Your Faith In Your Friends Is Yours | TSE Invasion of TRA Held Gree Hex

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

On Board The Dogged Hand - Lead ship of Assault Fleet Cinder.​

Coming in for landing on Gree​

[member="Thyne"] [member="Kor Vexen"] [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

[member="Vestille Thumahra"] [member="Djorn Bline"] [member="Khaji Ri'Had"] [member="Wyatt Morga"] [member="Solonariwan Tofusin"]​

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In any war, there would be casualties.

Joycelyn knew this, and she thought about it as she stared down at Thyne's upset face. She imagined his mangled body, limbs broken and twisted, and his gentle face caved in by the butt of a blaster rifle. It was not a vision of horror to her as much as a mere reflection of the reality she lived in. He would die, she would die, everyone would die, and when you looked closely enough there was no such thing as a beautiful corpse.

He did make a good point about swiping helmets and claiming the com was broken. They really ought to make some sort of fail-safe for that kind of thing. She bent down and picked up Thyne's helmet, turning it in her hand. "If you don't, you die."

Her words were flat in their delivery, accentuating the seriousness of the situation. Then, quickly, she put one of her large hands on Thyne's shoulder; the overlapping plates of her articulated gauntlets dug into the gaps in his plate, and the force of her grip held him in place as she placed the helmet on his head and pushed it down. It would be snug, perhaps a bit abrasive as she forced it on, but the helmet would adjust itself to fit him. She then put her hand on his chin and lifted his face to meet her gaze through the open visor of her own armour.

"If you take it off, I will kill you myself." "Trust me, Thyne, I will recognise you."

She lowered her own visor, blackened phrik jaws slamming shut around her face and the red eyes of the canine-headed helmet lighting up. She extended her arm to the side and called the songsteel shaft of her pike to her as she climbed on board one of the vehicles. Darth Vornskr the Second was about to enter battle.

* ' * ' * ' *​

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The preliminary ships had been launched from Assault Fleet Cinder's supporting ships, troops and equipment sent ahead of The Dogged Hand's invasion force to establish the preliminary foothold. While the Phi-Class dropships and the Orenth-Class walker carriers had considerable defences, the concentrated fire of Rebel Alliance air support took its toll.

One by one, ships burst into a deadly rain of fire and shrapnel, or plain just stopped working and fell from the sky. Men, women, cannons and walkers dropped thousands of meters down in through the atmosphere and crashed against the ground.

But the tide of the Sith Empire was not so easily halted.

The armour and shields of The Dogged Hand tanked blow after blow, reverberating internally like a drum being beaten to the call of war. Their return fire was limited and focused entirely on stopping missiles; auxiliary power was rerouted to the shields to stop the missiles from crippling the ship. Though, even the great defences of the Ferrata-Class carriers, such as it was, had their limits. One of the rockets penetrated through and shut down one of the rear engines.

It was to their relief that Solvognen, the ship of Khonsu Amon and his Thyrsian Sun Guard, came to their rescue. Soon after, A swarm of supporting fighters from Gehenna Fleet's own hangars, on the orders from General Vexen, swept in to alleviate the pressure of the Rebel Alliance's aerial assault on their dropships. Joining them were SI-TIED droid fighters from Assault Fleet Cinder's own supporting hangars. The automated ships were easily shot down, but made up for it in numbers. They swarmed against the Thunderbirds like a plague of locusts.

As The Dogged Hand pierced through the thick cloud cover, the damaged engine caused it to tilt. The bridge frantically worked to bring it back to square. After all, they carried an army in their belly. Joycelyn Zambrano and the Legionnaires within held on tight to the sudden shift. She looked up to see one of the tall cannons tilting, bonds snapping. Her left hand rose into the air as she focused the Force and pushed it up. It was heavy and it fought her will, but she gritted her teeth together.

Despite their tilt and their damaged engine, The Dogged Hand cleared the clouds. The spiderlike legs unfolded as the hulking ship floated towards the ground of Gree, fighting its own weight to slow its descent from crash to graceful landing. They counted on the support of their automated fighters, of the Solvognen, and of the fighters of Gehenna Fleet to watch their buttocks as they came in for a difficult landing on Gree.

The rain came down, pouring over The Dogged Hand as the ground extended beneath its metal feet. The other carriers of Assault Fleet Cinder spread out to solidify the perimeter.

 

[Darth Caecus]

Location: Satikan, Capital of Asation
Objective: Draw attention of the Locals
Allies: TSE, [member="Luca Thorne"]
Enemies: TRA, Open to Interaction

She hovered just in the doorway. Blue-grey eyes scanned, she shifted within the Force. Her attention was mostly on the outward- the feeling of people moving in the close vicinity. But she listened to Luca's voice in her ear, the sound of his fingers on the keys of the console.

Her mind was still in part on Carnifex. What would happen if they were discovered here. Conjecture only, but sound, based on history. The Dark Lord of the Sith did not strike either of them as the understanding sort.

His thoughts mirrored closely enough to her own that it wasn't until that admission laced with shame that she blinked.

"Luca."

Spoken out loud, a buzzing through the respirator mask.

She didn't leave her spot at the door- she couldn't. There was nothing she wanted to do more in that moment then bridge those steps, wrap her arms around him. But she stayed because their safety was more important. That first.

~I owe Saarai more than just my life,~ she said quietly, back over the subvocals. ~I owe him my freedom.~

Luca knew. The compulsion that had been instilled in the clone. To obey. A mere fail safe perhaps at first, but in the wrong hands making her no better than a puppet for other wills. Saarai had found the way to circumvent it. If not to remove it, to settle it into dormancy. It wasn't gone, but it could not be easily used to control her now either.

~We always knew the Empire would come knocking, asking its blood price. Something I will gladly pay for the freedom to be here with you. To love you, Luca. But I don't miss it. I wouldn't trade it, our life. Not unless I had no other choice. I'm not going anywhere. You won't lose me. Not to this.~

 

[Koda Fett]

OBJECTIVE: Secure Gree Technology Capture Miner
ALLIES: The Sith Empire
ADVERSARIES: The Rebel Alliance, [member="Amea Virou"]

This was it. This is where it all ended, or so it seemed.

Amea was down on her luck. Facing a figure who may be her equal, if not for the superior armour and gadgets that he wore. It always was an excellent idea to wear more than your opponent, and Fett knew that all too well. Mandalorian Armour, of all things, was praised for it's raw killing power. It should come to no surprise that it was what put him in the lead, at least for now - or so he figured.

​The clunk of his form striking the ground, departing the crate in which he stood on, echoed out across the seemingly silent area. His intention was to solely capture her, and bring her to Saarai. At that point he made up for losing the Gree Technology, and if not he'd have to choke those extra credits from the bird-like Sith's throat. He was a man of rash decision, really. Could hardly blame him, it was within his nature.

Fett shifted through the maze of crates, switching his blaster to stun rather than it's previously lethal ammunition type. His prying eyes scanned over each and every corner, point of ambush and more. His helmet amplified his senses, and whilst he couldn't see Virou, he may be able to hear her feet against the dirt. In the event he saw her, his Carbine was to ring out, firing in her direction.

 

[Tabigarashu Madara]

Allies: TSE, [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Belphaegor"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Anden Fancelo"] [member="Lok Munin"]
Enemies: TRA, [member="Cedric Grayson"] [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] [member="Noah Corek"]
Objective: Intelligence, Don't Die (so you know, the usual)

Hirou curled up, supported and protected by Matsu's hand- a warning returned with protection, the pair working with their abilities to support each other. Though if you had asked Hirou, they would have told you that Matsu was doing more than just the lion's share.

The little Nezumi did not know just what was happening outside. They could feel the vibrations, hear the explosions, the splintering, the shift and crackle and screaming of metal. And of men. They could feel Matsu- themselves- fall, but the Sith protected the passenger in her pocket easily, Hirou suffering no worse than a rather wild ride and rather extreme jostling.

