. Only the force can reveal this to you. But I can give you a glimpse of what is possible if you were to accept yourself for who you are instead of suppressing what has been rightfully inside you all along."​

The living slime stirred inside its shell, and all the darkness he had absorbed would stir with it. So much so it bled into the mortal realm and Jin could stand witness as the space around them brick for brick began to hum and tremble an orchestra of stone and mortar. The room seemed to move inwards now, becoming smaller and tighter.

A bubble of boiling pure power formed around them, small sparks came to life and danced and hissed before disappearing again and it truly seemed like this one section of the corridor was shut off from the rest of the world.

A pocket crossroad in space and time.

"Dage my hand, and mage gondacd wid de dargness, beeg indo de soul of dis gasdle, and mage dis momend your firsd drue lesson on gondrol"

"Take my hand, and make contact with the darkness, peek into the soul of this castle, and make this moment your first true lesson on control"​

-----

The Akugza guard and squad of mechanical helping hands continued to stay busy feeding the three war machines that had been fueling the death count of the battlefield beyond. So many had fallen victim to the unchecked firepower of the three Artillery droids that had been left in peace sowing chaos and destruction.

Whole trench lines were now filled with a grotesque red stew of the unfortunate souls to have been entrapped by the Hellpyre.
Tears and roars of pain as the acidic liquid they fired had splashed onto Imperial soldiers making their way up the beachhead and burned through armor and flesh alike until it dripped out of the lifeless husks into the sand.

Tanks and other vehicles abandoned and left lifeless after EMP charges exploded in range rendering them useless.

Charred bodies and ground along the entire stretch of kilometer-wide sand dunes, the squadron of low flying StarFortresses having endured brilliantly as they made dive after dive to drop their explosive freight into the Imperials below.

Thousands had perished today.

Feeding a power many of those who had lain down their lives did not even begin to understand. A storm had been brewing since the first death that had occurred. Drop by drop they were all now doomed to drown in the darkness. Giving birth to something entirely new in the process.


-----
Izoshi Djorn Bline Djonas Val Kolson Vrask

The underground halls of the castle were flooding with droids. A self-defense force that had come to life to defend their master's fortress time and time again.

This was no place for the living.

Probots that had made it onto the scene where the Special Operations Officers had first opened fire began self-exploding wreaking havoc and setting the scene for the five Organic Anihilaotrs to spring into action and onto Knights and Troopers alike who left the guard down just a moment too long.

Most notably though were the two hulking Goliath Stampede droids "Hammer" and "Stronghold" who were shorty after their appearance in the caverns greeted with blaster fire and EMPs.

The terrifying duo was interlinked to move and learn simultaneously.

Shaking off the initial attacks they would answer in their own terrible display of power letting lose their arsenal of laser cannons attempting to kill any and all live in those tunnels.

Hammer saw himself under too much fire for his duranimum-durasteel composite body plating to hold and swayed only to run into the Knights parlor trick which saw him buried under rubble.

Stronghold witnessing this and assessing the situation decided to go against his master's initial command and let lose an entire salvo of mini rockets into the ceilings above.

The initial fissure would grow from a scratch to a festering wound in the bulwark bringing it all down upon the men, women, and droids below.

Be gone

Were his last thoughts as he like so many others become part of the Castle Bast, one with the ancient stone and dirt that had laid claim to so many lives before it.

The invaders fortunate enough to somehow make it out of the leveled debris now had the exit shut off forced to travel deeper into the darkness of the Castles lower levels.

 

[Rika Hiro]

LADY_SILENCE_
COMPNOR
VJUN
Tags:// Darth Daiara

​

"When you breathed your last amidst the fires of the academy you once called home, in that fleeting moment of pain, did you not foresee your pointless act cost the lives of your friends and classmates."

The glow of the girl's sabre painted Yubari in an ominous shade of blood crimson red; the HRDs slender pale hand moved to its security belt and unclipped its blaster pistol, dropping it to the rain-streaked pavement with a muted thud. It took a few more steps closer until it was almost in the Acolytes face, yet still maintained a gap. Distant enough to reason with the unreasonable girl, yet close enough to snap her neck and be done with the directive.


"Don't do what your other friends did; make it easy for yourself; come with us, we will make you whole again."


Yubari offered an encouraging grin, extending an arm out in invitation to the Sith acolyte, the other arm resting firmly on her hip just in reach of its combat knife. First, the HRD would take the girl away and show them the error of the Sith Order, the error of their ways. Then, they would be whole again and revealed the majesty and power of the Imperial dogma. Finally, she would come to learn that Yubari's kind were not demons, merely angels and messengers of the Imperator sent to correct mistakes and guide the lost and damned to the light of Imperialism. Cara Dornian had resisted, and had fought Yubari bitterly to the end, and for the Bakurans transgressions, she had been made to see the light and was left to bleed out in the great white fields of Helgard. Though she may have lived, Yubari would soon see to it that Ms Dornian would be appropriately seen to in time and replaced. The HRDs eyes flashed in a shade of mechanical red and grey, and she spoke out once more to the girl.

"You cannot hold back the tide with a broom forever, Ms Pavanos."

 

[Seydou of Thyrsus]

S H R I E K _ H A W K
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
VJUN '65 | CASTLE BAST
WIDOWMAKER

skira [mando'a] - settling scores, revenge. feud (different to vengeance - more personal)​

"Keep your helmet on Vizsla, just a bit of shell fire. Nothing to get excited about."

To that quip he gave her a long glare from behind the emerald T-visor; he could never get used to his Mandalorian kin's characteristic dark humor in the midst of battle. Amon's father was hardly a social person given his sociopath and brutal nature. Ronan had honed his son into a lethal weapon, stripping him of most traits bearing humanity. His service with the Antarian Rangers, then with the New Imperials, and after with the Alliance Defence Force had managed to - at least slightly - alter that damage turning him into his own person.

