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

[Tehkyram]

Objective: Jedi Hunt
Allies: Sith Imperial Legion
Enemies: Rebel Soldiers // [member="Cenric Marus"]

There was something deeply satisfying and relieving about watching the Jedi's body go flying through the walls of the ship, his flesh being turned into a ballistic projectile. The internal systems damage had to be quite severe, both to the Jedi and the ship. He could see that through the holes he produced, the Jedi had landed in the hangar opposite the one he arrived in. More importantly, Tehkyram could smell his fear, his pain, his exhaustion. His prey was weak, all he needed to do was finish him off.

Unfortunately, by relieving his anger, it became impossible for Tehkyram to ignore his wound. The moment he took his first step forward towards the first hole he produced, he felt his entire leg light up in pain, and almost doubled over and collapsed when it nearly gave out. The acolyte took a moment to breathe deeply, focus on his pain, and right himself. Then, with great caution and precision, he took a single limp step forward. As painful as it was, he managed to keep his leg from giving out again. It took a great deal of pressure from the force, like he had to use it to grip and lift the bad leg. But he was still mobile. Slowly and agonizingly, he limped over and through the first hole in the walls. The Jedi would not escape. He would not let that happen.

 

[Avoim Oeymo]

Location: Asation
Enemies: The Sith Empire and their Allies
Allies: The Rebel Alliance and Their Allies, [member="Varex"]
Objective: Initial: Distract Enemy ships for allied dropships to launch and land; Primary: Land forces for ground combat.​

Avoim entered the small makeshift room that held the holotable that declared the room the command center. On the holotable was a series of small repeating graphics showing the battle unfolding, various points of contact between the Alliance and the Empire, it was distressing. It was also difficult to tell who was winning the battle, by now all the troops that made it planetside were ready to go. Looking around the Jedi Master nodded his head at the leaders of the 212th, it was time. “Alright, we’re going to push out, we’ll leave a force here to do defense and be a QRF.”

With that Avoim turned and left the room, his soldiers quickly jumping to work as they selected the parts of the team that would stay behind and go, and which team would be a Quick Reaction Force. Walking up to one of the LAAT gunship transports, Avoim boarded the vessel as the rest of the soldiers in armor fashioned after old Clone Wars era armor boarded as well. Hitting the back of the cockpit hard with his hand the LAAT slowly rose up on Repulsorlift engines before scaling the skies, several other LAAT’s following behind it.

“We are going to go get some Sith scum for ourselves, we can’t let our allies have all the fun now can we boys?” Letting a chuckle out as the rest of his men snapped off as best a salute they could from their standing positions in the LAAT and all shouting “Yes Sir”. Their blasters were ready and his Lightsaber was in his hand, it was time for the battle to be met. It did not take long to find a pocket of fighting, with no winner quite seen but the troop definitions clearly showing a side about to make that push and it was time to change that.

The LAAT soon lowered to a safe distance from the ground and the Jedi Master leapt out soon followed by his troops as his lightsaber ignited with a snap-hiss. Throwing himself into the fray he hoped that this battle would soon attract attention from other larger groups of the Empire so that he could drag another major front in this battle into their minds, stretching them even further. There were soon many more blue and red energy bolts striking the enemy around him, his green blade weaving an emerald wall of death as well as defense as he began to hack through the Sith Troops, redirecting energy blasts to those that it needed to find itself to.

(This is an open invite to any Sith or Lightsaber wielder associating with the Sith to attack, just make sure you do something to really catch my eye when you do it, like mention me in the post with another tag, so I know which post(s) to look for please.)

 

[Warchief Waddles]

Location: Gree Enclave, Shipyards
With: [member="Romi Jade"]
Enemies: [member="Dante Sotari"], [member="Jairus Starvald"]
Equipment: See Sig

---

---

Nearly simultaneous with the legionnaire falling the catwalk rippled beneath Aten. Is this thing alive? Pushing himself to his feet, chest aching from the two shots that had landed mere moments before Aten rubbed at his chest looking to the downed women. “Listen I don-“ Once more the jedi was interrupted, not by the marksman making another attempt on his life but by the shipyards. The mechanical beast seemed to roar, the sound of metal shifting, grinding against itself and the catwalk that was swaying began to turn completely the supports on the left half vanishing, retreating into the ceiling. What type of place is this?!

The platform fell from beneath Aten’s feet the left half dropping. Right hand reaching out Aten grasped the edge of the catwalk that still hung by supports but the force only knew how long. Left hand reaching out Aten sent his will to coalesce around the Legionnaire grasping her and holding her against the catwalk just in case she wasn’t able to get a hold. Aten noted the irony is his disposition towards the soldier now. Something as simple as knowing his master hadn’t died at her hands had been enough to set the Jedi back on his proper path, aided by the resonating of his saber through the force. Aten’s own right hand was cybernetic allowing the limb to support his entire body, the servos within whirring, compensating for the stress it was put under.

Hanging from the railing Aten would look in the soldiers’ direction. “I’d love it if you not shoot me again. We have a far bigger issue if you didn’t realize.” Looking up Aten felt what remained hanging of the catwalk shudder. “Please tell me that armor of yours has another of those grappling lines?” Aten asked his skin paling slightly. Lowering themselves from the ceiling a set of limbs resembling tentacles, thrumming with the same vibrant light of the facility. One whipped around catching the Jedi in the side, not penetrating the ultrachrome weave but the force channeling through causing a sharp intake of air.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

ALLIES: [member="Belphaegor"] | [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Anden Fancelo"]
ENEMIES: [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] (Disengaging) | [member="Cedric Grayson"]
OBJECTIVE: Find somewhere to lay down and pass out for the next 72 hours.
GEAR: Suit | Saber

The wave of flame, inhaling oxygen as it exhaled from Elpsis behind Matsu, pulled like hungry gravity. That was the nasty thing about fire - it didn’t just burn, it ate. Everything. Weakened as she was, there could be no fight between her and the wave. Like the sea. They called her that, Atrisians. Spider was the thing most would whisper or curse, but her people - for as little as she identified - knew the words. Maattssuuu...goddess of the sea in their tongue. A dangerous gravity itself, pulling the unaware to its depths. Dark. Unknowable.

It’s all the same, isn’t it?
Fire pulling, water pulling.
All of us back to the center.