Oddly, they noticed an unexpected blast of..... music?.... right before the doors closed behind Matsu, muffling it all.

Weird.

Maybe the explosions had damaged their ears. Hirou hoped not.

Hirou's head popped out of Matsu's pocket, ears swiveling and nose twitching. Then dove back in because Matsu was not quite done yet.

It was only when they reached a terminal that the Nezumi finally scrambled out of the pocket. Up her arm and to her shoulder, perching there and looking around for a moment before making the jump to the ledge. Back feet scrabbled for a moment, then caught purchase as they pulled themselves up.

"Think loud, got it!" Came the (surprisingly) cheerful reply. Hirou was as yet unaware that Matsu had been injured. If they had known that might have changed things, but the Sith Lord hid it well.

"I'm not sure if I'll be able to get the information I want from here," Hirou mused, as much to themselves as the Sith Lord at their back. "BUT I should be able to discover where I do need to go from here."

The little creature scampered, pushing keys with both front paws, running back and forth along the console controls.

"Come on come on let me- I'm in!" Hirou squeaked in triumph. "Okay, so here is the layout. Yes I was right I will need to get to the memory core to access what I need directly-"

And then the world seemed to explode around them, the air filled with shrapnel and pain. Hirou flattened themselves to the console controls, narrowly avoiding being skewed. The terminal was not so lucky, a shard of metal puncturing it and sending out a flurry of sparks as it sputtered and died. Cinders rained down on the Nezumi, singeing their fur and drawing a small yelp of pain as Hirou rolled.

 

[Delsin Kessler]

Objective: Retreat to the capital
Allies: Rebel Alliance [member="Wyatt Morga"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]
Enemies: Sith Empire (Engaging on [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] dropships and @Khonsy Amon corvette)
Equipment: In signature (Lights off missiles)
Forces: Thunderbird Starfighters (x12) Losed 3

Their troops managed to land on surface, while others dropped at a fast rate and crashed, killing dozens and dozens of Sith. Terrifing sight if your own soldiers saw ships falling with living people inside. That was a good trait in booma missiles. It didn´t destroy any machinery, but it turn it off in an instance. In a single second, his radar showed dozens of squads entering the orbit, and a corvette as support for the enemies dropship.

Solon had to start evasive maneuvers, losing three ships in a moment "Return to the capital, we are getting swarmed. We will need to regroup to a better location" his ship fire missiles to the skies, followed by everyone repeating his action. Every rocket was facing the enemy before they flew towards them, as a way to stop anyone from following them "Wyatt, i need support. I managed to lower their numbers but its still not enough" He didnt knew the location of Cedric, nor the others, but he would be in charge of the defenses of the city. And he would do a fine job to defeat them. His MK ship retreated, followed by his squads. For those three companion killed in that engage, they managed to takedown thousands of troops with equipment.

 

[Ursula Vizla]

Objective: I have no idea. Just shooting.
Allies: Rebel Alliance
Enemies: Sith Empire
Location: Hangar..
Gear (As it goes): Black Fligh suit, Osseus Class ExoSkeleton, Legacy System Beskar’gam (equipped with: Jetpack with two individual thrusters, one wrist rocket launchers, two cortosis gauntlets, two crushgaunts, one wrist mounted retractable vibroblades, and two wrist flamethrowers, one Mandalorian Power Shield, and one KE-1 Shoulder Mounted Slugthrower), AIMX-01 "Buckler" Energy Shield Cybernetic Arm, armorweare black cape with Vizla symbol in the back in red ink, pair of R82 jump boots, Utility Belt (equipped with: Two thermal detonators, one grappling spike launcher, ammo, one comlink, one EX-324 Serum Subjects, two hand granades).
Armory: One custom made Masamune, four Shiva Knifes, one T-7 ion disruptor rifle, two MT 14 Heavy Blaster Pistol.
Crew: Four mandalorian women affiliated with House Vizla, four Harbinger War Droid.

The tides of war were not on their side. Blood, death, pain, mourning, it was there in the beautiful symphony that was war. Soldiers dying due to wounds, some fought bravely, some died with honor, some were cravens that soil themselves or cried for their loved ones before being smashed by the enemy. She loved to hear them cry, to see them rally behind brothers and sisters, to see guts spilled in the floor by brutes, it was the thrill of a brave battle that made her laugh, that also made Ursula sweat and get wet, for piercing through the enemy and his lines, was what made them equals. Equals in dying, equals in fighting.

“Par kyr'am bal kote!”, she screamed in Mando’a, shooting the last charge in her T7 against a a trooper, throwing the rifle to her mandalorian friend in orange amor, so that she could recharge the gun. Ursula drawn both MT14 blaster, shooting left and shooting right in the troopers that showed in front of her. Inside the helmet, she activated the shoulder turret to high sensitivity alert, to fire at the nearest enemy target.

Her hand place the right pistol back in her waist, grabbing something else in the utility belt and turning to toss both granades already set to blow against the enemy waves, set in a way that if stopped by any force in the air, like those damn magical powers of the force sensitives, it would also go off immediately. Watching as the blast went off in the hangar, having her armorweare black cape dancing with the wind, listening to the enemies soldier crying and screaming as they died, feeling the thrill rushing through her veins and filling her heart with ecstasy.

And before she realized, three Sith troopers approached in her direction, in a speed fast enough to avoid her from grabbing the other blaster, mad with rage with murderous looks in their eyes, if she only could see them.

Ursula didn’t even flinched or tried, but instead of grabbing the gun, Vizala raised her open hand, allowing the flamethrower in her wrist to go off, releasing a huge wave of flames against the karklers. Laughing as she did it, watching the flames engulf the troopers like a sick image painted by a deranged painter, her left hand was raised, firing the blaster towards other troopers, without even paying attention as her allies rushed through her stand, making a stand against tyrants and covering her metal bubble butt. Picking the other MT14 heavy blaster and firing at will in the dogs in front of her. While listening her shoulder turret doing the same, that was a celebration, the grand celebration of war, followed by the feast of death, and she was starving.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

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Allies: [member="Noah Corek"] | [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] | [member="Ursula Vizla"]

Enemies: [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Belphaegor"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | @Anden Fencelo


[member="Noah Corek"] has saved them, at least for the moment. The line had been threatening to crumble beneath the crushing Sith assault, and only the timely introduction of the rotary cannon preserved it. The knight reached out in the empyrean to his friend, sending something of a feeling gratitude the soldier's way. That gratitude was quickly dashed as another strafing run forced a handful of hairline cracks through the bay doors. Such damage looked superficial to the untrained eye, but Cedric knew this vessel well. The doors would not hold indefinitely.

Cedric listened to the Sith's threats intently, and found himself somewhat disappointed. All beings could be saved, but they had to want that redemption. In this individual, he saw none of that desire, though the battle was still young. Despite the likelihood of receiving more threats in response, Cedric could not keep himself from speaking even as the Sith Knight's blade fell.

His own weapon hummed as it was raised in a two handed grip to block the savage blow. Rather than meet the knight with his own strength, Cedric caught the silvery-white blade with his own and turned, allowing his weapon to be guided to the floor in the process and hopefully the Sith's as well. It was a maneuver that would have left a traditional duelist open to an assault. Cedric, however, was not traditional. He'd never actually stopped turning, and forced the whole weight of his armored form hopefully into the Sith via rough a shoulder-shove.

"There's no poetry in this, just wasted life," the knight replied over the hiss of their twin blades. "Call your men off. That door won't open fast enough to save them, or you. The alliance does not execute its prisoners; your men can live comfortably until the war is over."

As the weapons met, the Blade of Ruusan began to make its influence known. It spoke in dull whispers when the weapon met, a quiet yet comforting voice that might sound as if they were the Sith's own thoughts speaking to him. Its tone was motherly.