"Right, so going off this, security terminals have this component added to their wiring to make indirect slicing nearly impossible. So following these paths will net us a terminal." She pointed down the hall, before gripping her hand around her rifle. "Time to make your pay Vizsla, keep your eyes out." She spoke, before moving forward, prepared to run into more droid resistance, since everything with a spine was probably in the process of running or dying right about now.

The Vizsla traced her pointing finger with his eyes, the scanners of his HUD shifting between different overlays before he interlinked with Azula's droids and obtained their destination - the terminal's location. Leaving behind the scrap of Sith-Imperial droids, they ventured deeper into Castle Bast with Amon taking point with his darksaber ready to strike at any obstacle. As they hurried towards the terminal which ought to hold access to intel related to Azula's fractured family. With each step drawing nearer to their destination, Amon strengthened his resolve against the growing eerie sensation of the Sith castle; whatever it forebode he steeled his will. Whatever his own predicament was to be today, he would make sure to set the way forward for Azula to reunite with her kin and lay vengeance upon the Sith.

Their route ahead seemed deserted, unusually abandoned.

"It's way too easy." he stated abruptly halting in place and scanning the area around them. "I can't help but feel we are purposefully allowed to draw deeper into the castle." Was the tide of the battle outside turning in their favor...or was it a trap?

ALLIES | NIO | Azula Ordo [DIRECT] | Djonas Val | Kolson Vrask | Joren Loft | Izoshi | Djorn Bline
ENEMIES | TSE | DarrVack | Laertia Io

 

[Darth Daiara]

VJUN STREETS| Rika Hiro​

"You cannot hold back the tide with a broom forever, Ms Pavanos."

Her stomach dropped.

That name.

No one was suppose to know that name.

The people that it belonged to were to be protected. They had saved her. They were good people. She sacrificed so they didn't have to know the pain of losing each other.

But that secret was over.


When Asa said their name, Aradia saw red.

"Watch me," she spat, her yellow saber snapping quickly through the air. Asa's extended arm was in its way. Aradia didn't slow down long enough to see which part of the woman she dismantled, she just heard the the hefty sound of body parts hitting the ground and knew it wasn't enough.

She pivoted, aiming to take the head clean off the android.

That's what this thing was.

Metal.


And yet the smell of burning flesh still hit Aradia's nose. Her nerves rattled as the decapitation missed. It was pure willpower that kept her from up and running. She knew how this went. Kill it now, or be overpowered by its inhuman capabilities.

Momentum dug her saber into speeder turned on its side. Her stance was left momentarily broken. Her arms were tangled. She could feel the small window she had to shut down the HDR close with alarming speed.

She let out a scream and released a pillar of fire from the hand trapped under her sword arm. Desperation burned through her in tangible tingles.

Time was up.

Spoiler: Chapter 1: Zaavik

SPACE, OVER VJUN | Darth Daiara​

Bright streaks condensed into singular points as the ship left the egress of hyperspace. Gray wedges against the void loomed in the distance, throwing red stripes of fire between one another. Zaavik took his hand from the hyperthrottle and quickly attended to several switches before grasping the co-pilot's yoke tightly. A chime sounded as atmospheric shields activated in preparation to enter the Vjun's stratosphere.

Turbulence shook the ship like a low-magnitude earthquake. A sigh of relief escaped the Zeltron's lips as the impression that they'd managed to slip past the naval theater above dawned. Their proximity exit from hyperspace appeared to pay off despite the risk. Until it didn't. The sound of interloping Ion Engines screaming clawed beneath the sounds of their own ship. A sudden jolt, crack, and rumble from within the ship killed snuffed out his relief in an instant.

"Chit!" Alarms began to cry out from the console in desperation. A holo diagram of the ship projected, sections of the aft near the drives all flashing red. The magnitude of turbulence had increased by a factor of ten. Zaavik threw on his pilot's headset and slowly fought the rumbling and came to an unbalanced stand within the cockpit.

<Keep us steady!> he shouted through the microphone, his voice vocoding directly into the next headset to be heard above the sounds of a collapsing ship. He staggered and wobbled against the unsteady ground, teetering with falling objects and sliding furniture. After a long stumble, he braced himself around the ladder to the dorsal quad laser turret and began to climb.

A sudden flash of heat was followed by a hard impact across his back. When his vision refocused, he was supine facing an inferno engulfing the upper part of the ladder. The headset crumbled and slid off as he raised his head slowly. He clasped one hand over the far side of his face, a burning sensation stinging at every nerve. An unurgent groan drowned beneath the alarms and rumbling as he slowly returned to his feet in a daze.

Snapping out of it, he readjusted his plan and started to claw through a disheveled interior toward the engine bay. A cryo-extinguisher that hd fallen off a wall bracing was promptly scooped up. He shot the carbon dioxide stream over every flame in his way until he made it to the drives. Tibanna was so thick on the air that he immediately wretched, coughing up a fit afterward.

Leaning on a wall, he turned his head up for a glance at what was left of their propulsion. This was it, wasn't it?

SPACE, OVER VJUN | Zaavik Perl

They were going down.​

She stared numbly at her screen as the propulsions went offline. She could watch their decent on the holograph-- the digital horizon rushed quickly towards then, while Imperial fighters closed in to finish the job. Didn't they see there was nothing Aradia could do?

The ship's alarms vibrated through her, demanding action. She wanted to claw at her ears and peel their shrill echoes out of her mind, but there wasn't enough time for that.

"Zaavik," she croaked, her thoughts snapping to the explosion that had rocked the ship. He wasn't back yet. Panic sent her tearing out of the seat, her hands digging into furniture as she propelled herself out of the cock pit.

Gravity fought against her. The forty five degree tilt at which the vessel fell tugged at her limbs and dragged her back. The ship was small but the distance between her and the engine room felt insurmountable at that moment.

She breathed the force into her limbs and willed strength into her steps. If fate didn't want her to reach him, it would have to try a lot harder than that.