And like a wave it pushed her too, spitting her violently back to shore. The blast pushed hard, slamming her up against the wall at the end of the hallway she’d been stumbling through with a crunch that indicated at least a few bones were broken. The fire came seconds after, her one good phrik hand reaching up to shield her face as it flowed over her. Head and neck mostly protected, it was the rest of her that screamed for mercy as fire burned away expensive fabrics and light armors to eat at the skin beneath. Crunched in to a ball as she was, and thrown as she was, there was at least distance enough to avoid being too close to the epicenter of Elpsis’ wall. But not even calling on the Force could protect her from the agony of exposed side burning, parts of her leg sizzling disgustingly.

By the time it burned out, she had collapsed on the floor to suffocate the flames.
She could see Elpsis on the other side of a hole in the floor, collapsed as well.
And she could feel she was alive.

Why do we keep doing this?

Siobhan had once been an unknown, a nameless and faceless thing that stood in the way. Eventually she’d gained a name. Eventually she’d been sketched in by the details, given form by the vagaries of a life so different from Matsu’s. And then...after that...a long time, it seemed it wasn’t so different. Families. Friends. Women that treated the world differently, surely - but just parallel enough for it to sicken the rot that had opened up the first time Matsu had seen her on Dromund Kaas. Enemies until the end of time, fighting for more than just themselves. Now she knew too much.

She thought of Six-O, forbidden fruit picked anyway. Sons both real and adopted - Onley, Belphaegor, Lok. Friends and family - Irajah, Jacob, Imogen, that incessant ships-in-the-night passing of Ophidia. The Last Fathers, those Heralds that supported her. And...Jared. Even no longer walking among them, he was there.

She’d once been told having people close to her was a weakness, that when they were threatened it would make her weak.

But that’s why we keep doing this, she thought, looking at the motionless woman in armor.
It’s not just us. And that gives us reason.

She was still laying on her side when Belphaegor found her, her arm still frozen from excessive heat.

“Here,” she croaked out, reaching for him and gathering her legs underneath her as he helped pull her up. Motion shifted something inside her, and a thick gout of clear fluid rushed from her mouth as something cybernetic in her failed. Burnt, bruised, a gaping hole in her right cheek, down a lung, and broken all over, she leaned on Belphaegor for a minute. His hand remained her of a gnarled tree, distress whining in the back of her head. “We don’t have much time.”

Hirou's voice came through her comms. Maybe, if she hadn't been so exhausted, she might have sensed the lie. But in that moment, as weary as she was, even she did not detect their plan. The comms pinged, information that she couldn't fully comprehend at the moment zooming across the small panel before she closed its dizzying scroll. "Got it. Perfect work Hirou. We'll see you back at the transports."

She looked back at Elpsis one more time. Someone else might have tried to take the opportunity but…
No. Not like this.
Were it someone less monumental, she would finish it, tie up loose ends.
But there was only ever one way this would go.
I’ll see you again girl. On our feet, as it should be.

By the time Matsu made it back to the hangar with Belphaegor, she was standing up as best she could. Blood-spattered and heaving disgusting half-breaths, but still the Witch. She would hear the story of what had happened in this room - blackened, dead already being stacked, both sides watching the other warily - but first… “We need to tend to your hand. Hirou will be back any moment and we can get you to a medbay.” The sentence came out as if from underwater, her false lung ejecting cooling fluid in to her diaphragm.

Four minutes.

 

[Atlas Kane]

​

Inside the Hangar
Serving the Sith Empire with [member=Darth Arabris], [member=Amun], [member=Ras Val'kor], [member=Garen Kalkat], [member=Vanessa Vantai], and [member=Nixia Amabilia]
To eliminate the Rebel Alliance, [member=Judas Foster], [member=Julian Valentine], [member=A'lah The Green One], and to capture [member=The Slave]


After the invisible power of the Force propelled his target into the upper part of the ship, staining his silver hair crimson, Atlas quickly took a step forward. Invisible strands of energy began coalescing around his hands. An ancient energy began crackling over the reinforced gauntlets of the Sith, tiny strands of lightning jumped from fingertip to fingertip. He intended to release a prolonged torrent of the horrible technique into the Slave, aiming to subdue the man with the extreme pain caused by the experience of dark side manifested lightning coursing through his body, a pain few experienced and even fewer lived to tell of. A smile formed on his lips, concealed by a brazen mask. Just as the man before him gathered himself, Atlas prepared to release the onslaught of power, but his attention was caught by the landing of a gunship visible through the viewport. Reinforcements.

Yet just as the lightning was about to manifest in full, his attention turned back to his opponent, he was interrupted by a palm on his chest and an incredible amount of force hurling him backwards. The ship's doors barely managed to open in time for Atlas to fly through them, propelled by the Slave's powerful attack. The shock to his system was unexpected. Some of the kinetic force had been absorbed by the armour the Sith wore, but much of it connected centre-mass. Atlas could feel his own heart's rhythm flutter as some of his ribs rested cracked within his ribs, saved from breaking only by the Epicanthix' naturally stronger bones. A mouthful of blood had escaped onto the inside of his mask as he flew through the air for several metres.

Eventually, he hit the ground, shoulders first he skipped once, turning around from the force of the impact so that he faced downwards instead of up. With his feet close to the ground he managed to catch himself the next time he met the steel floor, sliding several more metres backwards as the screeching of metal on metal filled the hangar until he hit a large stack of crates that stopped him in his tracks, collapsing all over him. The force of tens of crates falling onto him brought him to his knees and then flattened the struggling former Jedi entirely, burying him in metal boxes. Another mouthful of blood escaped running down his face, partly gathering in a pool in the mask's curve. As he lay still struggling for air all he could perceive was pain and his fleeting grasp on life. The agony of internal trauma and a failing heart overtook his mind, panic, actual panic, dominating his thoughts. He was going to die. There was too much pain, all he could see was the reflection of his orange-red eyes as the chains of death slowly drowned him in the lake of the afterlife.

"No." He mouthed quietly, spitting blood as he did. "My chains are broken." He groaned the line of the Sith Code through gritted teeth.

Closing his eyes he turned inward, past pain and terror. A Jedi would die from a wound such as this. Jedi were slaves to fear, unable to control their emotions as they attempted to wish them away by putting their faith in the "Will" of the Force. That was what made them weak, what made the Sith superior. Sith controlled emotion, used it to further their cause, bent the Force to their Will. A Jedi's death was unbecoming of the Sith. He would struggle and break the hold the Jedi still had on him. He would bend the Force's Will to his own, not succumb to the fate it assigned him.

The pain and terror he felt were no longer blinding him, they were turned to fuel. Emotion ran wild as he let the Dark Side flow through his being, used its energy to make the Force do his bidding. With its unnatural aid, he sought to bring his heart back into a normal rhythm, to make his organs and limbs to perform their duties as he saw fit. Not even his own body would keep him from achieving that which his will and ambition desired.

