We Come For Booty (Dominion Dom of Chiloon Rift and Irn)

[Garza]

Objective: Get into a Fight.
Location: With an old buddy.
Allies: Primeval, [member="Ardgal Raxis"],
Enemies: Dominion, [member="Cedric Grayson"],

What is it with TIE fighters and having to shoot at us. As soon as I got out, I could hear their annoying whining as they zipped on by. Firring upon us. Well, I kind of expected it, as with local police forces firing at us. From this range, it was clear that missing was very likely. Any shot at the moment from them would be lucky to hit me. No, I was more worried about the ships. They had so many, it would be difficult to take them all down. Eh, Might just have to crack my knuckles and pull a little magic out of my ass.

"Kinta, Take care of the men shooing us. Just make sure no bolts are being aimed at me."
"And protect your ass?"
"If you want to deal with the ships then we can trade."
"be my guest."

Thrusting my hands into the sky, as the ships drew near, they must have been stupid. You see, wings were needed to fly. So were engines. As a group of three closed the distance fast, I snapped some bolts with telekinesis on one of the ships, and pulled on the exhaust port on a second. The first one went spiraling into the ground with a fantastic explosion. The second one suddenly lurched as though it slowed down, and forcing the engines to suddenly stop caused the pilot to slam forward with momentum. He will wake up with one bad headache. Well, that was if he got a hold of his controls fast enough.

The third one was too close for me to bring to the ground, There was no way I could force the ship down. Instead, I reached out to the pilot. My hand like a giant grip as though I were a child reaching for it's favorite toy. Grasping onto the joysticks in the ship, and yanked them upward. The ship turned up to the sky within the blink of an eye, and went straight up for a few moments before completing an entire loopy-loop. Now I could take control of the ship.

Grabbing it with both hands, I yanked it to the ground. Smashing it into the dirt. For the time being, the first run was dealt with. A second was likely on the way, and would keep sending waves to take us out. But with very minimal force usage to remove a couple bolts, a flap on an engine, and yanking a ship that was already headed down to the ground, I could do this all day.

"Raxis, You better hurry up. I have ships on me. Give me your coordinates."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Obective: Help the fam do their thing--Distract the Homeboys
Enemies: [member="Cedric Grayson"] [member="Jessica Med-Beq"]
Allies: [member="Boethiah"] | [member="Nick Imura"] | [member="The Slave"] | [member="Antherion"]

Sure it would take some time to move the tanks off the GR-75, but considering the dominion fleet and reentry had already busted the crap out of it, there was really no point in being gentle so the tanks literally tore themselves free from its carcass--sorta like that movie Aliens. When you didn' give a crap what happened to the ship you were offloading from, it really sped things up. Scrambling 72 ships and filling their payloads with a missile that distinctly required special storage in its tech sub, was obviously nothing to sneeze at--and not to mention mobilizing over 2700 meat can conscripts, I mean, really talk about overkill.

"Scanners are picking up an attack run of fighters and bombers, sir," Virgil reported from her station in the Behemoth as her general stood on the top of the hull of the GR-75. "Sensors are picking up a massive amount of Ion energy coming from their cargo holds."

"You said bombers and fighters?" Ardgal asked, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Yes, sir," Virgil said, he could hear the shrug in her voice. It was kinda a dumb call to send aircrafts against a force that was pretty much half anti aircraft in nature.

"Activate ray shields and deflectors, the closeness of our formation will cause overlap," Ardgal ordered, "When they are in range, give them the flak cannons." He jumped off the GR and strode into his command Behemoth, carefree and at home on this beautiful battlefield.

The moment the bombers came in range, they were met with a wall of highly accurate flack fire from the Icarus tanks. 200 long range flack cannons opened their hellish fire on the fly by birds. Since these bombers were in a tight formation--and well flak rounds did explode in a burst in mid air--well it was pretty hard to miss and not do vorpal damage. Even tapping the wings, (per the tech sub) would be lethal since one would logically spiral out of control and hit the other at least. The overlapping shields of the Icarus and Hellstorm tanks held strong, even though the rumbles were pretty uncomfortable and the lights were pretty bright outside. The vessels that really didn't have shields, they were pretty screwed.

"Second pass, in bound," Virgil said, her voice displaying the pure boredom of the situation.

"Give them the Brilliants but maintain flack fire. Commence reloading."

"Yes, sir, locked on. Firing." Two of the homing missiles for each assault ship streaked out from the Raxis army's tanks. "Missiles away, sir."

"Excellent, let's start towards our target." Ardgal tapped his helmet, opening comms to Nick, "Glad to hear from you, I am sure you noticed our location. If you would please feel free, help us take these pesky flies down, we are going at a snail's pace towards our first target. Thank you greatly, sir."

The carefreeness in his voice was only second to his politeness. The tanks began to roll through the streets, staying tight in their own phalanx formation, Ardgal's men safely aboard, waiting for deployment to their target. He wasn't here to kill civilians, that wasn't how this merc rolled, but he was here to do his job--draw attention and hit a few priority targets.

Forces:

Spoiler

Godkillers (in Sig)
Alpha Company (In sig)
100 Hellstorm Heavy Assault Tanks
100 Icarus-Class Anti-Aircraft Tanks
the Behemoth

 

[Lethia Morow]

Location: Forest in Fairline Province​

Objective: Make her prey beautiful​

Equipment: Ritual Dagger, EE-3 Blaster Carbine​

Allies: The Primeval​

Prey: [member="Alyson Halle"]​

​

---

Lethia would've laughed, had she not been making an attempt to remain silent.