Step by step... she pushed forward. Another explosion rocked the ship-- a hit from the enemy fighters-- but the hulls held firm.

A scream of exertion tore through her as she pulled herself over a wall. Trapped there by the degree of the ship's fall was Zaavik. She crumbled next to him and heaved for air. A small voice in the back of her mind chimed that their time was numbered.

Her head lulled to face him, gravity pressing her flat into the wall like a lime being juiced.

All the effort they had put into survival, and now... Did he see it? Did he understand?

Her chest squeezed with terror as she stared down their death.

She wasn't done living yet. ​

PLUMMETING TOWARD VJUN | Darth Daiara​

As the moments passed, every attempt he made to peel himself from the wall grew more and more difficult. Like moving through clay, Zaavik's hand came forward and clasped around a jutting section of pipe. His cold prosthetic sizzled against the heated durasteel, but his grip didn't falter. As his muscles strained, he seemed to lift in slow motion. Teeth grit together, he began to shout with exertion through them.

The ship was suddenly jostled again. The pipe came loose, and with it, Zaavik was pulled upward and slapped pinned against the wall again. The force of their descent kept him stuck like a fly in a glue trap. He writhed, struggled, shouted, cursed, fought battles with every muscle in his body just to peel away.

Calling upon the force, he reached again. The cockpit seemed an impossible distance away, but it was their singular hope. He gripped his hand into a corner wall, the crushgaunt tech on his prosthetic crumpling the panel beneath like paper. The makeshift handhold gave him the grip needed to pull upward. His body peeled off the back wall slowly until only his feet were flat upon it.

He tucked on arm over the now side-ways threshold into the room he'd been trapped in. Like hanging off a cliff, he dangled with his toes just inches above where he'd been pinned beside Aradia. Over his shoulder, he slowly turned against the forces on his body to look her way. As he reached down toward her in an attempt to help, his arm was whipped sharply downward. His shoulder popped almost loud enough to be heard above the blaring of death's descent.

Yet another jolt. Zaavik was ripped from his hold and sent back toward the wall. He tucked his chin, but it did little to stop his head from slamming back with whiplash after his back and shoulder. The arm he had offered became trapped beneath his torso, pain spiking from shoulder to finger. The second concussive daze in a matter of minutes took the fight out of him.

Once the stars had faded from his vision, he was surprised to discover they were still falling. His neck muscles strained as he looked to his side. An apologetic look was offered Aradia's way. As best he could manage with his face subject the same g-force as the rest of his body, at least. His free hand slithered down and over hers. Fingers fought through invisible clay to close around the much smaller extremity.

'Trusting the Force to keep you safe' always sounded like brainless rhetoric before. Now, though, it wasn't like he had any other options. He clenched his eyes shut as tight as possible and hoped.

CRASHING INTO VJUN | Zaavik Perl

They were going to die.​

He was an idiot for trying to resist it. They could barely defy the Imperials, what chance did they have against physics?

He tried to jump off the wall anyway. G-force brought him crashing back. Her teeth rattled as his shoulder cracked. He didn't have to scream for her to feel it echoing through the force. Chills speckled over her skin. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see yet another friend die.


Terror clawed at her chest like a wild animal. She couldn't move, the invisible force sat on her chest like a thousand speeder. Better gravity than an Imperial.



Fingers encircled her own. She jolted in shock and opened her eyes to find him staring back. The touch was electric, her skin tingling as she felt him brush across her mind. Clammy fingers gripped his back.

Hope blossomed through her, from his skin to hers. It chased away her fears with ease that surprised her. She felt everything he did, just like in the escape pod, when they had combined their energies and found the strength to...-

Her lips parted at the idea.

Dark coalesced with light, forging a shield around them.

And then impact tore them apart.​

That which does not kill us...
VJUN CRASHSITE | Darth Daiara ​

Facing a blood-black void with only a ringing in his ears, Zaavik assumed he was dead. It only occurred to him moments later when he questioned his ability to even be conscious, that he was, in fact, still breathing. As consciousness fully returned, so too did the pain in his everything. He still couldn't see anything. Wondering if he'd been blinded, he felt around to deduce that he was buried in wreckage. Miraculously, somehow alive and not pinned.

Maybe there was something to the rhetoric after all.

Green plasma sparked to life, the light of his saber illuminating the crevice he was buried beneath. An open palm pressed against the piece above him, testing the weight at every spot he could reach. Deciding on a point, he sunk the saber through and began to cut. A firm, sustained extension of his legs with feet flat on the panel eventually pried it free, opening the crevice up to the air outside.

The light sent pain into his eyes. It traveled back and transitioned into a throbbing in his skull. Getting to his feet was a monumental effort. His shoulder ached, the sensation clearly familiar as dislocation. He threw himself against an upright section of hull after lining up the lunge. Bones forced themselves into place with a pop, evoking loud curses and sounds of agony.

Staggered around in a daze, blood running down his face from the crown of his skull, he came to a realization. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden exhale coming with sudden desperation. "Oh chit," he muttered. Stumbling around through smoky haze and scattered flames he looked around frantically. "Aradia!?" he shouted over the crackling of infernos and distant sounds of war.

He reached out with the force, searching for any sign of life buried beneath steel and smoke.

VJUN CRASHSITE | Zaavik Perl
​

"Zaavik! Zaavik!"

Her shrill shriek tore up her throat. The ship's metal panels had come down on her. She couldn't see anything. All she could hear was her own panicked heartbeat, and her whimpers... she couldn't help the whimpers. She didn't like tight spaces. They reminded her of cargo holds at slaver's bay.

Her shoulder throbbed. She could feel the warm liquid ooze around a rod of metal embedded into her flesh. It was deep. She didn't look.

The very notion of being impaled again drove her into a frenzy. It was Kyber dark all over again, but she wasn't that same naive girl. She wasn't weak anymore. Lock down her quivering muscles and forced in a breath.