His heart began beating normally again, albeit at an elevated rate. The pain turned from crippling distraction to a resource he could draw upon empowering the hatred fueling his will. Slowly, but surely he began moving his arm towards his neck in order to undo the clasp holding his robes together. Next, he slowly and quietly crawled backwards, disturbing the crates as little as possible. Holding the robes in place as he attempted to sneak out of the mountain of crates without disturbing its slumber despite the simple act of moving being a hellish endeavour. Finally, he began using the energies of the Force to diminish his own presence within it, attempting to blend it into the wider and far more powerful storm of emotions that rampaged throughout the ship in an effort to make his opponent believe he had lost consciousness or perished. The amount of pain and fear radiating from him just moments prior would hopefully do the trick.

Quietly and carefully he forced his way out of the hill of crates, emerging on the opposite side from where the ship stood, hidden behind them from direct view of the ship's door without his familiar robes.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Gear: Phrik armour, lightsabre (both in sig), rebreather, boltgun, Reaper Plasma Shotgun, sidearm.
Objective: Go to a medbay. Find a new arm.
Location: Some hallway behind the hangar.
Enemies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] (Duel concluded). Elsewhere: [member="Tabigarashu Madara"]. [member="Belphaegor"], [member="Lok Munin"], [member="Anden Fancelo"]
Allies elsewhere: [member="Cedric Grayson"]


The fight had not been kind to the hangar. The scent of death was strong. Indeed the air was rank with it. The walls told a tale of destruction, courtesy of the fiery cyclone of death and the fierce fighting that had taken place between Sith and Rebel troopers. The corpses that littered the floor told a similar tale.


Exhausted, Elpsis had collapsed to the ground. Out of the horde of rebels, one hastened towards the prone, armoured form of the empath. Her name was Natalie. Former member of the Ession Revival Front. She knew Incendia as well - and the Haruspex she had done battle against.


Memories reared their ugly head as she beheld the retreating Sith Lady. Memories of the Dark Woman invading her mind and turning her into a meatpuppet. The urge to riddle her with blaster bolts was strong, orders to stand down and let the Sith pull out be damned. Bloody Jedi. But a different urge won out. The girl who had saved her life needed her.


"Incendia," she called out. "Oh, for feth's sake, woman. Can you hear me?" Pulling off the girl's helmet, she checked her pulse and found that the girl was still breathing. Her milky-white eyes locked with Natalie's brown ones. Somehow, they seemed even more vacant than usual.

"Natalie," Elpsis coughed, spitting out blood.

"Can you walk?" Little did Natalie know that the empath could not hear her, due to having been temporarily deafened by the sorcerous blast. There was no response. Those blank eyes showed no comprehension. "Feth, c'mon on, soldier." Though Elpsis could not hear the words or perceive the movement of Natalie's lips, she seemed to understand when the Essionian took ahold of her. "We'll kill the witch one day. We'll kill the lot of them."


Elpsis made no response. However, while she did not hear Natalie speak, she felt her feelings and she agreed. Her ethereal eyes fell upon the retreating form of Matsu and her acolyte. When we meet again I will take both your lungs and more. Siobhan had wanted her to be strong and fierce - and so she would. She had been the good fight her mother was no longer capable of fighting. The one her mother might have given up on. She was the flaming Sword of Firemane now. You always scorned and belittled me, mother. Now you'll see what I can do. She tore her gaze away from the Sith. With Natalie's help, she staggered down a corridor towards the Acerbitas' medbay. Every step she took was arduous and her body cried in protest after all the punishment she had put it through, but she persevered. Kerrigans did not show weakness. That was what mother had drilled into her skull, at any rate. She was no longer in a state to be an active participant in this battle, regardless of how it went.

 

[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"]
Engaging: Allyson Locke & Yuroic Xeraic
Gear:

• Below Signature
• Shield Talisman
• Pins of Protection

Shrapnel and shot ricocheted off of highly durable plastoid and durasteel armor, peppering the ancient weathered stone with incalculable craters and torn canyons around the Dark Lord's feet. Though the kinetic impact would have sent any other man down to their knees in agony, the Emperor seemed utterly unphased by the attack. In his efforts to secure himself ever-lasting life in the galaxy, he had traded away many things in his diabolical experiments of spirit and body.

Including the ability to physically feel, something that came naturally to every living creature.

He was aware that he was struck, but he could not feel it.

Instead, he flourished his lightsaber and attempted to sheer off the front of Allyson's shotgun with movements quicker than any mortal eye could perceive, his gargantuan figure belying just how quick he could be when the situation demanded. Cold eyes stared out from behind reinforced glasteel, his voice modulated through his helmet with a gruff mechanical undertone as he addressed the young Jedi; "Allyson Locke, I had wondered when you and I would next meet. A shame you could not bring your paramour with you, I would share with her the secrets of agony as I shared with you so long ago." He raised his lightsaber menacingly, holding it parallel to his body as he took one step towards Allyson.

Thunk.

Internal sensors registered that a small projectile object had embedded itself in the rear laminate armor plating, prompting the Dark Lord to reach out through the Force to look behind him without actually turning to see. "And who is this? More lambs to the slaughter?" Now the Emperor reached out to grasp the arrowhead, rather than the shaft, and yank it out from where it stuck out of his back. He then crushed the durasteel head and flung the remnants off into the swamp.

"You have both made a grave error."

The Dark Side churned and seethed around Carnifex, culminating in the rapid coalescing of tangible hate in the form of a shimmering sphere. The sphere itself was fed from the Emperor's own boundless reservoirs of hate and anger, and could be summoned at will by drawing the energies out from his animus and willing them to take shape around his body. It was then flung at high velocity towards the cloaked Bowman, while the Emperor physically advanced on Allyson with the intent to cut her to ribbons with his lightsaber, which moved in hard and fast to press the offensive and keep Allyson on the defensive.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Fighting for all his salt, witnessing the beginning of the end...

Allies: [member="Judas Foster"] │ [member="Julian Valentine"] │ @Faye │ @A'lah The Green One
Foes: [member="Ras Val'kor"] │ [member="Atlas Kane"] │ [member="Darth Arabris"] │ @Amun │ [member="Nixia Amabilia"] │ [member="Garen Kalkat"] │ [member="Adrian Vandiir"] │ [member="Vanessa Vantai"]

[video][/video]​

[video]

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

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[/video]

​

Emotionally, The Slave felt pain. The soft churns of sadness spun a sickening sensation in his stomach, riddled anger and sorrow through much of its manifestation. A knot unlike he’d felt in years, since the days of his childhood, or the betrayal he enacted on his love; all fell equally to where he stood now, though what differed was the intent to kill. Never before had he the capacity, the strength to back up his emotions in such a way, only blindly fall to the wayside in aggrandized attempts to show force; to prove himself not weak.