She felt the tendrils of her prey's consciousness slither outwards - and yet, not a single shot had been fired, not a single move made towards Lethia's position - she'd slithered down a tree about fifty yards from her original position, taking cover behind the trunk. Which meant one thing.

Lethia's prey didn't know where she was.

Ohhh, but she knew exactly where they were. Having spent years blind, Lethia had a rather impressive ability to sense the Force - and through that, navigate the world around her, even in darkness.

So with knife in hand, Lethia began to stalk towards her prey.

Sticking to the principle of "rather safe than sorry," she still did her best to avoid moving within the enemy's theoretical line of sight - she might not've been able to detect Lethia through the Force, but if she could simply see in the dark, that was another thing altogether. Likewise, the huntress remained as quiet as possible in her movement - the noise of the storm was excellent cover for the sound of cracking twigs and the like.

Closer and closer Lethia crept to Alyson's nesting spot, with a wicked grin on her face and a sickle of razor-sharp bone in her hand.

 

[HK-36]

[member="Krest"], [member="Causstik Rahn"],

Could Krest really blame them for relaying so much on technology? After all those without Force gained more power and abilities through new gadgets and weapons rather than mystical tricks and sorcerous spells, and although it did take HK until now to finally get access to Vong tech, he did not survive so long because he went into combat with nothing but sword and a wooden shield.

Either way, Krest swung at HK which the droid dodged by jumping back, his arms thrown to the side as if he was about to embrace someone,

"Oop!"

Another swing the droid ducked under quickly, the blade singeing the top of his head, causing the black biot to hiss and growl once more in pain as its chitin was scolded,

Ksssssrkrs

The droid spun to the side, getting out of the way of another attack with a pirouette, while Krest had the Force to warn him, what HK lacked in instincts and foresight he made up with quick reaction times and the speed of his mechanical body, watching most of the world move as if through slow motion as he fought and analyzed everything around him, projecting their paths and calculating trajectories.


Causstik decided to join in then with his machete he just finished fondling, coming in with a big swing to which HK leaned back quickly, a burst of his jetpack and repulsorlift feet launched him away from the attack in a quick jump in time to avoid being hit,

"Look at you two growing some balls finally to fight me in melee. I am surprised that you did not enter this fight at the Sith's side Causstik, fighting alongside the Sith seems to be more to your speed than actually trying to protect your masters' planet."

The droid quipped as he flicked one of his wrists and seemingly a golden club flew to it from his belt, he activated the device as the electrode on its end dropped down, suspended from a strong looking cable before lighting up in electric arcs, revealing itself to be an electro-flail as his other hand took the hilt of his lightsaber, Krest would recognize it since it would be the weapon HK trained him previously with, activating the sword to burst forth with its white blade and emanate out the Light-sided aura from the plasma that coursed through an imbued Solari crystal. Perhaps Krest managed to deactivate one of his gravity gloves and that was why the machine used only one of them to arm himself quickly, perhaps he was merely saving its charges. No, it's actually damaged and cannot be used.

HK did not counterattack this turn however as all his focus/time was spent towards dodging and positioning himself against the two.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest completely understands why [member="HK-36"] uses the tech he do- wait why is the droid defending himself from Krest's annoyance on tech? How is Krest responding to this? Neither have access to each others thoughts, unless the droid got a machine that can read his mind.

"You really talk to much." It would be the first thing the Zabrak said since being blown up earlier. The Force could warn the man of many things, but it didn't mean he could evade all he saw. Certainly gave him the edge he needed in this day and age however. While he struck out at the droid he did made sure to keep [member="Causstik Rahn"] on his radar, knowing that it was he the lizard wanted dead, and with how much HK taunted him it was a matter of time before the focus once again turned on the Sith.

Or would it? For what ever reason Rahn forwent his relations with the Dominion to fight he who should be an ally. Nothing to count on though. What was to count on was the power he had over the Force. When the droid jumped back he did not follow, instead watching the weapons drawn. An electro flail? Without delay he reached out with the Force to grab the spiked ball and swing it back around at it's owners arm, body, where ever.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Location: The Vacuum of Space
Objective: Avoid Certain Death
Nearby Allies: [member="Abraxas"]
Nearby Foes: [member="Cedric Grayson"], [member="Vorian Adasca"]

Fifteen seconds. If the bubble ruptured, that was about as long as they would get before they lost consciousness and died violently. Meanwhile, his ship was drifting further away. Although the duet of darksiders would individually not be shot at by the Acerbitas, if only to avoid destroying the valuable Seed of Rage, leaving them to flail in agony in the ruins of their broken ship would be perfect, poetic sadism. Admirable, were he not the target.

Once Antherion was certain that the bubble of pressure and air was stable under the fellow adept, he kept one hand firm on the Seed to anchor himself to his fellow, and with the other he reached out. He could not pull himself to the ship, but with a tug, he could pull the ship to him.

He narrowed his eyes, concentrating, taking a deep gulp of air that was quickly turning stale, a dull pain throbbing near his temple. The air-propelled outwards journey ground to a slow stop, eventually beginning to drift inwards. Imagining himself as pushing with unseen hands, not dragging painfully, but effortless forward motion, as though moving a floating object across the surface of water. He called, it answered.

He glanced askance at the groaning knight, keeping them safe. Joining his efforts to the man's, Antherion fortified the sphere of protection as they drifted into safety, signaling to his droid for the airlock to be closed as soon as they were in.