She held it, pushing through the terror... the desperation... the pain... until her desire to live overruled all else.

She released the breath. A telekinetic wave rippled out from around her, battering against the rubble that would burry her alive.

It wasn't enough.

VJUUN CRASHSITE | Darth Daiara​

A muffled voice rose from somewhere. It was hardly audible beneath conflagrating roars. So much so that Zaavik couldn't decipher where it had come from. His head darted around frantically, trying to replay the sound in his mind to trace its origin. No luck. He called out for her again, louder this time, hoping that he'd get an answer. Instead of words, a force signature replied, touching his mind as wreckage on his peripheral shifted.

His body pivoted with a snap and started forward in a short-lived sprint. Boots slid on dust and dirt, halting before a jagged mountain of durasteel, wire, and pipe. At this distance, despite the thunderous throbbing in his head and ringing in his ears that made feeling anything else monumental task, he could sense her.

Viridesence snapped to life. Deliberate cuts and strikes quelled sharp ends and metallic obstructions. Blood mixed with sweat and trickled down over his eyes, yet he continued despite the stinging. What was once a mountain was becoming a pile. Feet slipped beneath the mound loose metal and cut away material. Jagged edges cut at legs and feet, making the climb all that more difficult.

A deliberate shove brought a gust from the force to clear away the excess, just enough to see an arm exposed from beneath larger pieces of what must have been the ship's cockpit previously. Surging forward, he reached down and grabbed her wrist, fingers deliberately placed for a pulse. The feeling of the arm moving was an instant indicator well before he could even begin to notice a vital sign.

Relief made itself known with an exhale. He let go and peeked through the gap just after a quick glance around the makeshift structure of carnage. Even through the opening, the crevice was so dark he could hardly see more than the side of her face.

"You okay?" Probably the dumbest question he'd asked in years. Something in the back of his mind, paranoid, needed some affirmation that she was still alive. If her presence in the force and ability to move weren't enough of an indication. Stress and a concussion were making him far from completely rational. A voice, even hers, would be the most reassuring. Even if just to remind him that he wasn't dead himself.

VJUUN CRASHSITE | Zaavik Perl​

Light.

The heat of his saber seared away the liquid streaming down her face. She shied away, grimacing against the harsh contrast.

"Zaavik," she choked, her fingers reaching up for him. She wanted to lift herself out. Freedom felt so close, but the bar in her shoulder kept her trapped.

It was impossible not to think of Kyber Dark. She could feel Bastion's brick wall scraping her behind her.

She could feel the courtyard statue carve through her gut. Her mind played tricks on her. Phantom blood bubbled up her throat, the scars of her psyche not letting her forget.

This was not the time to lose her wits.

"My shoulder, I'm trapped," She groped at him, her grip like a vice as it found his sleeve. She was pale, her grip clammy. There was a wild edge to her eyes as she tried to claw herself out.

"Don't leave me like this. You can't leave me like this."

VJUN CRASHSITE | Darth Daiara​

Zaavik grimaced at her demeanor, almost frozen as she snatched his sleeve. "Hey, I'm not going to leave you there, get ahold of yourself!" he admonished urgently. The gravity of the predicament was starting to really settle in past the concussive daze behind his eyes. Releasing his grip, he dropped his saber toward the floor. The pressure switch sent the blade back into the hilt as it clattered to the ground. The freed extremity gently pried her fingers from his sleeve. "I'm gonna get you out, just hold tight."

Uncrouching, he took a step back and called his weapon back to his hand. There was still one large piece of hull wreckage to deal with. It could have been so easy as to cut it to pieces, but that risked cutting Aradia or dripping molten material into the crevice. Retracting his backward step, he came forward and braced his hands against the edge. A long shot, but he had to unpin her somehow.

Every muscle that could contribute began to strain. A sustained grunt reverberated behind clenched teeth as fruitless attempts to lift went on for over a minute. No amount of adjustments or repositioning made any more difference than a minuscule budge. Labored breathing only paused for frustrated cursing.

An idea struck him. Zaavik went into a searching frenzy, digging through scraps until he found a long, metallic bar. The joints in his prosthetic fingers whirred with strain as the knockoff crushgaunt tech crimped the end until it was as flat as they could manage. Metal clanged on metal as he struck into the crack between the pinning piece and an object beneath.

Ten pummels later, it was wedged forcefully between. Using the object as a fulcrum, he positioned his body above and forced his arms down. The weight of his torso added enough force to create a loud pop after a few seconds. The large sheet that had Arada pinned shifted out from between other structures and skid askew. One good shove sent it sliding down the pile and out of the way.

Finally.

He climbed the pile again, tripping at least three times on the way up. Kneeling over Aradia, he could finally behold the worst of it. A stray rod had impaled through her shoulder from underneath. "Ah chit," he lamented involuntarily. The green blade returned again. Slowly, carefully, he'd cut the spar as close to her as he could safely achieve.

"Okay, uh-" The utterance held in a prolonged note. He was grimacing again, mouth slack. "Look, there's no easy way around it; this is gonna suck." His body dropped down, scooping her up beneath the opposite shoulder and her ribs on the impaled side. Without warning, he lifted and ripped straight upward off the stake. Unfamiliar blood ran down his arm as he dragged her a few feet to the side and propped her against the sturdy remnants of the ship's landing gear.

He dropped, splaying onto the ground opposite her, head spinning. Allowing himself to wallow in agony momentarily as if he'd forgotten they were in the middle of a warzone.

The agony was nothing compared to the relief.

The open sky made her feel weightless. Without the walls holding her down she could float up

up​

​

up...​

​

​

and never be touched again.​

The panic slowly released the muscles around her chest, allowing her to heave the fresh air unhindered. Her thoughts flowed easier, her wits returning to her. They had survived. She groped at her shoulder and turned, straining to see Zaavik clearly for the first time.


"Are you ok?" She gritted. As the shock let up, the pain began to creep through her. There were methods for dealing with it. She employed them at once, but it did little to stop the blood flowing freely from her system.

