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

[Thyne]

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Solonariwan Tofusin"]​

The missile's impact on the Powerhammer had Thyne flinching, half ducking behind Joyce should debris fall towards them. They really were in the thick of it, or at least close enough that this no longer seemed like some silly training exercise. The boy watched the Legionnaires react accordingly, the return fire aiming to decimate those who would happily destroy them.

Whether or not he was joining Joyce wasn't exactly a question. There wasn't much more for him out here, already a lost puppy even in the company of a familiar face. His head moved wildly in the confines of that blasted helmet, trying to get a visual of every little thing he heard as Joyce pulled him onto the shuttle. Soon, perhaps, he'd be in an area in which he'd actually demonstrate some utility.

The closer they got to the battle itself, the more he could see. Though, even that was limited by the comparative size of his companions. There weren't shoulders to peer over, not that he could easily manage on his own. Nevertheless, they were growing closer, nearly ready to take part in the battle before them.

And then they were falling. Thyne's person was tossed about like a ragdoll, smacking into and being smacked by armored bodies. Somewhere in the chaos, his head took a rather nasty collision with the shuttle's interior. And then, it was all over as they hit the ground. His head was ringing, everything leaving him in a daze. Numbly, he called upon the force, pushing the troops that'd fallen upon him aside. He didn't get up though, just laying there, his brain struggling to process what just happened.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Objective: Get medical attention. Also have weird dreams.
Location: Medbay.
Enemies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Tabigarashu Madara"]. [member="Belphaegor"], [member="Lok Munin"], [member="Anden Fancelo"]. None engaged
Allies elsewhere: [member="Cedric Grayson"]


What does not kill you makes you stronger. Mother was fond of saying that. Presumably someone who'd been spaced into the dark void of space, suffered a stroke and lost limbs an absurd amount of times could not understand that most people regarded something as pedestrian as maiming as more than a minor inconvenience. Siobhan Kerrigan was a harsh woman. Everything in her life, the good and the bad, had shaped her into one. Elpsis was not a daughter she'd wanted. However, as hurtful as the lack of maternal affection was, she had taken the time to train the girl. To push her to excel and forge her into a fighter. The skills she had passed had probably helped Elpsis perform as she in this fight.


Aided by Natalie, Elpsis staggered towards the medbay. Everything seemed like a blur to her. Exhaustion made it difficult to focus, especially after having endured a mental attack. The fact that she had trouble hearing much of anything did not help. Her hearing was slowly returning, but even so she missed much. By the time they reached the medbay, it was already being frequented by several rebels. The fight for the hangar, however brief the hot phase it might have been, had demanded a tribute in blood from both sides. Still, she was quickly handed over to the care of medics. Perhaps her deeds had won her some minor renown. However, proper surgery would have to wait. There were rebel troopers with worse injuries, after all. Limb replacement would have to wait for obvious reasons.


Bacta was applied to the badly burnt stump that remained of her left arm. Being so out of control caused anxiety to grip her heart, but she composed herself when she felt Natalie was close. The hardened was conversing with one of the medics. Elpsis could not hear the words clearly and as much as she struggled to stay awake, exhaustion soon overcame her. As the Acerbitas vanished in the depths of hyperspace, Elpsis slipped into unconsciousness.


She found herself in a beautiful forest, far, far away. The ancient Wroshyr trees towered above her, the fems and other foliage whispered in the wind, the cold wind blew fitfully, brushing against her skin. Exotic birds chirped and tach played. Above all, she could see. Truly see in a way she had not done since Omega. Not in the material world, at any rate. It was difficult to remember what it had been like to see. There was a misty fog in the air, yet she saw more clearly than ever.

"Beautiful, is it not? I was always fond of Kashyyyky. I recall you came here once, yes? With the Mando'ade, ere fire scoured their world," startled by the words, Elpsis turned around to face the source of the noise. Only to find a robed figure gazing upon her. The figure was that of a human woman, but there was something otherworldly about the way she carried herself. Her aura radiated power and was as bright as a nova.

Her feet did not touch the grass, for she was hovering slightly above ground. "Hello, child."

"Hey...I guess this isn't the afterlife. I mean, it's pretty nice. Wouldn't mind some girls."

"No, Elpsis. I am reasonably certain you have not crossed the threshold to the Elysian Lands."

"You know my name. Are you...Her?"

"If it pleases you to label me as such," the being said with an enigmatic smile. "You have fought valiantly. Here you can rest, enjoy what little reprieve time will grant you." Her tone of voice was compassionate, yet also carried a note of sadness.