 

[Darth Eversor]

Abraxas' lungs were beginning to feel as if they were burning, burning from the lack of oxygen that was quickly dissipating from the threat of the void just outside the thin shelter of the bubble. As the Sith concentrated, he could feel the lull of the Seed attaching itself to his mind. Something akin to whispers of embrace from the Dark Side he used to fuel his power.

Eyes now open, but focus still steadfast, the ship was coming closer ever so slowly. The haven that would save them - the traitors of the Dominion from the vacuum that they were meant suffer and die in. But as soon as Abraxas was beginning to become fatigued, he could feel [member="Antherion"]'s helping presence keep the sphere intact long enough to provide the needed time to be received within the ship's airlock.

Looking to his unconventional comrade, the Sith gave a curt nod. An assurance that this would change the relationship between the two for a more mutually beneficial future.

This very predicament was quite a contrast from the first encounter they had, where Antherion was sent as a jailer - a hunter for the once defector of the Sith and [member="Darth Carnifex"]'s throne. But just moments ago, the tables were turned in a strange parallel that now ended in an unspoken truce.

But, after safety, the terms would assuredly be hashed out as to who stood where, and on what grounds.

 

[Darth Rage]

[SIZE=11pt]Darth Rage sat alone in the mess hall alone. He didn’t get along well with the others and as a result he decided to eat alone mostly. Especially after the fifth fight he had gotten into. Each time he had left the offender in the med bay. Now, under guard he was actually “encouraged” to eat alone. So the Sith was sipping his gruel when he spotted something strange. A man had entered the mess hall, but something was off about him. His skin was of a lighter parlor. His fingernails were elongated as though he had spent a millennia in the grave. His eyes had turned a golden ember and Rage sensed a strange aura emanating from him. One of pure hatred. Rage pushed his meal away from him and stood from the table. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“You might wanna finish your meal pal,” One of the guards said. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Rage ignored him and withdrew his saber[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“There’s no need for that!” The man cried out again. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Rage cut them all down with quick decisive strikes. He then did a front flip over the table and ran towards the possessed man. Rage cut him in half with a horizontal swing. The mans corpse continued to crawl after Rage with his hands. Instead of finishing the man he walked into the hallway and discovered around fifty of the possessed men making their way forward. Rage Charged the crowd of men and began to hack away with his saber, but still they were too much. To many. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Rage was quickly surrounded by the Hate filled men and while he continued to cut them they continued to fall upon him with fevered hands.Rage was soon surrounded and engulfed by the horde. One of the men wrestled his saber from his grasp and Rage thought for sure it would be the end of him. One of the demons bit into his arm and he let out a long wail of pain. “ARGH!!!!” With his free hand Rage reached through the crowd and sought to invoke the spirit of Mephirium. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“With my dying breath, I call upon you! [member="Darth Mephirium"]! Answer my call and save our wretched souls!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And with that a purple portal would open from above the Sith pureblood. A wave of shock rushed through the ship and the possessed men shrunk back for a moment. Spirits flung themselves out of the void, some attacked those around, but most simply flew off into space. Rage shielded himself from the spirits with his arm as he stood then he cried out to the portal with all the Rage he could muster.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“MEPHIRUM COME!!!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]In vicinity: [/SIZE][member="Abraxas"]
[member="Antherion"]
[member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]

 

[Vaylin]

Location: Sarnus, Chiloon Rift - Outside the outpost, about to go inside
Objective: Fight.
Allies: Primeval - [member="Aria Vale"] [Nearby] | [member="Soryn Solimar"] [Incoming]
Enemies: Dominion - [member="Judas Foster"] [Nearby] | [member="Arisa Yune"], [member="Rakieh Atur"] [Incoming]
Engaging: [member="Teresa Shan"]
Gear: Lightsaber | Armor

Vaylin shrugged, following the slight movement with a slash of her lightsaber towards Teresa, keeping her from closing in. "How am I to know you're not lying? You using that silly mask to hide your face." As they moved into the facility, the pair entered a hallway, narrow and straight with Vaylin's back towards an open area were a number of the Dominion ships were docked. Jest she may about the woman's armor, but she could feel something off about it. It made her cautious. She could sense the dark side in the combatant, yet there was another - like another layer wrapped around her.

Perhaps there was some merit to utilizing armor, if one could obtain something like that,

Vaylin watched her opponent carefully as she shifted into a stance, preparing for her to move. Wrapping bother hands around her hilt, she met Teresa's lunge with her own, their sabers clashing together entering into a deadlock. Vaylin shifted her weight down into her feet, utilizing her superior height and weight to try pushing back.

"If that is your mindset...to not take this seriously." Amidst the noise of their connected blades, Vaylin stared directly at Teresa's mask. A look in her eyes - the one a predator gave their prey. "Then you're already dead!" Vaylin forced Teresa's saber to the left, and attempted a slice at the woman's abdomen. Following it up by taking one hand from her hilt, and directing a Force Blast at her.

 

[Causstik Rahn]

Causstik swung, but the droid appeared to be an acrobat. The droid dodged and while not quite eloquent some might say his movements were at least graceful.

"Look at you two growing some balls finally to fight me in melee. I am surprised that you did not enter this fight at the Sith's side Causstik, fighting alongside the Sith seems to be more to your speed than actually trying to protect your masters' planet."