The kolcta geltab. Bloody fingers scrambled for her pockets, trying to pull the life saving medicine out for both of them.

"Here," she rasped, handing him a blood stained packet. Better than bacta, Ashin Cardé Varanin 's words echoed through her, the woman's lessons still with her.

The medicine was more expensive than gold, but worth every credit. Its healing effects would make a substantial difference in no less than five minutes. She shoved her own pill into her mouth and tried to force her way to her feet.

The battle for them hadn't even started yet.

VJUN CRASHSITE | Darth Daiara​

Zaavik's chest rose and fell with labored breaths. Still supine, his eyes drifted toward Aradia as she addressed him. "I'll live," he dismissed with strained, breathy timbre. Everything ached. Cuts on limbs still burned, fractured ribs still brought agony. His head was foggy enough to make everything happening seem dreamlike.

He sat up, slowly returning to reality from dazed anguish. Seeing the hole in her shoulder, he began to blink as if he'd not realized the severity before. Taking the packet she'd offered with robotic movements, he hardly realized what he was accepting. "We gotta do something about that," he asserted. The pill packet rested in his open palm still. He stared down, realizing what it was.

"This stuff is good, but it's not a miracle." He threw off what was left of his now tattered jacket. A quick slice of a freed saber cut off a sleeve. What was left of it was discarded. The strike suit he'd taken with him after deserting on Ziost held up much better beneath it, but it was still in rough shape regardless.

The stray sleeve fluttered through the air toward her at a swing of his arm. "Bandage that up." The suggestion came in a tone that seemed at least twice removed from reality. He stood, swallowing the would-be almost-miracle pill while trying to stifle the spins in his whole body.

VJUN CRASHSITE | Zaavik Perl​

She grabbed the sleeve, catching one end in her teeth as she tried to get it around her shoulder. Her eyes followed him as she did so. He looked distant. Confused, but whole. She'd take it over dead any day, but it didn't make what they were up against any easier.

"Hey." She stepped into his field of view, her gaze alert and boiling with the pain she suppressed.

"Get your head in the game, we're here for the Imperials, remember?" The feckers had already gotten the better of them once. They couldn't let them get it again.

She shoved his sleeve into his chest and turned, giving access to the wound for help. She surveyed the scene as she did so, noticing the streets they had landed in for the first time. She had spent hours studying them on their way over. They were familiar.

"We're close."

Rain hit her eye. She flinched, a burning sensation ripping through her. Her head slowly tilted up.

"Feth. We need move." She jerked away from his work on her shoulder, the kolcta geltab pumping new found strength through her system. She didn't need to concentrate so hard on keeping her pain away. The edge was already starting to creep away.

See gripped at his arm, her gaze severe.

"Can you handle this one?"

It was almost as if she'd abandon the mission if he couldn't. Almost.

Shoving him in a crevice worked just as well.

*afk -> 5/24 for camping, sorry for the slight speedy posts on mah personal story Rika Hiro it's time bae, tagging you in. come at me

VJUN CRASHSITE | Darth Daiara Ingrid L'lerim​

Zaavik's eyes unglazed. Untranced from the acidic squall falling beyond the cover of shattered steel, he glanced down. A distinct thumping still nagged the back of his eyes. Expression shifted from daze to forced attention when meeting Aradia's accost.



"I'm here for everyone," he countered sharply. Goal alignment didn't translate into a perfect lack of contention. Out of the two of them, Zaavik had the broader contumacious horizons. He wasn't going to waste any energy hoping she'd come around to the same oppositional nonpartisan. His gaze lingered, planting a flag firmly atop his hill. If they weren't in such a dire strait, he would have counted on verbal backlash. Would have put a thousand credits on it, even.

Eyes snapped front, back to the drizzle, back to the task at hand. Arguments would have to be saved for later. It went without saying, although the urge to implore her regardless clawed at the tip of his tongue. He chomped it, squeezing the life out of it with one gentle clamp of restraint. No time for that.



Whites flashed openly with a grin. It smelled as self-satisfied as chit did of itself. "I've done more with worse," he assured, suddenly more full of himself than usual. It was the truth, but that did little to make him seem any less vain.

"I'll find you when my part is done. We'll worry about getting off this rock once everything's in place." He gingerly tugged his arm out of her grasp. Stepping from beneath overhanging wreckage, he rose a hand to manifest a small dome against the acidic fall. His shape flickered, fading from visibility after a pause. Rain shifted as his personal force-umbrella floated unconcealed. "Oh. Also-" His voice called out, seemingly disembodied from his unperceivable figure.

"Don't die."

The Rogue Shadow skulked away.

Ingrid L'lerim ok we fight now

Spoiler: Chapter 2: Asa

LADY_SILENCE_
COMPNOR
V J U N
Tags:// Darth Daiara

MUSIC

To remove a weed and prevent it from growing back and causing ruin to your garden. You must remove it root and stem every time to deny a new generation of undesirable invasive plants rising from the soil it inhabits. The same directive applied to the youth of the Sith Order who bore the title of acolyte wherever they were lightsaber trained or not, under the directive of the higher committee, the Sith order was to be exterminated from the highest echelons to the lowest roots and stems. Hundreds and well into the thousands of Sith knights, acolytes and even lords had perished in such a way. Promptly killed or disappeared when the rear units of the Imperial army came to did away with them, some preferring to dispose of them in a myriad of gruesome ways, and those deemed important were shuttled off into the supervision of COMPNOR. The HRD had seen off dozens of the Sith Order by its own hands; it did not discriminate, nor did it show such inane notions as mercy. All perished under the cold dead gaze of the ERIS HRDs sent to hunt them down.