"Just need a new arm, is all. And mended ribs, I guess," Elpsis tried to brush things off with feigned casualness. "I'll be back to burning Sith karkers in no time."

"Of that I have no doubt, child," the being placed her hand upon Elpsis' shoulder. Abruptly the empath felt a strong tingle, for the entity's skin was unnaturally warm to touch. "You have endured so many trials. But I fear they are not at an end."

An expression of puzzlement crossed Elpsis' features. She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean? You know my future?"

"Before the phoenix can soar from the ashes, it must be consumed by its flames."

"Look, I'm not one for cryptic talk. Just give me an answer...ok?" Elpsis demanded a bit impatiently. "Will something happen to my family? Will they get hurt? Please, I must know." There was an almost pleading note in her tone.

"You will venture to a broken paradise. A forgotten, ruined world whose suffering produces a chorus that goes unheard. You will be scorned and humiliated. You will betray your family. You will forget everything you hold dear. And then, when you have fallen into the darkest void, you will burn with a light of your own."

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

​

Legionnaire Advanced | CSM-10 | Blaster Rifle | Vibrosword | Dagger ​

Ion Grenade x2 | Flash Detonator x1 | Thermal Detonator x1​

​

There would always be the moment before the Lotek'k appeared. A moment where the fight spilled into the antechamber, the minds of the unguarded began to twist. Then the second afterward the horror had appeared. Maddening screeches reached Fiolette and in a thought it was gone her helmet turned Taeli's work a soft barrier to keep the woman and her soldiers unharmed from the beast. A grateful moment for Taeli and another for the suit filtering out as much of the stench as possible but even then it was hard to not react to it. Mere mortals in the wake of godly beast wrought forth from the beyond. The choking darkness that filled the antechamber afterward forced Fiolette to activate the helmet's alternate vision modes.

Violet hues of Taeli's barrier flickered. Fiolette wanted to give the woman her attention but instead with her vibrosword brandished moved up with the thought of reinforcing the entrance but that all changed. She heard the all too familiar snap-hiss of the Sith's lightsaber, "Talons!" She shouted to the squad with her and the five moved forward to reinforce the woman's position. Armored boots against the ground were drowned by the beast and its orchestra of death. Dagger like tentacles emerged as the beast began to form and it sound well over anything that Fiolette could have possibly imagined.

Legionnaires began their firing on the Jedi's position, whisks of crimson fled the barrels of their blasters as Fiolette worked up a run before she leapt forward. Grappling hook and cable outward hurtled toward the antechamber's bricks. Digging in with ferocity as the Galidraani now moved parallel to Taeli, vibrosword aimed to strike at the Jedi preparing herself for the backlash to come. The cries of the sorcercers below fell into the cacophony of terror that now resonated throughout the chamber and spilled out onto the complex grounds that surrounded this place.

---

Allies: [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Luca Thorne"] | [member="Darth Caecus"] | The Sith Empire
Opponents: [member="Varex"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Valkren Calderon"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Avoim Oeymo"] | The Rebel Alliance
Objective: Guard the Temple Complex | Protect the Sith
Unit / Unit Gear: 52nd Company, Legionnaire Advanced Armor + Legionnaire Standard Gear
Direct Engagement: [member="Kamon Vondiranach"]
Indirect Engagement: 52nd Company vs Venom Assault Squad | Secondary Engagement, Reinforce Blackblades.

 

[LT-137]

​

Gree // Planetary Surface // Sith-Imperial Beachhead -> Capital Outskirts.

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.

​

​

In the moments before the disabling projectile slammed into the Sith-Imperial lines, Khonsu had shifted his attention towards directing his Sun Guard into battle. All save the Twisuns Legate himself were thusly ordered to return to their dropships and assail the enemy from above as they raced across the field to relieve their vanguard forces. With a collective sigh of frustration transmitted over their encrypted channels, the Thyrsian host turned away from the Sith lines and boarded their armed transports in preparation for the assault to come. It took longer for the Legate’s cohort to make their exit, as they were uneasy at the prospect of leaving their Commander alone. However, after transmitted words of encouragement and a subtle pat of his sidearm, they turned about and began the journey towards their dropship.