The days of pretending were long over.

And despite all the sadness he felt, his body moved easier than it ever had, a machine oiled through malignant energy and one with nothing but the curse of the betrayed on its breath. Blackened eyes, a roaring malevolence that surrounded him like the eye of a storm; the ever encroaching realization mortality looked on those near with hungry eyes. The Slave was The Hierophant of the Void; and he would find no equal.

Every step from the ship’s bay offered the soft click of his bootheel as the air around him grew colder by the second. He could feel the group that had appeared, though the sensation of the Sith he was truly after seemed to fade in the moment; though through emotion alone he did not trust a death until he had torn asunder the corpse of those who had looked to tear him down. The incarnation of evil bore down on these new entities through eyes molten with gold; an intensity in them that withheld nothing.

The Slave roared to life, exerting himself in his entirety once more as he threw his hand in motion with the ship he had just stepped off; metal groaning in the darkness for a desperate of forgiveness from the strain it was now put under. Pained cries of durasteel offered no solace as the ship broke off its landing gear, teetering on a full roll over as it was suddenly sent reeling towards the boarding vessel that now had worked its way onto his ship; its movements the same as a locomotive without brakes, hell bent on derailing.

As it began to slide, The Slave offered only one more cry; pained exasperation of man sundered in both heart and mind;

“Atlas!”

And then the music began to play, pulling him down from his emotions, if only slightly. Its soft methodical tones filling his ears as blood trailed over his brow before Cybele’s voice came over the intercom, soft and littered with sadness...

---

With the ambush of additional forces, even the might of The Technicolor Beat began to wain as the other main engine was blown asunder; the armor of the ship the only remaining line of defense. Many of the gun stations had fallen, broken from the onslaught the ship took in all aspects of the battle, forcing her to remain quiet amongst the fighting. She was now an observer, firing the last of its volley against the fleet that road towards her before they too fell out of range.

Cybele offered a quiet sigh through her cybernetic networks. She watched the fight take place in her many holds, saw the carnage that was taking place, and if it weren’t for her cold CPU heart, he could almost feel the emotion on John’s voice at the betrayal he now faced. It pained her, as odd as it sounded, for if nothing else; she loved the captain.

Both of the Twins had fired when able, laying serious blows into any ship not prepared, though even they began to suffer the encirclement pain. Without double front shielding being effective, they’d been pincered to as close to the beat as possible, one severely damaged while under the assault of the newest fleet. Its EWAR was still viable, though the ship as a whole would not be able to make it out of the system from this point forward.

Even inside, the squad that surged for her AI core was nothing short of breaching it, and in a matter of minutes she predicted the loss of her sentience. It frightened her, if only slightly, and no amount of resource navigation would allow her life to continue; not anymore. Between the riot, the assault, and the unbelievable ambush she was under; what came now was the horrid aftermath of a plan that was worked through.

In the back of her processing, she had finally come up with a song however; the last one she would ever be given the grace of offering her love. She listened to it silently at first, before ensuring the ship as a whole would enjoy what was to come;

And so it began. The beginning of the end.

The music filled the hallways, and although many could not hear it over the cries and shouts of a riot, and even more couldn’t feel its love over the fire of battle, to her it meant the world. To John, she hoped it mean a lasting memory.

Her voice echoed through the hanger her master was in, through it she almost choked on binary tears.

“Looks like this is it, John… The last dance…”

 

[Cenric Marus]

Exact Location: RAS Defiance - Acerbitas Support Ship
Enemies: [member="Tehkyram"]
Allies: Rebel Alliance

Cenric struggled to breath.

His chest rose and fell, but it was more shallow than usual. He could feel a pressure on his lungs, and as he moved slightly a spike of pain shot through his chest. His rib had been broken, and the lacerations on his back stung with a deep sort of agony that he couldn't quite describe. The Padawan slammed his eyes shut, trying his hardest not to let tears fall as his wounds took their toll. Fingers tightened around the hilt of his lightsaber, and he shifted slightly.

The crates beneath him moved, though didn't fall away. His free hand wrapped around the edge of one of the durasteel boxes, pulling himself up slowly and painstakingly. His eyes opened as he came to his feet, hand slowly rubbing over them to clear away the spots of water that had formed. You either keep fighting or you die.

He thought quietly to himself.

And if you die you don't get to... His fingers tightened again around the lightsaber as he thought about her, lips thinning.

The stomping of the Sith could be heard before the alien came into sight, his bulk slicing through the holes in the hull that Cenric had left behind. The Padawan felt his own muscles tighten, lips thinning as he shifted and gently flicked the switch on his lightsaber. The blade ignited with a loud snap-hiss, and Cenric took waiting for his opponent.

 

[Delsin Kessler]

Objective:
Help the civilian corvettes to escape into hyperspace
Attack the leading ship of the blockade Ferrata Class Corpss Assault Carrier
Allies: Rebel Alliance [member="Wyatt Morga"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]
Enemies: Sith Empire ([member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="Thyne"] [member="Kor Vexen"] )
Equipment: In signature (Lights off missiles)
Forces:
Thunderbird Starfighters (x8)

The corvettes started to reach height, reaching the clouds, with Solon guiding the thunder squad around them. If luck was with him, the booma mines would do some work with their long range cannons "Launch the rest of the booma missiles against their shields and ships. Then defend the civilian corvette" Inside the corvettes where a lot of the Rebels soldiers and some civilians, all of them scared. They escaped from being overrun by that army, but Solon knew that the orbit wouldn´t receive them with open arms. The missiles fly towards the enemy and if they had lucky the ones who managed to pass through would explode mid-air above them, with booma pearls would rain on their machines. They would capture the city but only with the troops, having to leave their tanks behind.

There was a blockade, with the same carrier where the dropships came from. It was followed by cruisers "Corvettes, before getting into orbit, all the power into the shields and the engine. We are going to make a path for you" his ship was the only one with Booma missiles, while the thunderbirds didn´t. Solon would need to shut down the engine, and the orbit would do the rest "You guys killed and skirmish the advance of at least hundreds of Sith. Will it be posible for you to aid me in this suicide mission?" "We will follow you to the gates of hell!" "Your orders" "I will invite the drinks after this!" he was proud. He was part of something large "Push through their starfighters and fire everything you got against the engine to that cruiser to weaken that shield. We just need to get one booma missile to land"

He had test the advantage and effect of using the booma on small droids and some big systems. Never into a big cruiser like he was about to face. Maybe frying its engine would start a chain explosion or maybe half the ship would shutdown "What i think won´t matter if i can´t land a single missile..."