The HRD wandered like a solitary ghost amidst the ruins, acid rain rolling down milk-white skin; if it hurt, it did not notice nor stop for shelter. It was here for something else, a red-headed acolyte who had escaped death many times and killed many servants of the Imperator. But not today, an order had been sent down to remove the problem or capture it in the field and send it back to the superiors. Whoever else present was expendable in the eyes of the directive and the HRDs superiors. Only the acolyte mattered. And Yubari would not leave without the acolyte, dead or alive it didn't matter. ​

VJUN CRASHSITE | Zaavik Perl | Rika Hiro​

She watched him walk away, a sense of disconnect filling the space that his absence had created.

She still didn't think separating was a good idea, but arguing with Zaavik when he had made up his mind was like yelling at rock. She focused her energy onto herself and looked around at the destroyed remains of her ship. They had been shot down with relentless precision; something about it felt wrong. Had the imperials known who they were?

It hardly mattered now.

She set off from the crash site, her skin burning with each drop of acid rain. Her ship was destroyed. She almost wished Kaalia would yell at over it, at least then she would know the woman still cared.

It was an inappropriate time to think of her former master, but it had become harder not to. Every time Zaavik mentioned home-- his training-- this stupid war-- she realized how much a part of her was missing. What was an acolyte without a master?

Fecked.



She walked unaccompanied through the streets. In the distance, the dome of an important capitol building shone. Acid rolled down its metal surface, the rain burning everything that stood in its path. She ignored the pain itching across her skin and jumped down from a building's ledge.

Something tickled the back of her mind.

She looked to the left, her eyes meeting with Rika Hiro as the two came face to face. Aradia tensed, her hand going to saber. She did not pull it, her wariness almost tactile as she summarized the woman. ...Citizen... or threat... ? She took a testing step forward.

The woman was in her way.

LADY_SILENCE_
COMPNOR
VJUN
Tags:// Darth Daiara

Mirroring the acolyte in kind, the Replicant stepped in front of the redhead and directly blocked her path. The HRD cold gaze locking with the other woman's, unflinching and dead in its intensity. Save for a standard-issue blaster pistol and a combat knife, the Atrisian Replicant had come loosely armed onto the planet. Minimalist in approach, yet optimal, no more, no less was needed to get the job done. Any more, and it was a liability to the mission and task at hand. Opting not to reach for either one of her weapons, the HRD took one step forward and stopped where she stood. The heavy patter of acid rain and the distant thrum of artillery fire the only sounds that occupied the air; otherwise it was deadly silent in this unremarkable street.



"Greetings."



A lone phrase broke the tense silence, delivered in the usual neutral robotic-like tone that Yubari spoke with when not on missions. A small sinister smile forming on her blank face as she took another small step forward, they were here for the acolyte and the Zeltron dissident that had caused the agency quite some curiosity on both their respective activities.




​

VJUN StREETS| Rika Hiro​

"Greetings."

The hair on Aradia's arms rose.

The woman stepped forward. She stepped back, warning bells ringing inside her. The sinister smile eroded Aradia's nerves. It was inhuman. She tried to gauge the situation but found she could sense nothing. The woman was either force dead, or...

Oh chit.

Aradia turned tail, her feet pounding the slick pavement before another step could be taken. She knew exactly what Rika Hiro was. It was not a fate she cared to tempt again. They were suppose to be myths. She had to get back, she had to out, she had to-- Zaavik. Her steps faltered, adrenaline tearing at her chest.

No. No.

'It's a trap!'

She stood frozen, concentrating on the singular, desperate warning. She was never strong with mental words, but her panic gave her all the strength she needed to trade her retreat for his. What precious head start she had was lost. She steeled herself, her saber snapping into her hands as she turned to face Rika Hiro head on.

Zaavik could pay her back by getting them out.

Preferably now.

LADY_SILENCE_
COMPNOR
VJUN
Tags:// Darth Daiara

​

"When you breathed your last amidst the fires of the academy you once called home, in that fleeting moment of pain, did you not foresee your pointless act cost the lives of your friends and classmates."

The glow of the girl's sabre painted Yubari in an ominous shade of blood crimson red; the HRDs slender pale hand moved to its security belt and unclipped its blaster pistol, dropping it to the rain-streaked pavement with a muted thud. It took a few more steps closer until it was almost in the Acolytes face, yet still maintained a gap. Distant enough to reason with the unreasonable girl, yet close enough to snap her neck and be done with the directive.


"Don't do what your other friends did; make it easy for yourself; come with us, we will make you whole again."


Yubari offered an encouraging grin, extending an arm out in invitation to the Sith acolyte, the other arm resting firmly on her hip just in reach of its combat knife. First, the HRD would take the girl away and show them the error of the Sith Order, the error of their ways. Then, they would be whole again and revealed the majesty and power of the Imperial dogma. Finally, she would come to learn that Yubari's kind were not demons, merely angels and messengers of the Imperator sent to correct mistakes and guide the lost and damned to the light of Imperialism. Cara Dornian had resisted, and had fought Yubari bitterly to the end, and for the Bakurans transgressions, she had been made to see the light and was left to bleed out in the great white fields of Helgard. Though she may have lived, Yubari would soon see to it that Ms Dornian would be appropriately seen to in time and replaced. The HRDs eyes flashed in a shade of mechanical red and grey, and she spoke out once more to the girl.

"You cannot hold back the tide with a broom forever, Ms Pavanos."

 

[Vesta]

TO VILLAINS​

Vjun

Primo Victoria: Beachhead Madine​

Location: Castle Bast​

Equipment: Lightsaber | A Knife​

Allies: The Sith Empire | Darth Daiara ​

Enemies: New Imperial Order | Nukth Kelga'an | Rika Hiro ​

"Of course I won't." She replied coolly, a hand lifting as the thermal detonator was flung to hold it in mid-air halfway between the two of them as it exploded. "How could I ever hope to succeed against a man with so much hate in his heart?" The Sith asked, tilting her head to the side curiously. The men that were arriving on-scene were, of course, not at all hidden - those without the force often forgot the sorts of senses one with it might employ. "You would have made such a brilliant Sith, a man ruled by his hatred - even if it is hate for us, hate it is all the same."