“GRAGH!!! YOU ANNOYING MACHINE! DIE!!!!” Causstik shouted at the droid.
The droid withdrew some sort of flail. It began to swing wildly and Causstik had to dodge the flailing of the, well, flail. Causstik ducked beneath the attack and his free hand flew to his shotgun. He fired near point blank at HK. The Sith had moved out of Causstik’s peripheral vision, so for now HK had Causstik’s undivided attention.

[member="Krest"]
[member="HK-36"]

 

[HK-36]

[member="Causstik Rahn"], [member="Krest"],

Perhaps Krest and HK had those rare bromance moments when they just happened to be thinking the same thing and it just seemed to be as if they were somehow communicating, plus this writers enjoys discussing motivations behind character actions and needs to pad out the length of the posts somehow, otherwise they would be only couple paragraphs long and after writing posts for invasions and tech submissions it just seems wrong.

Either way, HK replied to Krest,

"I talk just enough to get this reptile ruffian to jeopordize his own allegiance and try to disable me. Which, by the way Causstik, you are doing a horrible job of as always."

Hopefully Krest remembered HK's extensive lectures on taunting during combat and would not fall for the same tricks as the Trandoschan was, turning his back to a Sith lord to focus on the machine.

As the head of the flail suddenly raised and swung towards the droid he shot another burst from his jets, propelling him to the side to get out of the path of his own weapon while Causstik dodged underneath it, the electrode scraping against the side of his arms with a groan of the biot and a growl as electric arcs spread across it, shocking the organic armor, eliciting a slight jitter from the machine as his rotors and mechanical muscles spasmed a bit but he kept control of his own body, at least for now as he was protect by multiple layers from such attacks, first one being the electricity absorbed by the biot rather than his own body, plus depending on how close Krest was to Causstik the attack could have been dampened by the Void stone.

The dodge got him more or less out of the scattergun's shot, the buckshot hitting only half of his abdomen with a sickly crack of the chitinous black armor and another howling scowl of the biot as the machine was pushed back slightly, the Phrik claws extending from his feet to anchor him before with another push from his repulsorlift feet he came upon Causstik.

This time he did not hesitate to attack, in their proximity the machine launched his hand forward in a quick strong brute punch Causstik would have remembered from their earlier skirmishes and duels. While the impact of it, if it hit could have possibly knocked the air out of him or leave him with a nasty bruise, it wasn't dealing damage to him the sole intent of the hit, for HK targeted a specific part of the suit. The brittle Void stone encrusted into the armor.

With the whack and the smash of Phrik armored fist hopefully slamming into Causstik the stone would hopefully shatter, and with it should hopefully disappear the Force nullification properties.

"Hey, Krest, if the Dark Side is so good then show me what you can do with it."

HK mocked his old apprentice as he swung around half aside from the Trandoschan, still more or less in the previous position of punching him but being able to use his other arm to aim it towards Krest, twin barrels of his built-in blaster repeater pocked out from beneath the black biot and opened fire, letting loose a burst of plasma bolts at Krest to make him feel included in the fight.

 

[Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax]

Location: Sarnus, Chiloon Rift
Allies: [member="Judas Foster"]
Foes: The Primeval - [member="aria vale"], [member="Vaylin"]
Gear: Revan's Robes, Revans Lightsaber

There was a pull from the saber as they came in contact with each other. It was enough to keep the faint smile on her face as her eyes gleared back at her current opposition who was trying to be intimidating. She'd seen loth cats more ferocious than this woman in front of her. Sleeping slowly Teresa could feel the others weight been pushed onto her. She broke the deadlock to be met with a strike at her belly. A purple stream of light would intercept it knocking the attack from it's course as her body cleared it's new direction.

With a glimpse Teresa saw her hand shift from the hilt. Now it was time to learn what this dark one could do. In a split second her body began to be pushed back by a wave of energy. She felt her back crash against the wall before her feet touched the floor again. In the process her saber had unignighted as just a precaution. It was an ability not many used but Teresa had seen someone who had mastered it before. The power was nothing compared to that. It was a good indication the person ahead was still a learner. Possibly on training weels so to say.

Taking in a long breath her hand would hold out over a pocket pulling a flip lighter to her palm. The thumb would flip the cap and strike the flint weel creating a flame. A falme that soon began to grow around her hand but not touching it. She'd not learnt how to make the force create the fire yet, but she could control it to a degree. The saber would also ignight again with it's purple blade. Her feet also began to move once more walking towards the girl. "I'm far from dead, but you may be closer to it than you think." There was a sharp pain where her waist had hit the wall first, but it was only pain. A merger feeling the body did to say it had been damaged somewhere. A useful thing, the same time it was annoying and aggravating. Once more she bagan to charge at the woman. This time gaining more momentum from her speed. When Teresa had gotten close she'd push the fire outwards blocking the view as she dropped into a slide throwing her saber to the direction her flames didn't reach.

 

[TB-705]

Location: The Acerbitas

[member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Vorian Adasca"]

You might say that a mere shuttle's hold of warriors could not slaughter their way indiscriminately through a dreadnought of immense proportions. Ordinarily, you would be right. But there was nothing ordinary in the fear that bled through the decks of the Acerbitas like the creeping tendrils of Vjun's acid fog.

Soldiers witnessing the cadre of rampaging Togorians dug deep for the will to fight. Yet, somehow "remember Atrisia" sounded hollow when confronted face-to-face with a two meter tall feline, fangs red and scimitar redder still with the blood of comrades dear. Fleeing seemed the wiser course.