"Let go," it murmured, "Let go, let go, let go. Save yourself, save your men. You can know peace. There is more than this."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Gree Enclave
Honestly Fething Creepy Shipyard
Allies: TSE, [member="Dante Sotari"]
Enemies: These Gree, but maybe not THOSE Gree(?), TRA, [member="Romi Jade"] [member="Aten Ramses"]

By the end of it Jairus was leaning heavily on one of his knees, breath heavy, blade bleeding as some of it was spread across. Dripping from his jaw where his thumb brushed it away, while he studied the corpse underneath him. They had struggled, made it a fight and that was all that the Sith Lord cared about. Only a handful but they were properly trained.

He looked up to Dante as she complained about the scenery again.

A snort.

"Stick with me, Lieutenant, you will see worse than this." Slowly pushing himself up and to his feet. Then lumbering -- lazy, eyes burning bright from the pain and from the energy coursing through him -- towards her and her prisoners.

Just two.

But- "That will be enough." It only took a handful of steps to settle next to them and then Dante asked the logical question. What was it exactly that he was planning on doing in the moment? His fingers brushed their brows, leaving red in its trace. "Making use of the situation, Lieutenant Sotari." Jairus informed her softly as he closed his eyes and the fingertips dug hard into their temples.

Under his touch the stunned soldiers shuddered and contoured in unnatural shapes, directions.

Seven breaths later?

They rose as one next to him.

"Go find your Masters, boys, behave normally for me, will you?" Until I call for you. As one the soldiers saluted and then scurried off from where they had come from. In the direction of Romi and Aten. Scared, battered, but still alive.

"I do so enjoy holding a few more cards in my hand."

 

[The Lurking Presence]

ALLIES: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Anden Fencelo"] | [member="Lok Munin"]
ENEMIES: TRA | [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] | [member="Noah Corek"]
OBJECTIVE: Survive and take control of the Hangar
GEAR: Zelroth's Rest

Lawless discord, punctuated by the bedlam snarl of nauseating close-to-mid range combat. The Hangar of the Acerbitas had become a tomb of howling agony and unequaled fervor. Those doomed with the burden of bearing witness, would forever find themselves less than they had been. Minds mutilated, crueler and less forgiving, more monster than men.

Death lurked at every intersection between the comatose vessels stored here. A battle line fractured at one end, where Soldier's were whittled in to works of shockingly morbid art from the marksmanship of [member="Noah Corek"], and withered across it's center cut where the two sides - Rebel and Sith - were divided. The Alliance was winning, slowly but surely, [member="Cedric Grayson"]'s presence, and the championing residence of his Lightsaber, elevating the morale of his Marines to a fanatical level.

With the skillful intervention of [member="Lok Munin"], challenging Corek in to confrontation, who knew how much longer the Sith Troopers could have held under such pressure.

Another resounding clap of thunder deafened those closest the Hangar Doors, this breach needed to happen yesterday, but the tenacity and courage of the Rebels could not come in to question. Each Fighter Wing deployed found only constant harassment as they dashed in and across on their strafing runs. Constant pressure from Anti-Fighter Turrets and nimble Pilots forcing the Sith to break formation and race off to answer them in acrobatic duels for clearance.

"Consolidate on me! " Sergeant Quasar suddenly demanded towards the Units closest his position, around him the men and women of the Rotworms that were still Combat Capable, stacked up in mutual support arrangements, dispensing blasts at will from their Rifles at any enemy that presented themselves.

"Not looking good! "

"I'm running low!! "

"Come on, you karkin' feth of a Rebel piece of chit! " Quasar hissed, his jaw clinched so rigidly, as he fought to free the Fuel Line off from the Charge Port of a Galaxy-Class Bomber, even he was surprised his teeth hadn't snapped from the pressure. He yanked. Wrenched! Bolts lancing in to the ship, spraying sparks and microscopic shards of glowing shrapnel that left his arms and the joints of his armor aching and leaking thick strands of blood. "Kark! You! "

Finally!

The Line snapped free!

He took a moment, pulling and loosening the spool, his hand already on the pumping lever. "How much line?! " His voice was going hoarse, dry and irritated, his head ringing from the cacophony of battle and the throbbing music.

"Twenty Meters! " a reply was produced in return.

"Suppressing fire! "

As Sergeant Quasar hurried forward, his men began to lay in on their attack. Burst after burst of Blaster Rifles glittering across the Hangar, pinning Rebels back, out of the Sergeant's path. Those that sought confrontation, found it, their bodies left riddled and smoking. Further and further, Zavir snaked along, edging himself in to position where the Soldiers of the Empire were being destructively overwhelmed.

Then, with a twist of a lever, and a pool of Starfighter fuel spraying out in a sloshing path before him, a quick bolt from a man at his rear produced flame. Suddenly, Marines were ablaze, a tongue of orange and blue extending nearly thirty-two meters from the Hose. Their bodies lathered and crackling, gear and clothes burning. The flesh blackening under this blanket of greedy, glowing death.

Let them glisten and blister. Let them all coruscate for their crimes against the Empire!

The Hangar Doors boomed again, another saturated with multiple blasts that webbed glowing lines through the metal. Fractures in the facade that spoke volumes, but was a tale not yet entirely told. Still they stood.

Still the Battle for the Hangar raged.

Belphaegor's arms lowered with Cedric's, allowing the man to muscle his blade down with thin resistance. He had savvy, and technique, a markedly cunning Warrior - no doubt. Covered himself well, moved well, walloped hard. The Maenan mused, absorbing the impact of the Jedi's shoulder mostly on his left bicep and elbow. It'd been forceful enough to dislodge Belphaegor backwards, though not ferociously, it seemed neither man was foolish enough to commit the transgression of blind aggression impulsively.

Or perhaps, in Belphaegor's case, it was owed entirely with respect to the influence of Zelroth.

Perhaps a different tactic then?

Hmmmm, the Sith Knight pondered as he disengaged after the shoulder thrust, presenting his back for the smallest moment as he uncurled his left hand from the bottom of his Lightsaber hilt and shook the pulse of the weighty thud out of limb. The Hangar was aglow with the decay of hatred and anguish, the very thing that fed him with Power.

But there was a strange nagging, an itch. . . a whiiissper. Mother Matsu? No. Not her.

With his left towards the Jedi Knight, Belphaegor was circling the man again, 5.8 meters away, precisely. Those amber eyes studying the grim battle they were but one small part of. "I have already spoken, Jedi! " The Pale man said pointedly, suddenly in stance again. His Lightsaber held high, it's point angled down and in line with Cedric; His body presented almost sideways to the man, left leg forward, clearly not in attack distance from this range. "Give your men the Order, and you and I can settle the score. Unnllesss, of course. . . you have no. . "

This attack came far more hatefully, Belphaegor's body leaning to Cedric's right, feet taking a half step that put him within 5.7 meters - still out of range. But as his left hand maneuvered the butt-end of his Hilt, winding the blade in a circular stroke from his left side, the Dual-Phase setting was abruptly triggered; extending the reach of his weapon considerably, as it made a slash for the right side of Cedric's helmet and would follow down to the neck and shoulder.

"Desire, to spare them this misery! "

 

[Dante Sotari]

Gree Enclave
Honestly Fething Creepy Shipyard
Allies: TSE, [member="Jairus Starvald"]
Enemies: These Gree, but maybe not THOSE Gree(?), TRA, [member="Romi Jade"] [member="Aten Ramses"]


Stick with me and...

How about no thank you?

If this was the sort of thing that working for Jairus was going to be as a regular deal, Dante was seriously considering the potential repercussions of telling a Sith Lord to feth off.

And it only got worse from there.

It was probably good that her face was hidden by the helmet. As she watched him 'make use of the situation', the expression on her face would have given away just how deeply uncomfortable what he was doing made her. This wasn't what Dante did. She was a soldier, yes. She killed people, she made no bones about that. She was not, nor did she pretend to be, a good person. But what he was doing here was a particular perversion. It left her cold in ways that war never had.