Lifting her lightsaber up towards her chest, a casual stance one might erroneously correlate with Makashi, the Shi'ido took her gaze off of the soldier and looked towards the saber in her hand, the grip of her other hand tightening around the knife it clutched at her side. "Little toy soldiers marching into their deaths because of a hatred they do not understand, led on by strings they cannot see by masters they do not know. That's all your Imperial Order is, dear little one, and when I devour you I will consume the flesh of each and every one of your friends hiding behind those walls." The words had hardly finished leaving her lips when she was on the move, her body shifting in size and shape as her species was wont to do, reducing her size to make herself a much smaller target - resembling a much younger Vesta in stature, an experience she had missed out on due to the unique circumstances of her rather unorthodox birth, or creation depending on the point of view.

Still, the knife in her hand reminded her that she didn't have the time to waste with him, nor did she have the liberty to stay and play - not that she'd need to, knowing what was soon to arrive. She grit her teeth, torn between the desire to gorge herself on the fear they'd feel in the final moments that death took them and the desire to meet her mother for the first time. The latter wouldn't be possible today, at least not on Vjun - she knew quite well that her mother had been a prime target for the Imperial Order almost immediately after its inception, especially when she'd chosen to unite with the Yuuzhan Vong - but it would require much more care than the ruthless instinct she nearly gave into as she sprinted towards the soldier that'd thrown the detonator her way.

Eyes closed, if only for a moment, and she cursed how the man would perceive this - as she darted around him rather than at him, perhaps as much to his confusion as to her chagrin - likely as an act of fear or mercy. "Tell your Imperator that my mother returns. Braith Achlys if he desires a name." She whispered into his mind, telepathically, whilst a sweeping gesture of her lightsaber released a telekinetic blast against the wall at his side strong enough to expose the interior of the corridor to the elements - and more importantly to give her place to leap from.

"Do not pursue me or you will die doing so."

She doubted it needed to be said, certainly she'd be considered a Sith Lord going AWOL or something of the sort to him - she doubted he'd pursue her out of the castle when he prize was surely further in - but it was as much to her benefit, from the perspective of time gained, for him to be deterred from going after her as it was a benefit to his chances of surviving the day not to. Well, at least from the logical line of thought present in someone unaware of what exactly was bound to happen in Castle Bast.

Running away would at least make both his threat and her retort true, in a manner of thinking.

Still, in the same fluid movement she had taken to sprint around him and lash out at the wall she jumped - chaos beneath her and above, and now behind - surrounded in a familiar sphere of iridescent light as she fell towards the ground below.

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

It was time.

The writhing, nigh endless power of the Nether at his fingertips coursed throughout the Tower that embraced The Shaper. The air singing with the power of unfettered darkness, writhing infinitely within his grasp, his eyes burning with barely contained exertion as the Flaming Eye gazed skyward all the more. It's pupil a bottomless void that shrunk and contracted to gaze upon the beacon his loyal Lady Marrow carried to a suitable vantage. The beacon would glow as it flew through the air to Aaran Tafo and even before it met his hands would the Shaper's head fall back, his mouth open, and his eyes hollow to bottomless pits as the entirety of his form would become engulfed in darkness. Seeping and leaking from him like a formless, weightless liquid that cascaded along the infinitesimaly intricate symbols and weavings along the tower's form.

The darkness would spill over the Tower's obsidian form like a silent wave. A cold, dark and surprisingly gentle embrace as it washed over Pandora , Sabine Delacroix and all the myriad of those loyal to the Empire held within. The Tower's form on Corbos turning into naught but a lightless, reflection-barren surface save for the wavering form of the Flaming Eye that would, in a moment, expanding and engulf the singular dark, featureless form. Even it's endless, perilous flame vanishing in but a moment. Fel murmurings and guttural incantations echoing from the Beacon in the young knight's hand as, in an instant, a singular pulse of intense energy would shatter the object in his grasp.

The Emperor had come.

Rending the fabric of the Force itself the Tower of Saud'Akute would emerge from the Nether onto Vjun near the Marrow and Aaran. A piercing, voiceless scream echoing out over the field of battle as the massive tower's form would begin to become apparent as the engulfing umbral darkness melted from it's visage. Evaporating into formless mist as The Shaper slumped forward in the makeshift throne. Panting and gasping for a moment as sweat dripped from his brow, his hair falling over his head in a coarse curtain as dark veins permeated his skin. His very breathe seeping a mist of dark, cloying vapor as he stood to his feet. His vision pained, blurred and pulsating to the thrum of a heartbeat that was not his own. The mutterings of creatures of the Nether, of beyond, roused by the destruction of Csilla still echoed within his mind. The great Eye of Flame now following his stalled command to begin to sweep over the field of battle around Bast Castle. Reinforcements now flooding out of the mighty tower to join their brethren in fire, blood and war as The Shaper idly laid a hand on his prized creation's shoulder. Gripping it just a bit too firmly to be a simple show of approval. "Stay here, for now. There is yet more I can do for our Empire."

Turning his head to regard Sabine he would smooth back his hair, straighten his posture, and close his eyes. "Miss Delacroix. If it please you, I am ready." Once more drawing power from the Tower, for the simple act of expanding his ability to reach out to the thoughts and minds of others, The Shaper would boom in a voice guttural and deep, brimming with authority, pride and blazing passion as he spoke. "Know this, loyal soldiers, defenders and future of our Empire. Today will be a day long remembered. Today our Empire is reborn, in both spirit and purpose. Today is an ascension, as befits one who would bring order and security to their Empire. In both fire and war shall we be remade, shall our purpose become clear, and in these fires...." Now a great gale of energy would swirl about the Tower, tearing at The Shaper's cloak and his grip on Pandora's shoulder would tighten intensely. His teeth briefly gritting as blood would begin to trickle down from the corners of his eyes, spill from his lips, and Saud'Akute would dilate fervently as great, echoing roars and the sound of an inferno would grow and spread from the Tower's precipice.