When the impact of the exotic munition had resounded nearby, Khonsu’s shrouded eyes were drawn towards the planted line of artillery to see what transpired. One of the enemy’s missiles had smashed into one of the larger guns, sending arc’s of brilliant sapphire energy coursing through the vehicle’s armour plating; frying the delicate circuits within. He shook his head in disbelief. Instead of cowering in fear, or giving into their anger, the Legionnaires took cover - but rose swiftly thereafter with renewed vigour. It was an impressive sight; One that had nearly stirred the ashes of the Thyrsian’s memory with visions of the past. With the voice of the Sith titan echoing across their connected link, however, had brought a swift end to that moment of recollection.

It wasn’t the time to drift from the present, and as such, the Sun Guard silently cursed himself for slipping.

Tearing his gaze away from the distant artillery crew, Khonsu followed his contracted commander towards one of the nearby troop shuttles. The man could see that the soldiers were eager, just as he was, to finally get into the fight. They were checking their weapons and slamming fresh plasma cartridges into their housings when the modest entourage had arrived. Their lusterless ebony and ivory gazes regarded their Commander with a nod, before offering the same gesture to her companions. When she had vaulted onto the deployment deck and turned to offer her hand, the Thyrsian took it and was subsequently pulled into the central compartment of the shuttle.

Khonsu nodded his thanks, as the blast doors sealed behind him. Without waiting for the man to take his place within the transport, the Pilot raced off through the rain - clearly eager to carry his organic cargo into the fray. The Sun Guard jerked forward and snapped his hand towards the cargo netting affixed to the shuttle’s roof; attaining some measure of stability once his taloned fingers slipped through the woven loops. They traversed the treacherous terrain in silence, save for the moment that several eyes turned towards their Captain, as vibrant flames violently caressed her lobstered hand. Before his mind could fathom, let alone register the possibilities of what such a sight meant - a terrible clunking noise resonated throughout the shuttle.

Warning klaxons began blaring within the troop shuttle, and the interior lights started pulsating a vibrant crimson. They must’ve hit something during their expedient transit, and Khonsu felt the shuttle beneath his gilded feet begin to list, sharply. In a matter of seconds, the Sun Guard was thrown forwards as the transport tore into the drenched earth, smashing into a pair of Legionnaires. It took the wind out of him, as the impact gel crystalized - and left him stunned as the catalytic agents began to revert the process. A part of him wanted to tear off his helmet to breathe but was quickly quashed by the atmospheric warnings that flashed across his visor as a taloned hand unconsciously drifted towards his neck seal. If he took off his helmet, he was good as dead.

Shaking off the hyperventilating shock by closing his eyes and holding his breath, the Sun Guard began to rouse himself from where he was thrown and began scanning the compartment for survivors. Spears of sickly light and rain poured in from a retracted door, and Khonsu couldn’t see the Sith Lady. He assumed she was the first to tear herself from the wreckage, seeking to inflict her wrath upon any enemy that found themselves unlucky enough to be within her gauntleted reach. With a groan, the man fought to follow after, ushering the Sith-Imperial troopers out all-the-while. They heeded his command, especially when reinforced by their Captain’s barked order, but there was one that seemed pinned in place.

He recognized the trooper as the Sith titan’s attache. The lithe figure had pushed several stunned troopers out of the way but seemed to still process what transpired. That wasn’t good. They couldn’t stay here - not when the city was so close and the threat of danger was real. So, without thinking about the repercussions, Khonsu snapped forward and snatched the dazed form of Thyne from his chosen resting place. He threw the armoured man over his shoulder with a groan of protest echoing through his gilded power armour and subsequently exited the shuttle. Immediately after doing so, several plasmatic bolts impacted his armour - marking the burnished plates with a handful of carbon scores.

He couldn’t reach his mobility shield, not with the dazed trooper carelessly thrown over an armoured pauldron. Nor could he grasp his service rifle, as it hung lifelessly behind his back just out of reach. That wasn’t good. For the first time in what seemed like an age, the Sun Guard was vulnerable. What made things worse, was the fact they were approaching the city on foot in the rain. If the fortified enemy position and minefield wasn’t bad enough, the rolling downpour turned the dirt beneath their feet into treacherous terrain. He cursed his fortune and yanked the sidearm from his magnetized thigh plating. Damn these curs, the man thought, as his targeting sensors swept the horizon. He would make them pay for this.

Raising his pistol, as his suit flashed a successful target-lock, Khonsu unleashed the fury of the Sun with a gentle squeeze of the trigger. A coalesced beam of amber burst forth from the nozzle of the weapon, connecting with an Alliance soldier as the man stood to provide covering fire for his comrades. Much like the Vahla’s display of power mere moments before, the enemy soldier screamed in agony as he suddenly burst into flames - and fell to ash soon after. Not even the downpour could save him from this fateful terminus.