 

[LT-137]

Gree // Planetary Surface // Sith-Imperial Beachhead.

Allies: The Sith Empire; [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"], [member="Thyne"], [member="Kor Vexen"],
Enemies: The Rebel Alliance; [member="Solonariwan Tofusin"] [Previously Engaged.] [member="Wyatt Morga"]
The Solvognen - Thyrsian Corvette.
Phaethon - Class Assault Transports, with Thyrsian Sun Guards.

​

After having given his introduction, and received one in return, Khonsu turned his gilded helmet to meet to the gaze of the towering Sith. As their eyes connected behind the false-firelight of their respective visors, the Thyrsian felt a prideful smirk tug at the edges of his mouth. She had heard of his endeavours and had taken the time to review his service record; at least the declassified portions that were supplied to the Sith-Imperial Legions. He was flattered, and almost fell victim to his hubris. Almost.

It was when the Lady Zambrano asked to pass on her gratitude to his superior, for safeguarding the assault forces as they made planetfall, that the notion of admiration quickly soured upon his tongue. Khonsu knew that he was duty-bound to follow-through with her request, but it was the simple fact that he would be bestowing laurels on the Unworthy Praetor that caused a flicker of disgust to race through his mind. He wanted to ram his pike through the man’s heart rather than offer him praise.

The Thyrsian nodded wordlessly in reply, before turning his shrouded eyes towards the armoured figure standing by her side. There was something off about this person that Khonsu couldn’t place, and as his thoughts of revulsion were replaced by his inquisitive nature; the man’s mind swam with a ceaseless stream of questions. Even though this pseudo-soldier was introduced as an attaché, the way that the woman gripped the armoured shoulder spoke differently.

Perhaps he, or it, was her plaything?

He couldn’t tell, and the man didn’t really wish to find out. The decks of the Solvognen were already filled with scandalous rumours regarding various Sith Lord’s and their insatiable appetites for gluttonous pleasure or pain. Khonsu didn’t really need the seed of truth sprouting within his imagination. Blinking aside the fledgling notion, the Sun Guard nodded in acknowledgement of the figure’s inquiry. He had taken to the sands of the arena situated within the heart of the Sith-Imperial capital and ended up losing to a Mandalorian warrior in the second bracket. The shame of loss still burned bright, even after so much had transpired between then and now.

It was then that the towering Juggernaut had redirected the flow of conversation; returning their topic to the upcoming siege and assault of the planet’s capital. The situation report was remarkably brief, but entirely informative - filling in the gaps where suspicions and confirmations were lacking. Scouts sallied forth from their partially fortified encampment to reconnoitre the enemy’s line, but have yet to make contact. His first thought was that they had possibly not encountered the Alliance forces, but the second was far more grim and far more likely to be true.

“My assault craft can provide air cover until the shield is deployed,” Khonsu mentioned, whilst his eyes turned towards his distant transports, and the gilded warriors slipping forth from their holds. “It’ll give your forces some breathing room, whilst they set the generator up and install any anti-air batteries you have on hand.”

“However, with that being said,” The Twisuns Legate continued, sweeping his crested helm back towards the Sith Titan and her attaché. “If your Scouts haven’t reported back by now, it might be a good idea to proceed with the assault. They’re likely dead, captured, or incompetent. I pray it’s the former, rather than the latter two.”

When those words left his lips, the Thyrsian turned his visor towards the crest of the slope to regard the massive artillery pieces taking up position. Of the two variants that he could discernibly recognize, only one was pointed towards the city. That was curious. Perhaps they believed that it would be overkill to utilize both permutations of artillery emplacements, and decided that half of their force of arms towards the skies. It would soften whatever resistance these so-called Rebels could offer, and assist the Armada in turning their ragtag fleet into orbiting segments of molten slag.

At least, that’s what Khonsu assumed, as that’s exactly what he would’ve done if he was in command. All that stand before the might of an Empire deserved no quarter and must be thoroughly crushed in order to secure a victory. Thus, they would need to take the city quickly and slaughter all that stood to deny them the victory they’ve earned, and paid for with the lives of the fallen.

“If that’s your desir-"

Before he could finish his proclamation, the man’s words were drowned out by the rising crescendo of warning klaxons. It seemed that the enemy forces had sought to flee the city in massive transports, whose sensorial outline matched that of a Corvette. That meant hundreds, if not thousands of rebels could be aboard; fleeing the city and leaving those that they sought to protect to die. Such cowardice caused his blood to boil. If they knew that this fight was hopeless, and they were fated to perish at the edge of the Sith Empire’s sword - then why bother taking up arms in the first place? Why pursue such a fruitless endeavour if you merely flee at the first sign of martial might? It grated his nerves raw and caused him to tightly clench his teeth.

“Cowards,” Khonsu barked through thinly pressed lips. As his macrobinoculars retracted, and his vision returned to normal, the Sun Guard caught sight of exotic munitions detonating on the outskirts of the city. Doubtlessly, they were flowers of fire that spelled the doom of some Sith-Imperial scouts - or they were merely warning shots meant to dissuade their inevitable approach towards the city. It wasn’t clear, and at the moment he couldn’t care. There were more pressing concerns that took hold of his thoughts; forcing his body to ache with anticipation and thirst for the thrill of combat.

“The Armada will take care of these fleeing vessels, but we need to take the city now. If those Corvette’s are shot down before they leave the planet’s gravity well, the rain won’t be the only thing crashing down on us this day.”

“We’ll need shelter before that eventuality comes to pass.”​

 

[Darth Caecus]

Location: Satikan, Capital of Asation
Objective: NO LONGER DRAW ATTENTION
Enemies: Basically everyone, good job. Open to Interaction

As Luca worked, Kith hid the bodies. If there was no trace that they had been here (and three people missing in a scene of panic would hardly be noticed if there weren't dead bodies to be found), then it could take hours for law enforcement here to figure out what had happened. That the alarms were false. Keep them focused here and not going out to the site of the ritual hundreds of kilometers away.

They had done what the Sith had asked of them. There was no denying that. [member="Darth Saarai"] had asked for them to keep the locals distracted and busy, and this? This would absolutely do that.