It was so easy.

And what was to stop him from doing that to her?

A pause..... had he already?

No. She'd know.... wouldn't she?

Dante breathed in slow and deep, once, twice, a third time, deliberately slowing her heart rate that was trying to ratchet up into the triple digits. All of this only confirmed her decision to keep Morgan far, far away from this man and anything to do with him.

She didn't respond to his comment about cards. Just a curt nod. There was nothing to say, after all. But as they turned to head back in the direction they had been going, she could feel an itch at the center of her shoulder blades where she imagined his eyes were.

They came to a fork (ugh, what was this, a 63 degree angle? Why just WHY?). A tiny blaze, easy to miss, had been left, indicating the direction the others had gone. A quick check over the comms confirmed that they had not found what they were looking for, so the pair took the opposite direction. A few meters and the hallway curved and opened-

"Feth me," Dante breathed, stepping out onto the catwalk. One hand gripped the rail as she looked out over the enormous expanse. Suspended walkways criss-crossed the huge space, hanging over the lower level at uneven intervals. Huge armatures, purpose unknown, suspended from the ceiling. As they watched, an aperture in the floor opened, seemingly from nowhere- more a wound in flesh than anything she could explain better- she had been having difficulty with scale until she saw a ship rise out of it. One of the arms swung around with too many joints, plucking it up and 'handing' it off to the next. In a series of movements the ship traveled across the hangar only to be deposited in what she could only describe as a cradle on the far side- slowly being absorbed through it.

"I'd like to tender my resignation now," Dante muttered.

 

[Anden Fancelo]

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OBJECTIVE: Survive.
EQUIPMENT: Mark I Ghoul TIC Armor | Mark I Banshee IAW | Glie-50 Blaster Pistol
ALLIES: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | [member="Belphaegor"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]
ENEMIES: [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] | [member="Noah Corek"] | [member="Ursula Vizla"]

Blaster bolts, fire, explosives, and more blaster bolts skid by the quartet of Gravewalkers as they regroup with the main force after dealing with any stragglers on the sides. They reached into a large crate of cover where they were met with Sith troopers, as if influenced by the Lady Matsu herself. But Fancelo knew better. This batch of sith troopers that the mandalorian female would be giddy over in the next few minutes... were cowards. Absolute cowards, marking this day as the day they expire. Perhaps it is, but the lieutenant was prepared to provide the idea of the opposite as the troopers wailed. Reida would already begin tending to the wounded, assisting the other medics. While the unknown squadmate and Carmine pushed forward to take shots at the rebellious enemy. The El-tee sighed, speaking out to the small group of troopers curled up by a crate.

"Listen! I understand that the chances of us winning this might be low... but we still have a chance! If you give up now, it'll all be for nothing! Don't you want to have the chance to go back home and meet your loved ones again!? Don't you want to fulfill your part for the Empire! Your duty! What you sworn yourselves to do! Would you rather be remembered as a coward that died in fear!? Or do you want to be remembered as a warrior that survived this fight!? Choice is yours!"

He spoke rather quickly, he didn't wanna waste anymore time than he already did. He gathered himself and checked his pulse weapon. It's loaded, good. He then rushed out of the cover, getting low, his intention was to push forward and reach his 2 squadmates. Fancelo threw himself to the small barrier they hunkered down upon, looking over to the unknown squaddie. "Maxevan! What's the situation!?" The unknown squaddie identified as Maxevan peeked over the barrier, only to hunker down quickly to avoid getting shot as some bolts hit his side of cover. Max yelled out. "Some white and blue kriffhead just pulled out the big guns and is going crazy with that thing. I'd say he's pretty good with it!" Fancelo then held his hand up, his expression hidden under his mask, and then that music... that dreadful music. "Then why hasn't someone taken a shot at hi- what the hell is this...?" He'd gesture up at the ceiling, where most of the sound was being produced. The White and Blue man, Noah was mocking us as sith troopers died. Wow.

Moments later, the Gravewalkers were pinned like some other groups closeby. The group merely blindfired at the Rebels over the small barrier. And Reida managed to make it over to them and join the activity. Carmine then looked back, finding the dedicated Sergeant Quasar rally the troops and advance. "El-tee! I think that's our cue!" Fancelo lowered into cover again, reloading his weapon as he then glanced over to the neighboring sergeant advancing as suppressing fire was provided. He canted his head from side to side. Good, that was the first word that came to Fancelo's mind. He then barked at Maxevan. "Max! Provide covering fire!" And with that, Max did. "Alright, let's go Onyx!" Fancelo yelled as he vaulted over the barrier and began to fire at the general direction towards the rebels alongside the sergeant and his men. Fancelo followed by Carmine and Reida, made it to the next point of cover and continued providing fire. After the sergeant's major feat with the use of fuel and flame. Practically pulling a Kerrigan. Onyx kept firing, Carmine then yelled out. Looking over towards the Mandalorians of Vizla. "Hey we got more mandalorians on our sid-... oh wait no they ain't on our side." Fancelo then spoke into comms. "Maxevan, push forward and merge with us! We're taking out these mandalorians!"

Onyx then popped out of cover and began to engage the individuals of House Vizla, firing their pulse weapons at their general direction.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

(Phone post. Sorry for spelling errors and the lack of formatting)

​

Allies: [member="Noah Corek"] | [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] | [member="Ursula Vizla"]

Enemies: [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Belphaegor"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | @Anden Fencelo

For a moment, Cedric had paused to consider the Sith's offer. He had dealt with far too many Sith betrayals in the past to take him simply at his word, but Cedric was a man that loved life. Any chance to preserve the lives of his comrades was something he was willing to take, not that he really believed the Sith's constituents would actually honor this decision via duel.

That consideration was dashed as a violent gout of flame tore through half the hanger, incinerating a number of friends instantly. The Knight had accepted the fact that many of them would perish in this war, but they had all given oaths of service just as he had. Letting these men meet death in honorable combat was something he could reconcile with himself after speaking with the majority of them earnestly about the threat they went to face.

The men and women whose screams were drowned out as flames jumped down their throats and seared their insides did not die in such a way. The mass death sent something akin to a tremor outward within the force, the particularly agonizing form of their demise only adding to the weight of that ripple. Those lucky enough to be out of the fire's way were momentarily taken aback by the gruesome deaths of their comrades. What followed was the farthest thing from fear however, as a righteous fury overcame the lucky survivors. They fought not to defend the Acerbitas, nor to protect the Alliance, but to avenge their friends.

Caught in the center of it all, Cedric could only watch as he and his opponent were nearly surrounded by the growing flames. They did not stop as the fuel lines were set alight, but rather began to spread across the hanger. Fire suppression systems engaged and gouts water fell from the industrial sprinklers, but the flame had fuel to feed upon. Despite he best efforts of the Acerbitas' AI, the fire could not be controlled by any natural means.

It was in observation of all this that Cedric faltered. The silver blade extended beyond the defensive reach of his own weapon, its violent hum thundering in Cedric's ears as it cut into his helmet. The phrik resisted it to a certain degree, though the painfully intense heat still dinged Cedric's face beneath the helm. It cut through his cowl, making it fall down to his shoulders, and then scared across the phrik shoulder plate in such a way that Cedric found himself cursing under his breath. He drew back immediately out of the range of the Sith's extended weapon.

"I think your men have other ideas," Cedric replied gravely as he drew back a few paces. As a section of the outer hanger shattered inward from another lucky missile, it seemed as if the rebels had lost here. Despair would have taken the minds of most, but these idiots were particularly crazy bunch. The soldiers continued fighting on as the flames greatly reduced the amount of cover available to them.

"I'm sorry you had to come here." He added with legitimate regret. The Knight remained motionless, his blade held in a two handed grip, held pointed up at his waist, and utterly unmoving. Outwardly he seemed suicidal in his intention to continue combating the Sith as the fire drew closer to their duel. Inwardly, however, it was a different story.