With the draped Thyne across his shoulder, the Sun Guard pushed forward; seeking to join the mighty Joycelyn as they advanced towards the enemy’s entrenched line.

 

[Tehkyram]

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

The Jedi refused to attack. Even in the midst of inevitable conflict, he sought peace. Was it pity that Tehkyram felt for the Jedi? No, no, not pity. It was disgust. A simmering disgust that tightened his guts and boiled his insides. His master's poetry readings ran through his head:

"Obedience to the point of death,
falling down through increasing
Pressure
into the deathlike region
of ooze and slime and decay.
These are the fruits and symptoms of
the abasement of the Galaxy,
the assumption of sentience and the simultaneous occultation of The Force."

Yes, the Jedi truly were a disgusting little cult. He could see why so many Sith despised them so much. He continued to approach the Jedi wordlessly, observing his mannerisms. There was great pain in his labored breaths, enough to signify that this time his calls for surrender and submission were stalling efforts. The delightful aroma of fear was thick and filled the air. The Jedi was weakened substantially, ready to be finished off. Tehkyram stepped closer and closer, moving in range. His next blow may not be a killing one, but the Jedi would still fall in due time.

 

[Arage Bao]

​

The Voidlight Cathedral
[member="Darth Imperia"] [member="Lyra Sarn"] ||| OOC: [member="Sebastian Thel"] mentioned they are going on a LOA and asked me to skip their post, hence me posting now!

They rounded the corner and all of a sudden every alarm in her head rang at the same time.

Danger it screeched at her.

But while precognition was all good and well it could only do so much. It gave her the warning, but it didn't tell her what it was warning her from. Hence the sheer shock (and indignation) at the knive flying towards her at a velocity that almost seemed impossible to be true. Verse would have expired there truth to be told. Why? Because right about there the Zygerrian was only doing one thing to defend herself against the attack. She glowered furiously at the silvery shine coming at her.

After all.

If it knew what it was good for it would deflect itself, before even daring to touch her skin. That obviously wasn't how it worked and the sharpness embedded itself straight into her skin. Where it suddenly froze.... and then dropped to the ground.

Only some blood trickling down between her thin eyebrows.

"They drew my blood!" Verse exclaimed with a huff that seemed to border on disbelief. "Did you see that, darling-" A glance to her right showed that Imperia was dealing with her own problems. "Oh... hun, that really doesn't look comfortable." She murmured softly before dabbing at her forehead. Then the command filtered through a moment later. Oh! Right. Um. Verse glanced upwards towards the vent, it wasn't really possible to see where the rude chit was crambling, but-

There.

Her ears flickered as the sound of knees bounced against the durasteel and gave Verse a rough idea where Lyra was right now.

Palm decorated with neat, white gloves (marred now with crimson) lashed out and a kinetic burst would launch into the vent, hopefully catching the chit and causing some pain.

---

In the meantime Voidlight was wondering what it had done to deserve such vile treatment.

It didn't hurt, of course, but that didn't prevent it from being exasperated at the sheer damage the rebels were doing to its innards. The shots rang through its corridors and it was only her early warning (sensors) that allowed some of the security forces to evacuate right before the explosions bursts. It caused immediate decompression and destruction.

" Mistress. The Rebels have ignited several explosions throughout my decks, I am afraid they now have a clear path into the adjacent corridor. Engaging secondary security protocols now. "

Turrets.

They engaged themselves at the choke points right as the rebels began to swarm through the holes they created.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Gree Enclave
Honestly Fething Creepy Shipyard
Allies: TSE, [member="Dante Sotari"]
Enemies: ALL THE GREEEEEE, TRA, [member="Romi Jade"] [member="Aten Ramses"]

"What do you mean you can't reach Sotari? Nevermind, prep the charges, we are done here."

All of this said over him grappling with another tentacle. They writhed, the shipyard around them screeching with every lightsaber cut Romi was making, while trying to get him into a choke hold. Already there were multiple cuts, where sharpened angles had managed to dig in before Jairus managed to twitch them out. "The more expensive sniper shot clearly didn't have any effect." Jai deflected back to her, a bit absentmindedly as he finally managed to rip another tentacle away from him.

Precognition settled in.

Why was it always a scream?