Had he known, the intentions? He must have. There was no way that it would have been hidden from him. Perhaps he had protested. Perhaps he had seen the use. Tai Fa was not rabid in his following of the darkside but he was loyal to the Empire and saw that sometimes the bleak necessity was not merely bloodshed but wholesale slaughter. Kith could picture the moment where he offered a view on restraint. Perhaps it was even why Kith and Luca had been sent here to do this. The slowly growing sensation in the Force? The singing tension that vibrated through everything? Kith knew that there was no way a roused populace from Satikan could have truly interfered with what was happening out there. She could imagine, could believe, that this feint had been to potentially preserve lives. Oh, not because Tai Fa cared all that much about that in particular.

But because he was disgusted by needless waste.

This action had been ordered, she understood, not for the preservation of lives, but for the preservation of assets. To keep the buzzing flies off of the ritual yes, but they would have been no more than a mere annoyance.

They had done their job. But now they took it a step further, and that step would be where the Empire would look at them and brand them traitor.

If desertion hadn't been enough. This would drive that nail deeply.

Now they did not merely preserve assets.

Now they worked to deny the Empire of them.

Stepping outside of the mission parameters because..... why?

Because it was the right thing to do.

Kith didn't know what to do with that. How to feel about it. Now wasn't the time or place for serious introspection. To really study what the hard imprint of the word Sith into her psyche meant to her and how she would reconcile it moving forward. Could a clone fight back against the flash programming? Could she find something else to call herself?

She looked at Luca as he finished, standing up and moving toward her.

Maybe with him, she could.

"Let's go," she said with a nod, her hand finding his and squeezing. Only their eyes were visible above the breathing masks, but it was enough. Enough to say a million things more than those two words.

The pair headed down the hallway, moving swiftly. But every time Kith tried to reach out into the Force to sense people nearby, all she felt was the increasing weight of the ritual. It was flooding the Force, making it feel heavy and thick. It was suffocating, and she had to keep drawing back the distance she could scan in, retreating within the Force away from the taut lines growing closer and closer together.

The tension was becoming unbearable, her senses through the Force shrunken and muted as she withdrew further and further. She could have reaching into it, dipping her hands into it, covering them with oily pitch and reveling in the power that was being wrought. It was right there, the sensation. The temptation. Except....

Kith wasn't tempted in the least.

From the moment she'd awakened in the cloning creche, she had been disinterested in power for power's sake. And in that time, she had found something better.

And then the tension froze- hanging for an infinite moment through the Force. Kith paused, almost holding her breath right at a junction coming up on their exit. Luca got a step or two ahead before-

The sensation shattered.

Kith stumbled, the maelstrom of the ritual pulsing out through the Force. She could feel it, the release of those energies, roiling rampant through it all before it all coalesced into the purest sense of malice the clone had ever encountered. She tripped, knees cracking the tile floor hard and drawing a hiss of pain as she struggled to rise again. With a hard shove she locked her Force Senses down, blocking out the sensation as best as she could.

"They did it," she gasped to Luca. "It's done."

 

[Dante Sotari]

Gree Enclave
Honestly Fething Creepy Shipyard
Allies: TSE, [member="Jairus Starvald"]
Enemies: THE HONESTLY FETHING CREEPY SHIPYARD, TRA, [member="Romi Jade"] [member="Aten Ramses"]
Equipment: Legion Armor | Service Sidearm Pistol 'Minos' | Interchangeable Service Rifle, Rifle mode | Grenades- 2 Anti Blaster Smoke - 2 CryoBan - 1 Adhesive - 1 Flashbang | Explosives and timed detonators |

The static from the broken comm hiss in her ear, sharp and grating. It seemed to reverberate through the helmet, the vibrations bordering on painful and more than a little bit distracting as Dante rolled to start to get her feet back under her.

About here was when the situation got entirely confusing. Being 'attacked' by the station was bad enough. But the completely one-eighty by the Jedi would have been enough to make anyone dizzy. Dante couldn't know his motivations- the why of his sudden change of heart. She had put the woman she'd shot out of her mind entirely after the body had fallen. There was no reason to do anything else in truth. Either she had died or she had survived. She'd been a little preoccupied with the Jedi trying to end her to worry about it over much.

So to go from where they had been a moment ago to this?

The catwalk turned, rippling and suddenly dropping. Her hand snaked out, gauntlet closing around the railing post right before she would have slid off into a ten story drop. The jolt as she was brought up short sent pain shooting through her neck and head, leaving her dizzy. Must have hit harder than she thought. The sound of the static seemed to grow louder and she felt a weird pressure against her- okay not so weird, probably the force but the why was weird.

Her other hand grappled, thumb freeing the maglock at the base of the helmet- it was difficult because there was no way in hell she was dropping the Minos. Rather than pull it off and hold onto it, she pushed it off, letting it fall, the sound of the painful static dropping along with it. With the damage done it wouldn't have been much help anyway, and with the noise gone she could try to think clearly again.

Nope, still no idea why he'd gone from 'I'll KILL YOU!' to 'let me lend a hand friend.'

Forcers were weird, fickle, and unpredictable. Possibly insane. She'd yet to see any evidence to the contrary.

Reholstering the Minos, she looked up, looked at him, looked down. She could taste the blood in her mouth from earlier. The pair were dangling way too high off of the ground, enough of their attention on just holding on that a temporary cease fire made perfect sense.

The second grappling line was still intact. At least that cleared up (as far as Dante was concerned) why he was playing nice all of a sudden. He needed her.

As it happened, a lot more than she needed him.

Neither of them actively attacking each other while dangling over empty air made sense. Helping him?

That made none.

"What's this 'we' chit, you got a Nezumi in your pocket?" She looked a mess, mouth bloody from when her face had hit the inside of the helmet, making the words a little thick.

It could have been banter. Could have. She activated the grappling line, sending it firing out back in the direction they'd started, back toward the exit to this damnable place. With the teams finishing up placing the explosives, the time to get out of here was now. She couldn't talk to any of the squads or to Jairus to that matter, so it was time to get back to him. Or at least get out of here. If she was being honest, she wouldn't really much care if Starvald made it out of here or not. But there was due diligence to be done.

Helping the Jedi?

That didn't even factor into her equation.

It wasn't personal. None of this was. Well, maybe the bit with Starvald. But while the Jedi had broken his training in order to attack her out of anger and malice, Dante followed hers.

Her eyes glanced back at Aten and then she pushed off of the catwalk.

Leaving him behind.