He reached out into the empyrean, and felt it reach back to meet him. Just as on Dubrillon, its energies surged through his limbs and filled him with a sensation of purpose. Before, that purpose had manifested in a physical representation of the light itself, an effect that Cedric had induced on an entirely instinctive level - he had no idea how to recreate it. Then again, he didn't need to.

The knight's talents had always revolved around the manipulation of energy. Controlling simple matter via telekinesis was an ability lost to him, unlike most force sensitives, but his other skills had been honed in its absence. When he called out to the flames,, they responded.

He felt the heat of it in a spiritual sense. It did not burn him as it would had he touched it physically, but rather showed him the destructive power it could unleash. Fire both gave and destroyed life, much like the force, and that was something Cedric intimately understood.

Channeling the flames was no different than channeling the empyrean through his body. He took hold of the beast in his mind's eye, and for a moment, it took hold of him. The death those flames had caused rolled into Cedric in such a way that one could only describe it as immediate and emotionally devastating, akin to watching one's family slaughtered before him. Such dark emotion threatened to overrule Cedric's control and shatter his very mind, but these were emotions he had felt before.

On Ession. On Dagobah.

He met those feelings, understood them, respected them for their significance, and cast them aside. They would bring him nothing but damnation.

Clear of mind, Cedric urged the flames forth. They halted where they were spreading near the rebels, seemingly held back by some invisible force field. Then they began to spread far faster than they had naturally, but in another direction entirely. The column of flame coalesced into a tall tornado of destruction; keeping it together in such a way took every iota of Cedric's concentration, and it was all he could do to hold the twister suspended above the combat for a fraction of a second. He managed to angle that flame just barely in the direction he wished it to fall...

And then he let go.

The torrent of fire roared across the battlefield, and fell in something akin to an avalanche toward the Sith soldiers and the Knight that had sought to challenge Cedric.

May you find the peace and happiness in death that you denied yourself in life. Chaos take you.

 

[Djorn Bline]

​

Location: Capital City Outskirts --> Capital City
Allies: TSE | [member="Vestille Thumahra"] | [member="Kor Vexen"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] |[member="Khaji Ri'Had"] | [member="Darth Voracitos"]
Enemies: TRA | [member="Bernard of Arca"] | [member="Wyatt Morga"]
Objective: Complete assignment
Gear: Link, minus two thermal detonators

Pants and mild breathing was exhaled and inhaled from Djorn's nose and mouth. With the running, now was jogging, and equipment he carried one would expect him to be tired. But this was something that Djorn was expected to do in his training back when he joined the military, and recruited by the Saaraisash. Of course, this was without any energy boosters or steroids so this wasn't unfamiliar for the Inquistor. It'd be nice if he had some booster to improve himself on this hike, but alas he did not packaged any. Just needed to adjust his pacing to his own liking in order to not pass out or take a quick minute break.

After some moments passed by, the Agent finally arrived to his destination to see swarms of dropships and other aerial vehicles descending down to the barren earth of Gree. Fighters and the like were most likely tasked with establishing air dominance while dropships would transport their loads of soldiers and vehicles. He delve into cover with the reflec allowing him to blend in with the little, limited environment that Gree could offer and changed his main rifle from the marksman variant to the assault rifle variant.

Some distance away Bline spotted a platoon of Imperial Legionnaires that was coming his way. They were perfect for what he was about to do.

Suddenly the Inquisitor received a message from his fellow agent, Thumahra, but it was cut off and incomplete.

"Agent Thumahra to Bline, unders--"

He could tell that it was cut off voluntarily, and not from jammers. There were cries in the background which helped explain, something was going on. Hopefully his cover wasn't exposed as Djorn and Vestille were vital elements in doing silent, discreet operations against the Rebels.

"Agent Thumahra! Do you copy," Djorn said, trying to reach communication with the other operative but was only greeted with static noises. "Dammit, hope he didn't blow it off," he said to himself as he then attached the thermal detonator launcher on his DC-17 pistol with one thermal detonator ready in its barrel. He estimated the distance from him and the marching Imperial platoon, and how big of an arc he needed. With his brain calculating and adjusting the arc to the right fit Djorn fired his first round of thermal detonators and begin reloading it following the succession. The arc was not meant to kill or injure his fellow comrades, just to cause panic and obstruct their pathway as General Vexen ordered. The detonator exploded on impact, resulting with the soldiers obviously taking cover. The second detonator was launched at the same general area of the first one, causing more damage. Placing back his pistol in his holster Djorn propped his assault rifle and began firing rounds of slugs at his fellow Imperials. If some managed to hit them, then it would likely cause some injuries but nothing too lethal; however, most of the firing was inaccurate on purpose as Djorn didn't want to harm or kill his fellow Imperials.

After more or so half the clip was emptied, the Inquisitor picked himself up from his position and began to retreat towards the Capital City. Surely this would garner the attention of the Imperial forces that landed on the ground and medics would attend to their wounded while others returned fire where Djorn was and sent out units to sweep the area for any Rebels. This was just enough to sell it to General Vexen.

"General, my assignment is complete. I hope it's good enough for you," the Agent said via encrypted commlink to Vexen. Would he receive any more tasks from the General? He didn't know, but he was running for the Capital City to see what he could do to help. Perhaps cause some havoc for the citizens with protesting against the Rebels of the evacuation orders and blame it on the rebellion? It was a thought...a thought that gave him a smirk.

 

[Wyatt Morga]

Apprehensive, watching the end come...

Allies: TRA │ [member="Bernard of Arca"]
Enemies: [member="Alkor Centaris"] │ [member="Kor Vexen"] │ [member="Darth Voracitos"] │ [member="Vestille Thumahra"] │ [member="Djorn Bline"] │ [member="Khaji Ri'Had"]

The bot offered the translation on behalf of Kor to the council, letting his synthetic overtones carry the exact mood the general had already begun to spin. Almost immediately the council had spurred themselves into gossip, the chatter raising in their evacuation frigate as arguments began to take place once more;

“The Sith look to give us asylum as they raze our planet!”, a younger of the group spouted.

“Nonsense, they only hope for our protection.”

“If their concern was our protection, they’d leave us to follow the path we are already taking.”, another quipped.

“More importantly, if we choose to stay in the battlefield, with the Sith or otherwise, we risk losing more than we would leaving.”

“And if we say no?”

“Then we learn if the Sith are truly what the rebels say they are, or if it is the rebel’s we should be wary of.”

The arguments kept up for some time, leaving the communications between the Sith General and the Grand Council quiet for some time; only to be brought up a few minutes later. Once more, the traditional protocol droid designed specifically with the Gree in mind offered a somewhat refined tone to their recipient;

“Greetings, General. Once again, The Grand Council has come to the conclusion of neutrality. They have decided that of the millions of people leaving the planet, the sith do not have the capacity to offer temporary asylum; especially with the rebel fleets currently engaged.”

“We send our deepest apologies, General, but we will maintain our current vector until the planet is pacified. Until then, we wish you luck.”, the droid offered once more.

With that, the connection would go quiet once more, for Kor to bring up for another transmission or to lie dormant. The council ship fell in line with hundreds more, trailing from the planet in an organized and well off evacuation attempt; with 60 million being somewhat small scale considering historic evacuations.

Between the Sith fleet stood the still fighting Rebel fleet; with the Acerbitas in the middle. The evacuation had already sent millions off the planet; but time was growing thin. A rebel that had managed to bypass the Sith checkpoints on the planet offered a quick message to [member="Cedric Grayson"], the Jedi Commander of the The Rebel Alliance;

“Evacuation is 60% complete, Commander. The rest are on their way out.”

---

In the Capital Building, the rebels watched with some wonder as Wyatt set himself apart of them and began some wild speech. To them, he had become somewhat of an icon; something to raise their moral through sheer fighting spirit alone. Afterall, there wasn’t too many men in the galaxy who would walk outside alone and face down a Sith Lord and his Legion of Doom so lightly; but Sergeant Cromwell had fought with the Jedi enough to know that this plan served two purposes.