Jairus just about managed to glance back up, hands rising up to shield himself from the strength of her blow, but he was too late. It caught him straight in the face and blasted him off the railing. Had the catwalk been more stable, his attention less split, ...maybe a bit less arrogant, the Sith Lord might have been able to deflect and end her. Instead he was send flying- there was anger within him, rousing anger of complete victory snatched from his own jaws at the last moment.

She could have been his.

Eyes squinted at the shrinking form of the Jedi.

She would be nobody's.

As the wind buffeted around him, dragging at his robes, his hand lashed out one more time. Fingers contorting, dragging, blood starting to draw from his nose because of the sheer focus as the Force expanded around him and enveloped itself around the catwalk Romi was balancing on. Then- rip and shred as Jairus attempted to demolish the support beams beneath her. If the Sith was to go? Then he would sink his teeth into the Jedi and drag her with him into the abyss.

 

[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 |

Oh, Dante wasn't a nice lady. She wasn't bad either maybe but nice? No. It was not a word anyone she knew would use to describe her. The fact that he was willing to call a truce on their fight was the main reason she hadn't opened fire on him as soon as she was pushed off. Right now, getting out of here was more important to her than killing him. After all, the first was personal- she liked that whole living thing. She had someone to go home to. The second? Eh.

Just what they paid her to do.

She swung through the air, letting some of the slack out of the line so she would aim at an entrance a level below where they had come in. Too much of a mess there, not knowing where the soldiers that had come with the Jedi were. The wind whipped past her face, making her eyes water without the helmet on. She glanced up to where she could see the forms of Jairus and..... dang it the woman she'd shot. Her free hand shifted to the Minos, intending on taking another shot if she could from here when-

The sound of the Force Scream, even at a distance, hurt her ears. Jairus flew off of the platform-

She could let him die. Who would be able to say that she could have saved him? All it would take is for her to not reach out a hand, not catch him as she passed. None of her men were here. There would be no one to naysay if she reported that there was nothing she could have done. With the explosives placed and the entire station rigged to blow, the chances he'd be able to make his way to their evac point, with the station trying to kill them all before it blew? Even a Sith Lord might find that a challenge.

As he fell, he turned slightly, their eyes meeting.

For a heartbeat, he would see clearly in her eyes exactly what she was contemplating.

Kark.

And then she reached out, gauntlet locking around his wrist as she swung past, snatching him out of free fall.

Logically, she couldn't be sure he'd die. And the idea of a pissed off Sith Lord who was already too involved in her life by half coming for her (gods, for Morgan) was too much of a risk.

She hoisted him up, using the strength in the suit to augment right before she pulled up her knees- they hit the railing, Dante's feet absorbing most of the shock, and she pushed him over the top of it before releasing the grappling line and hoisting herself over.

"Hope you have a working comm," she gasped, winded, through bloody lips. "Cause I don't think we have a lot of time."

 

[Cenric Marus]

​

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

Cenric didn't budge, didn't move a muscle.

Every second that passed allowed him to regain some composure, allowed the force to bend small wounds and keep him standing longer. He knew that he would never win going toe to toe with this Sith, knew that he wouldn't match him strength for strength. That had been true since the beginning of this fight, but now it was even more dire. With quiet contemplation Cenric watched the Sith Apprentice, the grip on his lightsaber never wavering.

He remembered the teachings of his Master, the small snippets he had learned at the Temple.

Most importantly though he leaned on the abilities of his own people. Kinetic Communication, reading someone's body language. Small twinges of muscle, micro-expressions, all of it was like an open book to him. It was a little different with aliens, but still close enough.

He watched the Sith, watched and waited for him to make his move.

It would be the last.

 

[Djorn Bline]

​

Location: Gree, Capital City
Allies: TSE | [member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Thyne"] | [member="Vestille Thumahra"]
Enemies: TRA | [member="Wyatt Morga"] | [member="Bernard of Arca"]
Objective: Infiltrate
Gear: Here minus two thermal detonators

As Sith-Imperial forces began closing in Djorn was already ahead of his comrades and allies. He was within the city limits of the Capital City and could hear very well off in the distance of fighting and other combat engagements. There were some pockets of battles in divisions of the Capital City, but that wasn't Djorn's fight. No, he had another mission to follow...something he made of his own without the consultation of General Vexen or another esteemed commander. Though it was something familiar to him as sometimes he would undertake missions that weren't assigned to him, or disobey orders that were incompetent for him and make his own path.