 

[Onrai]

Technicolor Beat
Allies: [member="Ras Val'kor"] │ [member="Atlas Kane"] │ [member="Darth Arabris"] │ @Amun │ [member="Nixia Amabilia"] │ [member="Garen Kalkat"] │ [member="Adrian Vandiir"]
Enemies: [member="The Slave"] | [member="Judas Foster"] | [member="Julian Valentine"] | @A'lah The Green One | [member="Faye"]

The damaged Void Irregular Fleet was still firing away at the battlecruiser. After clearing out the fighters and bombers whose pilots had been killed by the hypervelocity gun rounds, the crew of the Ablution had begun to launch what remained of their boarding shuttles - two or three overstuffed with Dark Troopers - to the Technicolor Beat. Fighters and bombers were launched as well - Coryphins flew from the hangar, at least one clipping the damaged hangar edge as they headed towards the battlecruiser, loaded to the brim with ordnance. Until the ship surrendered, they would continue attacking.

The Conquerors had mostly moved out of the traverse of the Hellbores by the time the next fusillade came, but the Scylla was struck amidships and her beam weapon was destroyed. The Dominant, one of the Carrack II-class Frigates, took multiple Hellbore strikes and was unable to continue functioning, the vessel slowly breaking up into two pieces. There were no escape pods on board that vessel - just enough reinforced bulkheads and redundant systems to hopefully keep the crew alive until they could be rescued.

It was almost over. Vanessa could feel it. Then she would have to turn the attention to that utility ship still lurking in the system...

Spoiler

Class | Name | Length | Shields | Hull | Weapons | Subsystems

Capital Ships
Pluton-class Battleship | Ablution​ | 2000m | 0 | 70 | 82 | 75(Hyperdrive overheated, upper right engine disabled) (Firing on Technicolor Beat, launching fighters and bombers)

Heavy Attack Line Daala
Conqueror-class Heavy Cruiser | Scylla | 1000m | 0 | 85 | 40 (main cannon disabled) | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat with secondary armament)
Conqueror-class Heavy Cruiser | Gorgon | 1000m | 78 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat with secondary armament)
Conqueror-class Heavy Cruiser | Hydra | 1000m | 72 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat with secondary armament)
Conqueror-class Heavy Cruiser | Basilisk | 1000m | 76 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat with secondary armament)
Conqueror-class Heavy Cruiser | Manticore | 1000m | 56 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat with secondary armament)

Pursuit Line Alpha
Carrack II-class Frigate | Dominant​ | 400m | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 (Destroyed)
Carrack II-class Frigate | Oculus | 400m | 74 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat)
Massassi-class Corvette | Claw​ | 200m | 83 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat)
​Massassi-class Corvette | Enforcer​ | 200m | 85 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat)
Massassi-class Corvette | Thule​ | 200m | 66 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat)
Massassi-class Corvette | Zeplin | 200m | 90 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat)
Massassi-class Corvette | Crimson​ | 200m | 57 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat)
Massassi-class Corvette | Talvira​ | 200m | 71 | 100 | 100 | 100 (Firing on Technicolor Beat)

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Location: Pantera-Class Stealth Frigate Nightshade ---> Surface​

Objective: Deploy to Ruins, Halt Sith Activities​

Assets: First Ranger Special Tactics Unit, droid reinforcements​

Nearby: [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"]|[member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Varex"]​

Equipment: Armor | rifle | sidearm | Melee | Holdout |​

________________________________________________________________________________​

The emergence of higher-tier Sith warriors was troubling to the colonel, even during the heat of combat. As the emerging threat became apparent, casualties began to be reported across their lines. Their numbers were still holding strong, but a soldier's death under his command was still one too many. The flashing red blades and black armor was appearing more often than the sithspawn they were cutting down, and it pressure was weighing heavily on the command squad.

It got to a point in which Valkren and Lowder were both pinned down, with so many blaster bolts flying from the opposite side that they couldn't have a chance to fire at the approaching sithspawn and knights. Suddenly, a guardian angel in the form of a GADF marine appeared, actually shoving off a legionnaire that had crept up upon the pinned pair of rangers. The major's burst of rounds sliced down many of the spawn approaching their position, and made many of the enemy troops move into cover.

"Happy to help, Major!" He said, somewhat ironically.

Calderon pulled himself out of cover, flipping the firing mode on his blaster to its 'light repeating' mode, before shouldering it and giving a solid spray in front of him. With this setting, putting one-hundred rounds down range was no sweat, and an extra hundred would only need another few trigger pulls. Once his ammunition was spent, he'd discard the old one and just as smooth as their marine counterpart did, exchange it for a fresh magazine. With another fluid motion of his trigger hand, he'd switch the weapon back to its normal blaster rifle mode.

More rangers were freeing up their positions with the help of their newly arrived allies.

The colonel moved forward with his command squad, with Lieutenant Harris returning soon with his platoon of men aswell to support the spearhead forces. The lieutenant's rotary cannon was vital in clearing a path for him and their squad. After pushing closer to the ruins, he'd turn back to Major Pyn after her statement on the 'evil wizards.'

"We have people moving on objective already, we were tasked to keep the spawn off their back! But with the amount of these karkin' things popping up, we need to converge on those ruins right away."

Bowers came out of nowhere, slapping Valkren on the shoulder plate as he was speaking to the major in the midst of their push. It took him by surprise, but he was reassured it was one of his own by the proximity of Bowers' tag on his Heads-up-display.

"Sir! Darkstar reported back. They have eyes-on Sith forces massing around the entrance of the ruins. More Sith platoons and spawn are still in the outskirts of the swamp though."

This was a problem, if their front line pushed up and overextended, they'd be pinched by forces on every side. The rangers and marines would need someone covering their six.

"Get the platoon that Harris took with him earlier and move to our most rear advancing team. Keep an eye on our asses! Counting on you, kid!"

He'd slap the corporal on the helmet with a gloved hand before turning to catch up with the advancing forces once more. He had to make sure that all his rangers knew that their group lead was in the front, not giving orders just from the rear.

He still had no idea where Yuoric and Allyson had moved to, but the intensity of the fighting had to be coming close to them. Valkren needed to let them know that heat was coming their way, no matter what or who they were already fighting.

"Commander Locke, Master Xeraic. Our forces are converging on your position. Fun's coming yalls way wether you want it or not-" He was going to continue on with the transmission, but their constant advancement meant more enemies would be on them instantly. Valk' cut the message short, bringing his rifle back up in a hurry to plug a reanimated corpse after it got to close to him.

"By the force, where are these fethin' things coming from?" He could hear Konrad speak over their own channel, the special forces officer on a Ridgeline nearby letting his weapon eat into the enemy forces.