The Flaming Eye would begin to expand as a great clawed hand would grasp the writhing, blazing energy as if it were made of solid matter. A smoldering, great flaming and hatred given form emerging with a roar fit to fill the battlefield would harken the arrival of The Shaper's final words in it's wake. ".... In these fires. This Empire shall be reborn!"

The Nocna Mora had come. But it did not come alone.

Allowing his voice to fade and die down The Shaper would now lean upon Pandora, though not completely, as his eyes became twins to Saud'Akute itself. His body growing cold and nearly lifeless as The Shaper eldritch armor melded down into the surface of the living tower. The Nocna Mora at it's pinnacle unleashing a roar of unfettere,d unbridled and endless rage, only to then shudder and quake, the fire in it's eyes wavering and sputtering like a dying flame for a mere moment... before erupting into a fierce inferno as it descended down onto the battlefield to reap a bloody toll. Inflicting terror and fear in it's wake, spreading destruction as a smaller form was left on the Tower's pinnacle. Wielding naught but a hunk of metal one might mistake for a sword.

Meanwhile The Shaper's body would gently squeeze Pandora, his eyes slowly blinking as his spirit focused it's attention primarily on controlling the Devourer. Though a few murmurs did escape his lips "Summon the Marrow, my creation. The Jedi she is with.... as well, to the Tower." The Tower, in the meanwhile, would unleash it's transferred defenses from his palace unto the invading force. A cacophony of emplacements opening fire adding to the endless din of war as a single Imperial Captain cautiously approached the platform. Standing politely, though cautiously, before addressing Sabine. "My Lady, please inform the Emperor that the preparations for the beast within Bast Castle are complete." The Captain would produce a simple lockbox and place it obediently before Sabine before bowing. "Now, if you'll excuse me, dodging, ducking, dipping and diving my way through a warzone was enjoyable... but I'd much rather return to firing BACK."

With that the Captain turned and went back to his blood business and the die were left to fall where they may.

Spoiler: Tags for all those I can find

Allies: Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir Ingrid L'lerim Darth Banshee Shuklaar Kyrdol Darth Mori Laertia Io Cameron Crownwraithe

Enemies: DECEASED Erskine Barran Nukth Kelga'an Irveric Tavlar Zaavik Perl Kar Bakar

Those inside Castle Bast or elsewhere can be aware at their individual discretion.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Hold the Line
Location: The beach near Castle Bast
Equipment: Lightsaber
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO
Tags: Irveric Tavlar / Hâwmâr Lurais / DECEASED Erskine Barran / Cameron Crownwraithe / Laertia Io / Willan Tal / Shuklaar Kyrdol
--------------------------------------

There were somethings in battle that were like music to one's ears. Sometimes it was reinforcements, the enemy retreating, the sound of reloading, even just a pause in the sound of dying and fighting. Here there was no such pause, no reinforcements, and certainly no retreat. There was however, one shout above the noise that momentarily spurred the defenders on.

"Air support! Friendly gunship inbound!"

Evidently the advance up the beach wouldn't go unhindered after all. Good, let them handle that. Alisteri had no orders to break off from his position in the trenches, not even to reinforce another. He and most every defender had the same orders: Hold the line, no matter the cost. And the cost was proving to be getting higher and higher with each minute that passed.

Already more than a dozen squads in his trench had been cut down or blown apart by the enemy storming the beach, and two more had been wiped out by some troopers that had managed to slip into the trench when they weren't looking. Their bodies were still being removed, even minutes after they had died. Unfortunately, removing the dead was not a priority. Killing however, was. For each Legionnaire that was shot on the line, another replaced them. For each squad blown apart by a grenade or blast from a vehicle, another moved in to secure the crater where they lay. The defense was as brutal as the assault, for if it wasn't then it would fall.

And it couldn't fall.

Scattered reports came in of the armored column still moving towards the castle, but there was no support that the beach's defenders could offer. Reserves were already being moved in to halt the advances and bolster the trenches that still held, some squads were even sent in to try and reclaim the fallen defenses. The whole beach was in conflict by now, and the deafening sounds of war were proof enough of it.

But then, above the cacophony of suffering and death, a new sound arose. An echo of a scream rang out from Castle Bast and nearly every Legionnaire paused to listen or flinch. Alisteri found himself brought down to his knees entirely, the sound reverberating through him as he could feel and understand what it meant.

The Stormtrooper that the Acolyte was about to cut down shifted his gaze up to the castle, the sight of the tower causing him to shake with terror. Even more so, given that all of his squad already lay dead at his feet due to the Sith before him. "Wh-What is tha-" A quick plunge of his blade through the chest and the trooper was no more, Alisteri shakily clambering to his feet as his newest kill dropped dead.

"Salvation." His gaze turned up to the tower as well, feeling his mind shudder at the mere sight and presence of the eye.

They had done it. The line had held long enough for him to witness it. He pitied his many comrades that lay dead as the fighting on the beach paused just a moment to hear the words of the new emperor. And then it resumed with a fervor unlike it had before, the Legionnaires eager to prove themselves to their now-present master. The Acolyte leaned against the wall of the trench and bowed his head as the speech came to an end. "Auktoi nun tyûk, oy kal’evos iv Sith."

With that prayer said and his resolve strengthened he swiftly picked up the body of the Stormtrooper in one hand and tightened his grasp on the lightsaber in his other. "Stand proud and tall my friends! The emperor is with us!" Ignoring the ache in both his mind and his body, he hauled himself up onto the beach and blocked an incoming bolt with his weapon while the body in his hand served as a macabre shield.

"Stand now, with me my brethren! For the empire!" He raised his voice as loud as he could muster and pointed his sabre towards the enemy's landing zone. Now they could do as they wished, so long as they succeeded. "CHARGE!"