Sure, it raised morale of the rebels and got them ready to fight against forces that would have easily broken them on looks alone; but more importantly it bought them time. They’d been using it well enough so far, some watching him give his speeches and taunts, while others still moved the equipment they’d intended for use as guerilla units. Setting it up seemed a little premature, but it’d have to do now rather than later; considering what they were up against afterall.

A quick communication broke his concentration, that of [member="Solonariwan Tofusin"],

"Wyatt's busy kid. Get your squadron back to the main fleet, and prepare for evacuation. The city is almost all but run by the Sith, and we've only got those volunteers here willing to stay.", he said in a tone as thick as mud.

"I repeat, get off the planet. Live your life another day."

With that, he sighed and moved his attention back at the battle he faced before him. The thought had passed that they might not get dropships to evacuate them any time soon, but the way this was going he couldn't imagine anyone getting off. He didn't know what Cedric did in another life, but they were coming at the rebels with everything they had, and the rebels only had the tactics that served the many other underdog armies in the past. He only hoped it'd turn out to be enough.

As Sergeant Cromwell looked over his troops, he tightened the strap to his blaster; letting it rest snugly against his shoulder incase some sith had gotten around them. He didn’t suspect it, with how locked down the building was, but there had always been a surprise when facing the enemy; it didn’t matter what it was. In his other hand, he pulled up the holopad that kept him in touch with the forces around the city; or rather those directly under him. After skimming the majority of it, something stuck out to him;

“Unknown rebel cells are attacking local outposts.”

He typed back a rude response, something along the lines of ‘Knock it off, idiots.’

“They’re dark, Sir. Not on known records.”

Kark, they knew the game plan before it began. Save the shots for when the civilians left, if able; and yet someone somewhere had decided to do some pot shots.

“Send a local team that hasn’t gone dark yet. Check callsigns, and get back to me as soon as possible.”

With that, Cromwell looked back out the window once more; keeping his attention trained on the Jedi for some sort of signal. Something to let him know to start firing.

[member="Djorn Bline"]

 

[Kalyn Tal'verda]

Objective: Get a map
Location: Sector E7
Equipment: Flasbang x2 | Smoke Grenade x3 | A-TICKS x20 | Combat Shotgun - 12 gauge | Cutting Torch | Grapple Launcher | Mag Boots | Breathing mask
[member="Verse Taggart"] [member="Darth Imperia"]

Lyra counted the 20 or so knives that lined the inside of her long duster coat, they were very special knives, designed to cut through just about anything, but that was not all. She also had a rather well designed combat shotgun, perfect for close quarters and for clearing hordes of goons, but the knives were much more fun. The torches were almost cut through, and just as a precaution the crews put on helmets or breathing masks just in case their intrustion caused any unintended problems to their air supply, suffocating to death was not her cup of tea.

She continued to count the various pieces of equipment and other accoutrements that lined the inside of her coat. Three smoke grenades, three flash bangs, all the usual suspects. There was also a cutting torch and some det charges for breaching doors. As the team made the final preparations to breach Lyra slipped on a lightweight oxygen mask, bulkier and sturdier than the cheap plastic ones, but still able to not provide too much of an issue mobility wise.

Finally the cutting noise let off and the lieutenant moved towards the floor placed cutting port.

"Ready when you are ma'am"

"Lets do this"

Lyra then kicked in the hull piece on the floor tossing in a flashbang, waiting for it to go off before hopping in. A small squad of security forces was already there, about 4 men, a calm before the storm if you will. Disoriented by the flashbang Lyra threw two knives into one of them, cybernetically enhanced reflexes helping with accuracy and speed. The other two were just getting their bearings as the rest of the squad came through the hatch to take the other two out with well placed. The rebels were no grunts, however they were nowhere near as good as any sith special forces, they relied on unconventional tactics and obfuscatory warfare to take the day. They knew they wouldn't win in a direct engagement.

Lyra retrieved the two knives from the corpses, cleaning off the cauterized blood as she looked for something to slice into.

"Ma'am we should probably keep going."

"No wait a moment." She said taking a datapad off one of the guards.

Sticking the knife into the device, she began to type things into her wrist computer, and just like that she had a floor map of the ship, or atleast a map of the areas this grunt had access too, which was not a lot.

"We need to find an officer if we want to get a better picture of where we are, either that or ill need to find a main access terminal. Either way we are going to need to fight our through. Just pick a direction and keep fighting til we get what we need." She said ripping the knife from the pad and throwing it to the floor. Little did she know there were no main terminals, at-least those that she had the skills to hack, therefore she would need to go the datapad route.

The sounds of doors hissing around the corner was their signal to get going, and Lyra obliged that instinct kindly.

"Lets get going." And just like that they went.

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Koda Fett"]

The air that filtered through her breathing mask still hissed with a whine as the fight went on. Her eyes hazily swept across the field to try and spot her opponent, yet he was nowhere to be seen. She could hear him though. She could feel the subtle thuds in the field as he shifted through their new playfield.

Like a rat in a maze she too shifted along its unknown paths to try and get a jump on him. It was tense, she knew that things weren’t looking their best. She knew that in this moment she should have cut her losses and gotten out of here, but that was hardly a possibility at this point. The ship had already sailed, and quite literally so as their maze would prove.

Sweeping up from behind the corner of a crate and there he was.

Back towards her she entered a sprint. Rifle raised before her to whack him above the head to throw him to the ground. This could be it, the win she needed.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Location: Asation
Objective: Do evil things
Allies: [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Taeli Raaf"], [member="Fiolette Yvarro"], [member="Darth Caecus"], [member="Luca Thorne"], [member="Kaalia Pavanos"], [member="Preliat Mantis"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Silas Mantis"], [member="Ordo Darnuhoy"]
Enemies: [member="Varex"], [member="Avoim Oeymo"] | [member="Kamon Vondiranach"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Valkren Calderon"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]
Gear:

• Below Signature
• Shield Talisman
• Pins of Protection

The damp, humid air clung to the Emperor's body like a shroud. However, unlike the others who languished and suffered under the oppressive conditions of the swampy environment, the Emperor was far more acclimated to this type of weather. He had been raised on a jungle world, and though his childhood on Panatha had been brief before his family had been made to suffer exile, he had never forgotten what it was like living in such inhospitable surroundings.

And this place was not unlike the fetid mires of the Blackmoor Marshes.

A shrill cry echoed across the swampland, a perimeter alert from one of the many sithspawn that traversed the outer wetlands for intruders. Several officers and sorcerers looked to the Emperor for instructions, while others went off ahead to investigate and relay information back to the rest of the Sith that stayed behind. "Move the Rathtars to locate these interlopers," echoed the voice of the Dark Lord through their communication pieces, relaying his orders across the entirety of the pack. "Find them and lure them into an ambush. Like the beasts we command, we are stronger and more cunning together than we are apart. Show them the folly of their actions."

The Sith had mapped the swamplands around the hypergate prior to the Emperor's arrival and possessed intimate knowledge of the surrounding environment that gave them an advantage in navigating it. It was the standard Imperial protocol to understand your surroundings before you engaged the enemy in combat, ensuring that every advantage was afforded to you and detracted from your foe.

 

[Thyne]

​

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Kor Vexen"] | [member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Darth Voracitos"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

[member="Vestille Thumahra"] | [member="Djorn Bline"] | [member="Khaji Ri'Had"] | [member="Wyatt Morga"] | [member="Solonariwan Tofusin"]​

There really wasn't much room for standing ground when Joyceyln was involved. She held both rank and overall physicality over him, way above him. So when she bent down to take up his helmet, he naturally backed up a pace or two, just barely short of breath from his rant, moreso concerned his outburst would merit some form of punishment.