Even the most veteran of soldiers might be given a moment's hesitation. A moment just long enough to be spitted upon Togorian sword.

At the heart of the marauding band strode Thengil Ri'Shajirr, features pitiless for the carnage around him. An adept of the Force might trace the source of this ephemeral terror plaguing the beleaguered soldiers back to him.

Putting an end to him would surely stop the assault in its tracks. The question was, were any up to the task?

 

[Alyson Halle]

Location: In a tree on Irn
Objective: Kill [member="Lethia Morow"]
Allies: Dominion
Enemies: Primeval - Lethia Morow

Alsyson continued to sense through the force. The tendrils of her mind flowing throughout the area, searching for any sign of force sensitivity or force use. She was not a great sensing master, she never claimed to be, it took her time and effort to find her mark, but she could do it given enough time. The Tendrils of her mind eventually were able to find her mark, she had located a little shimmer of force energy out of place, and it was attempting to sneak towards Alyson, they were doing well to hide it, but her mind had found it.

Alyson began to take a peek in that direction, the direction her mind had found the shimmer, but she had failed to find anything immediately, but she continued to focus, watching carefully the limbs of the trees, the leaves of the ground, and the bushes that littered the forest. The canopy was being soaked in torrential rains, and occasionally a powerful lightning strike would give her a moment of light, but she did not pull herself out of her force vision, she focused on the bearing that her senses had caught the beast at, watching the foliage.

Alyson sat on her perch with her pistol, at the slightest movement she would pull the trigger, without hesitation, a .45 caliber slug would be sent hurdling down range, Alyson patiently awaited the moment to shoot, the second she knew right where her target was. She had a great vantage point from her position, , she could see quite a lot, but the ground foliage was covering up the creature well, it was difficult to make out heir movements, through the brush, but eventually, they popped out just enough to be made out by Alyson.

Alyson aimed her pistol, and though the target was about 30 yards out, Alyson pulled the trigger, the gun making an extremely loud band and a bullet now flying in the direction of the hostile. Hopefully the bullets would hit, if they didn't Alyson would need to come up with another plan.

 

[Jessica Med-Beq]

Location: Irnfall
Objective: Defend the city
Gear: Lightsaber, armor
Allies: Dominion [member="Cedric Grayson"] [member="Grace Darkson"]
Enemies: Primeval [member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Kiran Vess"]
Music: Determination (FFTA2)

"We took out their speeders but their shields are still holding" the flight leader reported.

"They are still in a tight box of units. Keep up the pressure while there is still ordnance left; return back to base once the ordnance has been exhausted"

Even when she expected low survivability out of the bunch of aircraft, when they spin out of control due to taking enemy fire, the bombers spun downwards due to the gravity, unlike in space, where they would spin in the direction the shot was fired from. Because they kept low and within the enemy's anti-aircraft point-blank range, when they do crash as a result of spinning, the bombs contained in them also detonated close to the dense box of enemy combat vehicles. Due to the low survivability of most attack craft in that size bracket these days, Jessica made the right choice in loading the heavy ion bombs: she did not expect the formation to last more than two attack runs against an enemy that numerous. Realizing, however, that tanks with that armor would be able to shrug off hits from weapons capable of penetrating only up to 100mm of durasteel, but that they may be accurate enough to hit barrels on the tanks, maybe the main battery would be out of commission with its barrel being damaged. At that speed, the enemy formation will probably be so tightly packed that they will reach a bottleneck: the closest bottleneck is precisely where some missile troops lied in wait. If the forward-most tanks were destroyed, that will force the enemy to spread out. However, I've got to respect the Primeval for at least attempting to implement a better invasion protocol, she thought.

"Kaeshana anti-aircraft: if you see enemy tanks approaching, and enemy aircraft don't show up, aim for the barrels: it may be our only chance of stopping them. T-3B anti-aircraft: fire concussion missiles at the front of the enemy tank formation"

"The enemy is still out of Kaeshana range: the Kaeshanas can only effectively fire at about 1500m against low-flying aircraft at that altitude, and tanks are to be treated the same as low-flying aircraft for that purpose" the lead Kaeshana gunner reported.

"Spaceport commander, report in!"

"The enemy is still out of range, the evacuation is progressing at a steady rate" the commander of the spaceport detachment reported.

"Good: keep the eyes open for enemy forces"

Phew: the enemy didn't make it to the spaceport yet: we might be able to get a few thousand of the residents somewhere safe before the enemy makes it to the spaceport, she thought, upon reviewing the holotable of the city, which collected all sensor data available and put all the units' positions into one holographic map. So it meant that the evacuation crews were still safe, alongside the residents of Irnfall still being herded to the spaceport for evacuation, where [member="Grace Darkson"] still worked towards the evacuation of Irnfall's population. She believed that the enemy would make a beeline for the spaceport, knowing what importance destroying the spaceport held in the Primeval's strategy of inflicting as many civilian casualties as possible. But perhaps they were just too slow to make it to the spaceport: the enemy landing zone was about 15 klicks away from the spaceport. It's Jessica's job to make these 15 kilometers as painful as possible to the enemy, and frankly playing such a chess game as a ground commander is something few Jedi wanted to do these days. Meanwhile, all twelve T3-Bs fired three precision concussion missiles apiece, directed towards the foremost few rows of tanks in the phalanx, in hopes of forcing the enemy to fan out. That was the first volley: there will be many more volleys to come in this engagement.