What he had in mind was sabotaging rebel cells that took refuge within the Capital City, and fortified themselves in a deep hold. Perhaps they were outnumbered and under sieged with little chances of escaping alive, but it would be a tight and difficult battle to win.

However, with his specialized equipment and refined skills the Inquisitor would be quite enough to cause some havoc. Not obliterate an entire rebel cell as that was beyond his reach, but cause enough damage and ruin for the rebels and their fortifications. Make things a bit easier for the Legion to conquer their foes.

Running in the Capital City the Inquisitor did his best in dodging any firefight as his eyes set on some towering buildings that looked down upon the fighting that had surrounded it. Be suicidal for the rebels to take haven in skyscrapers and other grand buildings. Artillery and other ordnance would make that a living hell. No, they'd rest themselves somewhere low-key and adequate enough to hold rebels, so that they could set up and execute their hit-and-run operations against Sith-Imperial forces. Something that couldn't be brushed off as their advance was delaying because of these tactics.

"Well this looks like a job for me," the Agent muttered to himself.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Allies: TRA​

Enemies: TSE​

Suicide Squad: [member="Kamon Vondiranach"] | [member="Valkren Calderon"] | [member="Avoim Oeymo"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] ​

Engaging: [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"]​

Ritual Site​

End of Line​

​

​

​

Of course, Varex nodded wearily when Taeli corrected him on her latest nom de plume, How fitting.

And then came her ultimatum. The Rogue Jedi had been expecting something like it, and maybe if he had not been Tranquil her offer would have tempted him. She sought to play on innate sentient desire for companionship, to be a part of something bigger. His Order destroyed, the Galactic Alliance in ruins, he had nothing to look forward to but a lifetime on the run whether Raaf lived or died this day. Another in his place might have broken then and there, but Varex had no ego to manipulate. Belonging and ambition were both alien to him, emotions he was literally incapable of feeling by nature.

So now he was left with a choice, as his former master knew he would be. Run, only to be cut down by the Sith Imperial army between him and safer ground. Or stand his ground and attempt to shield his own mind in the same fashion, a daunting proposition given no time to prepare and physical exhaustion from his fight with one of her Mandalorian lackeys. Even if he somehow managed to hold onto himself, he would be swiftly executed by any Sith who managed to survive the terror's wake.

There is only one choice.

Varex staggered to his feet. By now Taeli and the others were safely behind protective barriers, and although he fought not to look he could already feel the other side of a now open Gate clawing at his mind through the Force, tempting him to look and see. He did not have long. Summoning the rest of his mental strength, the Inquisitor lashed out with all of his rage and ferocity, tapping into the Darkside for the first time in his life. Psychic tendrils lashed out...not at Taeli Raaf, but at [member="Darth Prazutis"].

He was a Knight of the Jedi Inquisition, trained by the Deceiver herself, and it had not taken him long to pinpoint the conductor of this particular ritualistic orchestra. Rending at the Sith Lord's soul with an unbound fury, he sought to siphon the ebon robed figure's connection to the Force itself. It would not be enough, in his current state, to inflict serious lasting harm. But if fortune favored him, he just might interrupt the Sith during a crucial moment of his binding incantation. The others could try to stop him, but that would mean stepping outside their protective barriers. Would they be willing to risk it?

All it took was a glance, but Varex's stubbornness cost him dearly. There was no way to focus his will on Prazutis without taking in the dark universes yawning beyond. He glimpsed black worlds roll in horror unheeded and without lustre. He glimpsed an endless sickly starfield, each twinkling speck an ancient unknowable force capable of devouring whole dimensions of reality. He glimpsed truly impossible things. A great and terrible awareness filled his mind.

The Jedi's eyes rolled in his head, and when they fluttered back into visibility each held swirling galaxies bathed in flame.

It's not a lake. It's an ocean.

 

[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 now x7)

Fire started coming from the army that was attacking the city. There were a good amount of civilians trying to escape, to live another day and they didn´t let them flee. The corvettes resisted most of the damage, as they had their shields up. The thunderbirds that were at the back of Solon received damage, as bullets penetrated one of the engines "My ship isn´t working. Leave me behind, i will see if there are any other ships still on the capit" Solon ship lower its speed. Being at the side of the Rebel fighter "I will open the hangar. Get out of your ship and jump towards me" they were still on the planet, but in moments they would get close to the atmosphere. The Rebel doubted, as that was a risky action, asked so suddenly, but they were trained to do things quick for survival.