Her grip on his shoulder was paralyzing, as if he were prey caught in the headlights of a speeder. For a moment, the boy was quite convinced she would smack him, Thyne flinching away though not getting far at all. The helmet was far from a pleasant experience, pushing up against his nose, stray hairs getting moved to locations where they itched. Just like that, everything felt so restricted.

With Joyce's threat, he gave a bit of a whine, trying to twist out of her grip. The armor did him no favors, meant for a being far less flexible than Thyne or his original. Siblings weren't supposed to threaten each other, he was pretty sure. Not in the way Joyce did, at least. Certainly, there was room to jest, threats to murder or maim or tell mom of the other's actions. Usually, only the latter held any weight. In Thyne's case, he had little doubt Joyce was jesting.

The Legionnaires were keen to ignore the boy who stood in their midst. Unlike his adopted sister who had proven herself time and time again, Thyne was an unknown force. One that, as shown by Joyce's display, was subdued rather easily. So, he stood among them in silence, occasionally casting a glance around for some inkling of what was going on, though most of his time was spent with his mind elsewhere.

He was jostled by every movement the transport underwent in the descent to the surface, bumping against several Legionnaires until one finally took one for the team and just held on to him. As they took to the ground, Thyne found himself avoiding concussion by the scruff of his armor, much to the annoyance of the one who'd taken responsibility for him. Was he in over his head? It was quite possible. Just as it was possible that these troops would be taken by surprise should they find themselves in the boy's element. Regardless of the case, he was starting to wonder if he should've stayed home.

 

[Eugen Aker]

​

Location: Spaaaace
Objective: Hunting
Allies: RA, AIE, SJO
Opposition: Sith Empire and Friends
Directly Engaging: [member="Darth Carnifex"], eventually.

Allyson said she was fine, and she felt fine, but Jyoti was still unsure about letting her go.

Everything could be going well, then the Corellian seized [SIZE=11pt]upon[/SIZE] the sight of Carnifex, or even worse, turn reckless in a personal attack of revenge. She would be devastated putting Allyson out there if she was found to be unfit for command. On the other hand, her technopathic were unique and vital, something no one else could emulate within the Silver Order. She would always be needed.

She mulled over a final decision while Allyson came close to offer her a comforting caress and make every assurance that she would be okay. She was quiet all the while, looking upon the Corellian wistfully like it would be her last time.

“I...trust you, but remember that this isn’t about settling personal vendettas. This is about crippling the Sith Empire by the surest way possible - cutting off the head of the snake with the elimination of Carnifex and his cabal of lieutenants.”

Jyoti offered a word of caution because she had been in her shoes, herself a [SIZE=11pt]victim[/SIZE] of Carnifex’s atrocities on Deneba. Mass shootings against civilians, bioweapons, child suicide bombers. His “Black Empire” attacking for seemingly no other reason than because of [SIZE=11pt]the presence[/SIZE] of the Republic and the Jedi on the backwater planet.

Ever since then, all her decisions had been driven by cold anger and vengeance. However, by [SIZE=11pt]given[/SIZE] into her hatred she had almost destroyed everything she loved.

It had killed her.

Never again. She would use this second chance in life to do things right.

She broke out into [SIZE=11pt]a small[/SIZE] smile and pulled in Allyson for a tight embrace, letting out a content sigh.

“You still have some curious notions of fun...I’ll take a quiet dinner on the lakefront [SIZE=11pt]every time[/SIZE].”

She pulled away, brushing her thumb over Allyson’s lips. Then she unbuckled a sheathed dagger from her belt.

“This was given to me by [SIZE=11pt]Valae[/SIZE] herself,” she explained, slowly sliding the imbued blade from its special sheath of nullifying resin. Freed from its sheath, the dagger would radiate with a strong aura of the Light. “It will help calm your nerves and protect you from the Sith and their Dark Arts.

Before handing it over to Allyson, she pricked her finger of the tip of the dagger, then smeared [SIZE=11pt]a thin[/SIZE] line of fresh blood from end to guard. However, the bright crimson trail disappeared almost as quickly as it had been made, like the metal had sucked up the blood.

“I’m with you, always.” She sheathed the blade and handed it to Allyson.

There was so much more she wanted to say, but they couldn’t wait any longer, it was time to act. She cleared her throat and straightened up back to her usual stiff self, waving for Allyson to follow her back to the bridge.

“Captain,” she greeted with a small nod. “How goes the progress?”

“Most of the migrant fleet and their escorts [SIZE=11pt]has[/SIZE] evacuated, all the stragglers should be out of the nebulae within the next 20 minutes. Gothic (Silver Spacy Battlegroup) and Phoenix Fleet (Rebels) are ready to deploy.”

“Very good, Phoenix will be held in reserve. We don’t really need them unless we get into a [SIZE=11pt]drag-out[/SIZE] fight with the Sith, which is exactly what we’re trying to avoid.”

“Yes, General. Gothic moves at your signal.”

She nodded and placed him on hold as she reviewed all the new data flowing in from her assets and allies across the Enclave. The enemy presence to be heaviest at Gree proper, with fleet after fleet rolling in stomp on the beleaguered Rebels. Even the First Order was there, with, if the reports were to be believed, their own dreadnought sized flagship.

Smaller but significant activity was being reported across [SIZE=11pt]space[/SIZE], on top of what being observed at Asation. It was obvious the Sith were hitting multiple fronts at once to overwhelm the RA with their superior numbers.

At[SIZE=11pt] that moment, she was suddenly struck similar the SE’s assault was to the Resurgent Empire’s [/SIZE]Serenno campaign, right down to the politicking and the Emperor’s arrival to a mudball of a planet dotted with ruins.

Hmm.

She hailed [SIZE=11pt]Valkren[/SIZE] to bring him into the conversation with the other commanders, now having a plan in mind for a familiar scenario.

“Commander Locke, Colonel Calderon,” she started, all [SIZE=11pt]business-like [/SIZE]again. “Our drone in system has picked up on a large congregation of enemy forces planetside, centered around a site of Gree ruins. Nightshade’s [SIZE=11pt]subutai[/SIZE] unit had deduced that the Sith may be trying to recover pieces of ancient Gree technology. Seeing as how the Carnifex’s personal fleet is there, it has to be something especially valuable to the Sith cause.”

“They must not be allowed to complete their objective at the ruins, whatever it may actually be. When I begin my assault against the Sith fleet there, you two will make a break for the ruins via stealth transports ([SIZE=11pt]intruz[/SIZE]) while [SIZE=11pt]blastboats[/SIZE], drones, and fighter escorts (RAF-01 X-wings, Fencers, [SIZE=11pt]and[/SIZE] a few Stealth Xs) will screen for you and create a distraction as you land.”

“For now, I need to stay aboard the Nightshade to coordinate the Spacy assault, but once that’s underway, I’ll head down myself. Nothing has been confirmed, but I just have a feeling that [SIZE=11pt]Carnifex [/SIZE]be down there. He’s never struck me as the type that would just sit back on his throne. We will exploit his hubris.”

The Echani was focused on the Emperor like a laser. Nothing else around her mattered, because all the Sith’s plots would fall apart with his defeat. However, to simply kill him wouldn’t do anything to the immortal lich, so she had a soul snare and an interdimensional prison all set.

“That’s all I have now. Now all of you begin your transfers to the assault flotillas so that we may begin.”

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

The transfer of the primary strike team to the assault flotilla was quick, so Jyoti didn’t have to wait long to give the deployment order.

Battlegroup Gothic jumped for Asation while Phoenix Squadron split up and withdrew from Gree space for an adjacent sector farther away from the SE borders. A precaution in case the Sith used any sort of hyperspace tracking to backtrace their routes to Asation.

Close to Asation within the same sector, the [SIZE=11pt]microjump[/SIZE] of Gothic was near instantaneous as they followed a plot with the help of the stealth drone deployed earlier, appearing in relatively low orbit, perpendicular in relation to the Sith armada below.