Spoiler: Troop composition

Aircraft:

34 TIE Advanced X1s (12 over Irnfall, 22 in the outskirts)
14 TIE Reavers

Anti-aircraft emplacements: 80 Kaeshana light hypervelocity cannons

Ground vehicles:

36 Zamboni minesweeping main battle tanks
12 T3-B anti-aircraft vehicles

Infantry:

2100 Dominion troopers
Gear:

• Zevronce Peacekeeper Armor
• RX-329 Blaster Rifle
• Assasin Sidearm (sidearm)
• Korriban heavy machineguns (3 for every 100 men)

400 armed citizenry
Gear: RX-329 Blaster Rifle

100 Dominion snipers
Gear:

• Zevronce Peacekeeper Armor
• Snips Sniper Blaster
• Assasin Sidearm (sidearm)

100 missile troopers
Gear:

• Zevronce Peacekeeper Armor
• MiniMan PTL missile launchers
• Assasin Sidearm (sidearm)

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Location: Asteroid Field, Chiloon Rift
Allies: The Primeval - [member="Boethiah"]
Foes: The Dominion - [member="Bartic Myth'rand"] │ [member="Zaz Tal'Verda"] │ [member="Dune Rhur"]

The soft churns of engines roared in the depths of space, foreign ion being jetted haphazardly amongst the debris fields with little thought on where the latent energy and particles may end up. Most notably, this vacuum pollution came from the personalized ships hidden near one of the various asteroids, their signature completely hidden from the would be scanners and scouts sent out by the Dominion. There was a soft hum in the cockpit of the lead vehicle, The Slave offering a solemn tone as he moved a slightly dulled knife beneath one of his nails.

The humming was broken by the chatter of his radio, relayed back to him through a small network of reconnaissance units placed through the void. The relay system hid where they were well, as even if they found one of the interlinking connection it was highly unlikely they’d find the final link in the chain. It’s static voice broke free in the headset he wore, the voice of a gruff old miner with a likely history of drug abuse.

Or at least The Slave like to imagine so.

“‘ir!”, his heavy accent struggled to say, “En’my shi’s ‘eadin’ foh dat Qween!”

The Slave sighed, the obnoxious voice forcing a slight scowl on his face. He wiped the dirt from the tip of the blade as he responded, his voice a low and cold response;

“Send out the Black Wings. Those pirates should be able to handle them.”

And the gruffness that was the voice responded with a confirmatory grunt. The Slave moved to turn down the volume of his headset, if only slightly, and began humming once more. His legs crossed, his mind wandering, he was oddly comfortable where he was waiting.

The Black Wings however were a ruthless band of pirates that stayed out in space not due to luck, but to raw will to survive. The Dominion had sought out and ruined the weaker of the pirate groups, leaving only the most unruly and violent of them to be destroyed. In turn, The Primeval’s offer of repentance and power in the Chiloon Rift gave these men and women a second chance at the horrid lifestyle they sought out, with it a chance for revenge against the Dominion and her people.

Their engines whirred, their people confirmed eachothers orders and the first of their numbers set out to intercept the boarding party that sought out the Cathedral ship the new messiah sat upon. With graciously customized AEG-77 Vigo gunships and a squadron of Ixiyen-Class Fast Attack Craft, they set out with guns prepped and ready for their would be incursion.

Taking care to allow the debris of the asteroid field to hide where they were, The Black Wings knew these routes like the back of their hands. They’d used them for months to hide from the Dominion, so they understood where and what worked compared to what didn’t, and as they finally closed in on their targets they let loose like a pack of wolves. Guns tore the otherwise blackness of space, every shot moving for the various transports that carried the shock troopers.

Distantly, the Slave continued his humming, the rest of the make-shift fleet getting ancy with anticipation of his orders. He obviously didn’t care though.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

(Apologies for slow responses. I have been pretty ill these past few days.)

Objective: Contemplate Mistakes, Confront Invaders
Location: The Acerbitas
Allies: [member="Vorian Adasca"]
Enemies: [member="Antherion"], [member="Abraxas"], [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]

There was disharmony aboard his vessel.

The Acerbitas was an efficient machine that required perfect clarity in order to act at her full strength. Every soul aboard her was another cog in the machine, and if even a single cog was broken, the lack of efficiency was a noticeable one.

Cyrene made that rather clear to Cedric as she chimed in about a boarding party. The first thought that came to the youth's mind was the absurdity of what was said, but then the Primeval had proven themselves to be rather fond of the absurd as of late. The most dangerous and suicidal options were often the least considered, and perhaps they hoped to capitalize on it. Indeed, Cedric had to applaud the boarding party for their courage, though such courage would earn them no mercy.

"And the Dread Seed?"

"[member="Antherion"] and [member="Abraxas"] have escaped with the seed. It seems they were in league with this enemy we've been confronted with."

Cedric's brow furrowed.

"That...Cyrene, close the comm channels for a moment."

"Cedric?"

"Close them please."

The tactical displays around Cedric's face dimmed. A sudden silence followed as the sound of voices over the TACCOMM faded to nothingness. Cedric's voice came as a quiet, rumbling thing. His tone had lost the clipped sureness of before, replaced by a private melancholy that felt rather uncharacteristic for the youth.

"I took a chance with them Cyrene. I wanted to help them. I wanted to show them that they could be more than..." he gestured to the casualty listing flowing in from both Irn and the Rift. "This. Was I a fool for that? I thought I saw potential in the both of the both of them. They could have been good men, if they only had the right guidance."