[member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] | [member="Darth Caecus"] | [member="Luca Thorne"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"]

 

[Tabigarashu Madara]

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

Hirou kept it up. Every time the hub crew tried a new remote block, Hirou was there to baffle it. They didn't have to- they weren't accessing the data remotely. Physically sliced into the hard line, playing tag with them like this just kept them looking in the wrong direction a little longer. Every second was more information flowing across to Matsu. Every second was more for the Saaraishash to sort through on the other end. Every second was good. Not a moment of it wasted.

"It keeps reverting back to the local down load, sir."

"But there's no one here. How could it possibly-"

A pause.

"Unless it's someone we can't see."

"That. Is ridiculous."

"Is it? More ridiculous than someone having sliced local draw into their code and then playing hot potato with us over and over again?"

"You talking what? Invisible?"

"That or very, very small."

Hirou's paws stilled on the pad. There was silence on the other side of the wall. Black eyes looked down at the data stream. Two more minutes, that was all and they'd have everything. Frantically, Hirou pulled up a command. Hit enter.

People started yelling on the other side of the wall. The sound of water spraying.

"TURN OFF THE FIRE SUPPRESSION PROTOCOLS TURN THEM OFF TURN THEM OFF."

Hirou's ears flicked.

Three minutes.

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Allies: TSE | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Belphaegor"] | [member="Anden Fancelo"] | [member="Tabigarashu Madara"]
Enemies: TRA | [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] | [member="Noah Corek"] | [member="Ursula Vizsla"]
Objective: Get out, live

Three minutes

With seven minutes passed since the Rebels announced a ceasefire with the Sith and allowed their sworn enemy to retreat back with themselves along with their wounded, it was enough time for Lok to get back on his two feet thanks to quick response of the Sith medics to his aid. Bacta was directly injected to his bloodstream which he was able to feel it properties going to work as they sought out for his wounds. It would be excellent for the moment, but it wouldn't solve him the problem of evading a full medical procedure away from battle. Pains were alleviated to a degree, bacta was regenerating some of his tissues and killing off any potential diseases that would harm him from his disgusting burnt wounds.

His men, well not really his men but with those he fought with, were also done being attended...those that survived from the fire cyclone anyways. He didn't really care for them at the moment, he needed to find her.

Mother Matsu.

Belphaegor went to search for her and came successful as a wounded Matsu entered the devastated hangar they stood on.

Mom

A sad, caring thought came across his mind when he saw his adoptive mother in the state that she was. Alive, but battered with whatever fight she was involved in.

"Time is running, make sure everyone is on board," the Mercenary said to one of the officers, obeying the order and running through every unit to see if they had every breathing body back with them. Ten minutes wasn't enough, and the work was rushed and sloppy.

"Mom," Lok said as he approached Matsu and Belphaegor with a bit of limp in his legs, "I already have a transport for us, there should be some medical supplies heal y'all for now."

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: Gree Space, Asation, Ancient Ruins
Objective: Unleash that which has Slumbered
Allies: [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] [member="Darth Caecus"] [member="Luca Thorne"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]
Enemies: [member="Varex"] [member="Kamon Vondiranach"] [member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Avoim Oeymo"] [member="Valkren Calderon"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

Equipment: Armor Lightsaber

Oh it was... beautiful. Absolutely horrifying, and one could not look at the tear in the veil between worlds for long before they would go mad, but to see the ritual near completion... oh such beauty. The smaller horrors would be spilling all over the planet by now, the ritual opening portals all across Asation, and every single creature that emerged would be enslaved to the will of the Sith. She could feel it coming, it knew the doorway was open again. Pure malice, and hunger... so much hunger. It needed, no... it desired... blood.

Taeli quietly placed a hand on Fiolette's shoulder, a reassurance. Taeli was no longer needed to guide the ritual, it had but moments left before the Terror from Beyond arrived... but there was still one piece of business that needed to be handled. And it would seem it was being handled quite deftly...

In the swamps, red sabers ignited all around Varex and his remaining men, even as the Talons started to gun the Venom Supercommandos and the Sith adepts joined in the carnage. They had their orders to bring Varex to the Lady of Secrets, and while Varex dispatch several Adepts and Sith troopers, it would be futile in the end. There would be far too many even for him to deal with, because after all... Taeli had seen to his training regimen just as she had with the Adepts he would face, and she had put far more effort into the Adepts and Inquisitors that secretly served her. He would be brought before her. She was going to give him a choice, and he would know what it would be. She would be sporting if he chose the latter option... possibly.

 

[Kyla Asla]

Objective: Stop any TRA from escaping
Allies: TSE
Enemies: TRA

"Admiral, is this how long we took to get here, we miss all the blood?" She asked. "Hey, blame our 1st Enginer brigade, they took forever" he replied. Kyla left the room, only to come back with blood covering her. "At least I had some fun" she told the Admiral. "All cruisers surround the Gree sector. Any non-TSE ship escaping will be destroyed" she told the fleet. They moved into position. Kyla brought a chair and relaxed. "At least I'm here for the fireworks, and bring any limbs you find floating in space to me, oh how funny they'll look!" She joked.

"We have reports of a rebel escape in progress, they seem to use there shields to stop incoming fire, your orders?" The officer asked. "Show them there ancestors" she remarked. "Propel on of our ships forward into the cruisers, one ship for each cruiser. Ram them and blow the ship up once it's made contact with a convoy. We will show the might of the Sith to these fools" she told the officer. She warped the command ship to the area just to watch the 'fireworks'

 

[Jairus Starvald]

​

YAMMKA FLEET
[member="Darth Ophidia"]

Once they reversed out of hyperspace the sheer scale of the Gree assault became clear to both of them.

The Rebel Alliance fleet was massive, larger than even the one stationed over Helska and it truly did impress Cerbera. "Mm, say what you want, but the Alliance has done an impressive build-up in such a short period of time." Was this why their reinforcements had never arrived on Helska? The preliminary scans didn't seem to show [member="Darth Imperia"]'s ship, which made Cerbera doubt just a little bit. What else had happened that had complicated their mission so?

The Xiphos blinked out of existence above and Cerbera blinked.

Ten kilometers of ship just winking out of existence.

Presumably the exhaust fumes would still show up, if someone made a direct scanning effort, but they had to know it was there first. "This is going to be hard," Cerbera murmured to Ophidia as she watched several of the Rebel ships detaching themselves from their fleet to address their arrival in the system.

Her hand brushed Ophidia's shoulder softly.

"But I would not have wanted anyone else at my side during this."

Vector lanes were opened as the vanguard of the Rebel ships came into firing range. It would turn into a mess, but such was war, no?

All they could hope was that their combined forces would be enough to break their resistance.

Their... hope.