The MK ship got at the right distance, as smoke started to come out. Solon leave it in auto-pilot, with the command of advancing at the current velocity, then run to the hangar. The gate opened and he just grabbed a simple bar from the wall, extending his arm towards the damaged fighter. The speed was enough for him to start to get exhausted because of that effort. The Rebel took out the fighter window and his strap. The jump was a little far, like three or four meters away. The Rebel, a simple human take the leap, jumping as far as he could, but it wasn´t enough "No..." just a meter, and Solon would´ve grab his hand. The image of friends dying filled his mind, as he try to reach as far as possible.

"No!" Solon was tired of this situations happening in his life. Something awoken in him, as the time started to get slow and slow. The Rebel was pulled into Solon hand, and he also pulled back at the same moment. Both fell in the floor of the ship, both of them alive but thinking the same. Solon felt like a beast, but he didn´t knew what was that "I have to get to the cabin, i need assistance with the weapon system. Quick!"

A minute later, the seven thunderbirs were getting out of orbit "Free my path and i will get that cruiser down!" it was a big thing to say. First they needed to resist the turret fire and the swarm of ships guarding "Reports says that apparently the booma ammos and mines worked" "That will show them" said two Rebels on the radio

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Yammka Fleet
[member="Cerbera"]

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Truly, the Rebel fleet was impressive, and it made Ophidia's hairless eyebrows wrinkle in concentration. She tried to understand in whose favour the battle tipped, but to her untrained eyes, it was hard to tell. However. a hint of a smile crept over Ophidia's lips as the Xiphos faded out out, and she could sense Cerbera's blink.

Oh certainly, its exhaust was possible to trace, but in its current position surrounded by the Yammka fleet, and with the chaotic backdrop of the battle around them, it would be difficult to truly pin it down yet.

"Nothing worthwhile is easy, dear."

Ophidia's left hand, black like ink, with its rough, scarred skin, reached up and touched Cerbera's hand as her shoulder was brushed. These were their creating hands, twisted and made to twist the world around them into the strange and corrupt.

"Oi tuti mus ao rariu" The worlds were High Sith, the language of enchanting and great things. Rarely spoken; rarely heard; never uttered lightly.

Rebel ships and Vong raiders clashed with a feral ferocity. Yammka Fleet especially was like a band of wild animals, ripping and tearing in a chaotic concord. The smaller raiding ships were decidedly at a disadvantage against the larger military ships. At the same time, they attacked in unfamiliar formations and used their light, fast ships in attempts outmanoeuvre their enemies. The Rebels appeared to have the upper hand.

Then

One could almost sense the shift in the air as the Xiphos moved. There was a gap in the battle, where the Rebel ships were pushing through the raiders. All of the sudden, ships canted, their hulls ripped open by some invisible force as ten kilometers of phrik rammed though the centre of the gap.

Every time the Xiphos rammed, Darth Ophidia's heart jumped into her throat. She was anxious about the design she had been loosely associated with. Its failure would be damaging to her person, not to mention damaging to the Empire's reputation.

 

[Arage Bao]

Location: Satikan, Capital of Asation
Objective: Get The Feth Out Of Dodge Asation.
Allies: [member="Darth Caecus"]
Enemies: TSE, TRA, Open to Interaction

There had never been a discussion between them about good, bad, evil- right or wrong.

Neither Kith nor Luca had ever lived in that world. Where things were easy, where the lines were straight and obvious. Every choice made, every path taken, the road was blurry and grey and truth mattered far less than one could have hoped for. Did Luca have opinions on what Kith did in that split-second? Yes. Was it the right call for them? Most definitely. The abomination whirred around with a speed that was bordering on the unreal and immediately heaved its sticky body towards the three guards.

They had frozen into place.

That was their mistake.

Luca didn't look or watch, instead allowing Kith to pull him along. Even with his back turned as they vaulted over the wall Luca could hear the screams. Maybe if he had been a different sort of person those screams would have haunted him for the rest of his life.

But while they had made the right decision to organize the alarms, they weren't good people. Just ones with enough awareness that all of this was wrong. "We can't return home." Luca murmured to Kith as they ran, sticking to the alleyways and in the shadows. All around them everything devolved as more of the beasts emerged, ripping their way into reality as that veil was thinned out by the Sith ritual. "Remember our emergency bay?"

A Sith and an Imperial Agent.

They had contingencies.

Hopefully they'd make it there alive.