"And whom are you to guide?"

"What?"

"You are barely nineteen Cedric. You are, by all definitions, a child. The knowledge of a century may have been poured into your mind, but you have no place to judge them."

The youth blinked. "Don't I? We're assailed by a cult that wants nothing less than an end to our way of life, and two men that I trusted are flying off to join them with a tool that could very well lead Irn to ruin. Where am I lacking any right to such judgement?"

"You are lacking the right because you are letting your heart dictate your actions. They made their own choices. It is not your responsibility to account for such decisions, nor is it your place to say whether those decisions were the right ones to make." Cyrene's voice came as a gentle thing, one that brooked no hostility whilst retaining a strong sense of confrontation.

Cedric just shook his head, half his mind devoted to his battle meditation, the other to the conversation at hand.

"Did I make the wrong choice in accepting them? Should I just have had them killed at our first meeting?"

"No, and you know why that would be the wrong answer. You must give everyone a chance: be they Sith, Jedi, soldiers,or anything in between. These are the ideals our Dominion promises, right? You can't turn against them because of an isolated incident."

A long silence followed.

It was broken by the quiet exhalation that was Cedric's sigh.

"I am tired of losing people to corruption and chaos. I feel as if there are none left with righteous souls."

"Yet there are. Master [member="Dune Rhur"] and Lord [member="Vorian Adasca"] are both testaments to that."

"And what if they make a similar decision? What if Vorian chooses to betray us for the sake of power, or perhaps Dune decides to take the order to some other land?"

"Then that would be their choice, and one you would have to deal with accordingly. You can't control people Cedric, you can only nudge them toward the right path and hope they choose to take it."

Yet another silence followed, but this one was not pregnant with the tension of before. Ensconced within the many layers of his meditation sphere, Cedric company had been the AI and no one else. Yet, even as he made conversation with the artificial ghost of his mother, the battle's strain had begun to wear on his mind. The thoughts of so many beings hammered against his mental walls, and the distraction of the conversation made them ever-weaker. His lack of emotional balance most certainly was not helping.

The Archlord drew his presence inward. The battle on Irn was moving heavily in the Dominion's favor. If the people below needed his assistance any further, then he would oblige, but there were issues on the Acerbitas that needed dealing with.

"Thank you mom." He muttered.

"Cedric, you know I am only a fragment of her psyche - Cyrene as you knew her is well and truly gone. I do not think you should be calling me anything so familiar; I am a reflection of the real woman, nothing more." The AI chimed back.

"I know, but a man can pretend, can't he?" The words shook as they were spoken. They were laced with a deep seated grief that rarely saw the light of the spoken word. "Besides, you're as real as she was. You are your own person. Don't sell yourself as anything less than what you're worth."

"Cedric..."

Cedric rose to his feet, the brief sign of an inner conflict hidden beneath a set jaw and a furrowed brow. "Status in the Rift?"

"[member="Bartic Myth'rand"] and his fellows are examining the rogue vessel now. Fighting has broken out in pockets across the Rift." Cyrene informed.

"That's a loyal man right there. Let me know if anything more develops, and send word back to Ession. If things go awry, we'll call in the crusaders." The Archlord dictated as he drew his cloak about his pale shoulders. "As for the Dread Seed - how far is their vessel?"

"Well within firing range."

"Good. Gun them down, and send an interceptor squadron to make sure the ship does not survive the salvo. I would rather have the seed destroyed than in the hands of the enemy." The cowl was drawn over his patrician features. The mask of Ession followed, hiding away Cedric Grayson in favor of the Archlord.

The latter was the man the Dominion needed right now.

"Actually, hold on that. Send them a message telling them that if they surrender, we can still talk like men. Give them fifteen seconds for a reply. If you receive none, or they refuse, end them." There was no malice in his voice, only the sadness that came with making hard decisions.

Abraxas and Antherion had been projects of a sort; men that Cedric had hoped to help. They had potential to be good people, but they, like so many others, had chosen the easier and weaker path. The fact that their decision even surprised Cedric was a testament to the faith he had put in the two individuals.

"Our intruder?"

"Making little progress, though he's killed a few workers. The 501st has moved to respond, and access to further chambers has been closed. They seem to all be Togorians." Cyrene paused. "We could vent the halls they occupy if you like?"

Cedric waved a hand as he stepped out of his private quarters. In silence, the Archlord marched out onto the deck of the Acerbitas. The six red-cloaks that accompanied him in most situations bolted up from their positions around the door, plasma rifles at the ready.

"We still have people down there. I'm not going to sacrifice them to kill a beast. No, I'll do it myself." One of the red-cloaks offered him a familiar weapon. the phrik-laced cylinder was placed in his gloved hands, the weight and shape of the weapon all too familiar between his fingers.

"Are you certain that's wise Cedric?"

"I will show them the error of their ways. If they refuse to see reason, then they'll meet their end at my father's blade. I'm tired of commanding from the meditation sphere. I want to deal with this myself." Steel-toed boots thumped against the ground as Cedric and his six warriors marched toward the tram that would carry them to the assailed hanger.

"And what of Lord Adasca?"

"Inform him as to what I am doing, and give him command over one of the TIE squadrons. I trust him to make sure that Abraxas and Antherion are dealt with if they insist on conflict. Mercy first, war if they give us nothing in reply."

Cyrene fell silent as the tram came to a stop near the hangers. Cedric marched through the corridors, his stomach lurching as he came across the remains of the monstrosities Antherion and Abraxas had wrought. He paused to examine the corpses.