The battlegroup was built around a core of a quartet of Tenchu battlecruisers (Anduril, Glamdring, Orcrist, Hadhafang) each covered by their own escorts of Trieste, Nebels, Kobolds, and Kometa. In addition, there were several packs of Okami cruisers, maneuvering elements meant for rapid flanking against the normally lumbering Sith formations.

All in [SIZE=11pt]all[/SIZE] there were about seventy ships of various sizes, with several air groups worth of starfighters between them. In terms of meterage, however, the Sith may have beaten them with fewer but larger ships with probably a good deal more squadrons at their disposal.

In open space, she wouldn’t have much trouble tangoing the Sith fleet, but with so many of the ships close to the surface, engagement here was tricky. So close to the planet, a stray shot could hit the planet for unwanted collateral. Though she couldn’t let them just sit there unmolested and rip through the assault flotilla as it approached the ruins. So an alternate tactic had been devised, centering around some good old fashioned boarding tactics.

Right after reversion, the Spacy [SIZE=11pt]warships activated[/SIZE] their EWAR systems and began to spew steady volleys of of Dancer, and EWAR missiles by the hundreds, targeting all Sith warships. The onboard EWAR systems and missiles were meant to sew chaos, intending to hit them all with heavy electronic interference, and ghost signals to play hell on their sensors and comm systems.

By now, the annoying missile deactivator transmitters was an item known to be used by the Sith, so all missiles were operating using encrypted transmissions, and their programming had been slightly modified to reject any self-destruct/deactivation command from unauthenticated sources. A savvy slicer could still possibly crack the encryption and authentication protocols, but it would be doubtful that it could be performed in real time while the missile [SIZE=11pt]were[/SIZE] in flight. Real slicing of a military grade network was exceedingly difficult without physical access to a node.

After the first volley had been unleashed, spiral assault ships and boarding pods (fired from Angons) were deployed in en masse against the largest ships of the Sith armada, many destined for [SIZE=11pt]hull[/SIZE] of the Behemoth.

Inside the pods and the shuttles was a mix of Marinus battle droids, buzz droids, and Inago, all given the simple directive to rip through the comms/sensor arrays and shield generators of their target ships. In that [SIZE=11pt]way[/SIZE] the warships could remain intact, but become effectively neutered in their ability to fight.

As this was all occurring, the assault flotilla reverted on the far side of Asation, before gradually making their descent to the designated ruins, [SIZE=11pt]not[/SIZE] doubt about to encounter stiff resistance in the air and on the ground.

Finally, Nightshade made its appearance, but far away from the planet, in the middle of the [SIZE=11pt]helopshere[/SIZE] where it took advantage of the solar winds to mask radiation from from reversion.

Jyoti was back in her cabin in quiet meditation, pooling her power and deepening her connection to the Force.

In a series of unfortunate events on Mirial, Arisa had stumbled upon the true depths of her powers in one moment of agonizing horror, cementing her as one of the most powerful Jedi in a generation. As her avatar, Jyoti possessed that same power. Most of the time, she kept it suppressed out of fear of hurting people like her predecessor, but she needed it now. She needed it against Carnifex and his horde of Sith Lords and other horrors on the surface.

The air in her cabin her grew thick with [SIZE=11pt]energy,[/SIZE] and fractures began to bloom in the vision of her third eye.

To any Force Sensitive on board Nightshade, it might have felt like Jyoti’s cabin was lit up like a Lifeday tree, only growing brighter by the moment.

Soon, she would be ready.

((I don’t plan on doing any serious fleeting here - I’m here for duels - and it doesn’t look like anyone else on the opposing is really interested either, so I didn’t bother with any hard comps.))

Spoiler

[member="Alyisa Mithel"]
[member="Valkren Calderon"]
[member="Allyson Locke"]
[member="Varex"]
[member="Kahne Porte"]
[member="Yuroic Xeraic"]
[member="Avoim Oeymo"]
[member="Kamon Vondiranach"]

[member="Darth Carnifex"]
[member="Darth Prazutis"]
[member="Taeli Raaf"]
[member="Fiolette Yvarro"]
[member="Kaalia Pavance"]
[member="Darth Caecus"]
[member="Luca Thorne"]
[member="Preliat Mantis"]
[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Location: Atmopshere -> Surface
Objective: To stop the evil things
Enemies: [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Taeli Raaf"], [member="Fiolette Yvarro"], [member="Darth Caecus"], [member="Luca Thorne"], [member="Kaalia Pavanos"], [member="Preliat Mantis"], [member”=Darth Carnifex”]
Allies: [member="Varex"], [member="Avoim Oeymo"] | [member="Kamon Vondiranach"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Valkren Calderon"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

Location: Pantera-class Stealth Frigate Nightshade,

“I know.” Allyson nodded understanding that she couldn’t turn this in to her own personal revenge. There were other lives at stake beyond her own and she was in a position that people needed her to be level headed. She was more aware of that fact that she had ever been before. The look that Jyoti gave her reminded her that this wasn’t going to be a cake walk and she shook her head lightly. Part of her wanted to tell the Jedi to not look at her like that, but it couldn’t be helped.

Being dragged into a hug, Allyson wrapped her arms back tightly and held the other woman to make sure this memory would never be forgotten. Another nod as she agreed with dinner on the lake. “When this is over.” There was one more thing, Allyson watched as Jyoti removed a blade from her belt, tilting her head she had seen the woman care for the weapon, but she never really knew why. Upon the explanation, she blinked and watched as the blade grazed along the other woman’s hand. “Jyoti…” Allyson didn’t know what to say, but she nodded understanding what was being said. “Thank you.”

Nothing more needed to be said between them, it was an understanding that she didn’t have with anyone else before. Yurioic’s voice echoed over her comm and the moment was over as she sighed and watched Jyoti leave to do what she needed to do.

____________________________________________________________________________________​

Allyson followed and headed towards the hanger where the boys were waiting. Her face slightly flush she met up with Yuroic and Valkren. “Hey, everything ready? General Nooran is about ready to kick us out of here.” Seeing a face, she had never seen before, she offered her hand and smiled towards Kahne. “Lt. Commander Allyson Locke. Nice to meet you, happy to fight alongside you – friend.”

It didn’t take them long to finish doing what they were doing. The Kobold Blastboats with the starfighter escorts of X-Wings and Fencers, sensor jammers of all attack craft active. The moment they hit the atmosphere the Kobolds ejected the landing party in stealth drop pods. Along with the drop pods several ECM drones were also dropped, mimicking the signature and appearance of LAAT gunships and more Kobolds to help disguise the real ships and protect them from fire. The ride wasn’t the smoothest, Allyson held onto the seat she was in tightly, dropping in like this was never her choice of transport, but this was how they needed to get planetside.

They didn’t go unscathed. The drop pods she was in was grazed by defenses and the landing was a bit rough. Along with her in the pod were twelve Cottonmouth droids. She had been assigned them for their mission today and as she felt them through her connection of Mechu Deru, each of the droids moved on their own – synced with her mind. They dropped into the marshfields and began to slither through the muddy waters as she exited the drop pod.

Exhaling, she once more did a final check making sure nothing was damaged through the landing and she quickly radioed the rest of the boys. “Everyone all good? We need to head to the ruins, coordinates will be arriving via your HUDs now. Valkren, lead the way.” Seeing the man she gave him a peace sign and a smile. As much responsibility that was thrown at her, Allyson did her best to stay upbeat.
Moving behind Yuroic, she patted the guy on the back. “Don’t fall behind.” Flashing him a smile she moved ahead with the Rangers and her cottonmouths that rumbled underneath the surface of the planet. Along with the machines moving with her, she mentally picked up with the Force the other bits of technology that scattered the land. Gree Technology. “What are they up to? Whatever it is, lets get through whatever defenses and stop em. It can’t be anything good.”

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