"Are they really so far gone that they can justify this to themselves?" He asked. One of the red-cloaks shrugged. "It was a matter of time Lord Grayson."

A sigh fell from Cedric's lips. "Yes, I suppose it was."

Not one to linger, Cedric continued on toward the hangers. Doors previously sealed parted way for the gathering. Within minutes, Cedric would find himself at the end of a long hall from [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]. The youth's voice buzzed from intercomms all around the Cathar and his Togorian entourage.

"You've one chance to lay down your arms. I know not why you fight in the name of a death cult that would as soon see you dead as it would us, but I will offer you a branch of peace. The Dominion has no quarrel with you. Put down your arms, and we may speak as men before anymore people need to die."

The red-cloaks stood at either side of Cedric in two groups of three, weapons lowered, though their stance was one of preparation. Not one of the guards thought the words would have any effect. The Archlord himself was not sure one way or another; it was rarely wise to make assumptions about strangers.

 

[TB-705]

The Acerbitas​

​

The new arrivals met with hungry grins all, crimson bright on their teeth, on their clothes, on the walls. The bespattered ranks of the Togorians parted and from their midst strode a leonine figure clad in an exosuit. Beneath a translucent helm lay umber features of cruel majesty, as arresting as the sunlit savanna swept in summer breeze - and as pitiless as the hunters that lurked within - scarred muzzle a map of battles past.

He had suns for eyes, yellow and burning, darkening at the edges to helium ash. They stared at the youth garbed in the armor of a dead kingdom. Consuming.

The captain of the Scourge served no cult, nor called any master. His aura exuded darkness in the Force. A distinct aroma, to those who knew the scent. Aged and rich, where the zealots of the Primeval were young and necrotic - like the first decay of a fresh corpse. He smelled of a steeped, ancient power. Every breath a lungful of seductive might.

A Sith.

And though he bore no weapons, only a fool would call him unarmed.

Thengil Ri'Shajirr, disgraced warlord of a fallen empire, leader of slaves, flicked his gaze across the speaker and let out a derisive chuff.

Coal-black lips parted and he spoke, voice deep as thunder, hot as lightning. The air trembled.

"There are no words between lions and men."


[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Isaac Rennek]

Port Menicha​

​

Chiloon Rif​

​

There was a slight disappointment in her that she would not participate in the meeting with the Blood Regent, but it was probably for the better all things considered.

Instead she was to tag along with this other fella, Vitor. Take his lead, or alternatively undermine him and cause him trouble. Who knew what awaited this duo that had never worked together before. But the words of Tai Fa would remain with her all the way until they met again

Do not fail me, please

And so they went to meet this mysterious fella. His appearance was a little unsettling, she had not come across his kind before. What unsettled her even more was the fact that he seemed to somehow know her name. Her surprise was showing, even though she did not speak.

Lord Fa's spymaster. Ah. That explains things. Could he be trusted? Could she? All up in the air, but she settled for a 'probably'.

Three powers. One were known for assassinations and the like, but another had grown immensely since the council had been liquidated. It was a mess one could only speculate about. With more intel, however, it seemed like the perfect set-up for them to come in and influence.

"Miss Del'Vaan reporting for duty" she said sarcastically with a theatrical salute. "Out of ideas but with her feet on the ground"

​

| [member="Tai Fa"] | [member="Vitor Avendahl"] | ​

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Location: Asteroid Field
Objective: Assault the Cathedral Ship
Complement: 60 Cerberus Shock Trooper's
Allies: Bartic Myth'rand [member="Dune Rhur"]
Enemies: The Slave Boethiah

There was a moment of silence over the comm network as their target came into view. The giant ship was oddly oblong for a warship but it was sizable none the less. As his transports pulled into a tighter formation the Mandalorian could not help but admire the thing he was going to try his hardest to blow up.

"I want one..." He muttered before pulling his helmet back over his face. "Captain, get us on that ship!" He ordered, the pilot giving him a curt nod as he toyed with the ship's systems. "Yes sir."

Knowing little of naval combat Zaz was content to let the experts handle such a situation, though he found some interest when he was hailed on the comm by a lone starfighter.

A Jedi? It was not like Zaz was going to turn down an extra body, regardless of their robe preference. "Commander Tal'verda." He corrected, the name master sounding all too pristine next to his raw Mandalorian name. "We'll take all the help we can get, Jetii." They continued to burst past the asteroid field, taking care not to drift too close to the floating spheres. So far the advance had been a peaceful one, the target ship had not responded to their hailing but it had also not attacked their transports. It was entirely possible it's communications systems were down, though he doubted it.

"All ships, prepare for a hard dock. Transport four, you're up." The pilot ordered, watching as the five ship's that followed widened their flight pattern once again.

Zaz aimed his finger for one of the ship's many large gate-like entrances that were placed on the ship. "Land us there, we can cut through that thing if necessary." As most of the transports continued to circle around the city-like ship Zaz watched his first transport touch down onto it's hull.

"Incoming! Incoming!" A voice caused an uproar over the comm channel. Immediately following blaster fire roared through the space around their formation of transports.

"Evasive maneuvers, we have incoming!" Zaz's pilot yelled out before breaking away from the main force. Zaz leaned forward in his chair, taking a good look at the fighters and gunships moving in to intercept their transports. "Karking pirates!" He cursed, activating his own comm system and keying it to the nearby fleet. "Bartic, where are those fighters?!"