 

[Tabigarashu Madara]

Allies: No one any longer (TSE, [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Belphaegor"] [member="Anden Fancelo"] [member="Lok Munin"])
Enemies: The crew of the Acerbitas
Objective: Hide. Don't Die (so you know, the usual)

The data pad pinged softly.

100%

Was it possible that none of the information would be useful to them? Absolutely. But maybe, just maybe, the Saaraishash could glean something off of it. Something that would allow the Empire to hunt down the rest of this uprising. Hirou could only hope that the risk here and now was worth it. If it wasn't?

All of those people in the hangar would have died for nothing.

And Hirou?

Well.

They listened with half an ear to the hubbub on the other side of the bulkhead. But most of their attention was on a message, sent directly to Belphagor's comm. For some reason, it was too hard to send it to Matsu directly. Belphagor would understand what Hirou had done and why. Matsu was.... so far above Hirou that it was like gazing at a sun. Too much, it both burned and warmed at the same time. Yes, better to address another mortal here.

In the moments between the soft ping and the Acerbitas leaping into hyperspace, Hirou typed swiftly.

~I am sorry for the lie, but it was a necessary one. There was no time to explain, and certainly no time for anyone to reach me. I was sent to extract whatever data I could from the Acerbitas. If everything went well, that should all be available to Matsu now. Please, please deliver that to [member="Darth Saarai"]. Tell him.... that I am sorry. I will find a way back, I promise. But that information was more important than one little Nezumi. Tell Matsu I am sorry as well. For lying. I needed to know that she would not try to come for me and get stuck on the Acerbitas herself. I am small, I can hide. I will be okay. But I was afraid that this ship would be a tomb for anyone else. Please, get that intel to the Saaraishash. It will make everything worthwhile. I hope. Signing off, your friend, Hirou.~

Hirou hit send and then a heartbeat later felt the ship lurch, the jump to hyperspace.

The Nezumi was alone. On a ship full of people who wished to see the Empire destroyed.

"Aha!" Came a triumphant call from the other side of the wall. Hirou froze, whiskers quivering.

"Tell me you figured out how to shut the GORRAM WATER OFF."

"No, well, yes but- someone is sliced in through the primary lines. Direct! Hard input!"

"There's no one HERE, we already-"

"The line is the one that runs through the bulkhead sir. Someone is in the walls."

Silence for a moment.

"Get fusion cutters. NOW."

By the time they cut through the bulkhead, Hirou was already gone. Scampering somewhere else in the ship, keeping to the vents and the spaces between decks. But they found the place they had spliced into the main line. And tiny, bloodied paw prints.

The crew of the Acerbitas knew Hirou was there.

The question was only what would happen if they found them.

 

[Romi Jade]

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Disregard this! Haha​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Landed on Gree, in the muddy plains - Assaulting the Capital​

OCCUPY GREE-STREET​

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[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"]​

As the Corvette and its escort exited orbit, the great cannons made their last few shots at the stragglers, but range was a cruel mistress and they knew when the end came. Instead, the artillery focused on the city and awaited the commissioned targets of the boots on the ground. Their precision would be tested, but they were confident. They had the Emperor's confidence.

The stakes were all the more apparent here, on the ground.

The booma mines had halted the first row of machinery, but those who followed were all the more wary. They did not push their expensive machinery into the fray, but kept them at a distance. Their great guns of the walkers supported the infantry's advance with suppressive fire, while squads of Legionnaires sent missiles to intercept and detonate the mines. Their approach was slowed, but the Legion's clockwork synergy maintained a steady forward momentum.

The alabaster tide of the Legion could not be stalled by such meagre defences.

Joycelyn Zambrano turned for a moment as her fire engulfed another soul and reduced it to its base elements. She saw Khonsu with an armoured form on his shoulder. By mere vision it could have been anyone, but with her familiarity of her men and affinity with the Force, she knew it was Thyne. She did not, however, know why he was in such a compromised position. Her experience assumed the worst. Rage made her face furrow as she turned back to the front lines and their ground assault. It was the stark reality of war that some would die, and that the Force was cold and uncaring when it picked who would live and who would die.

Well, Joycelyn would do some picking of her own.

She stormed towards the trench at a jog. The sloppy mud splashing under her iron feet. She did not duck or weave as the blaster shot scattered over the Imperator's Raiment. The polearm in her hand, with its silvery shaft, ignited in ferocious red as she leapt into the trench. Rage enveloped her mind in its thorned embrace as she landed on top of a rebel soldier and crushed him under her bulk. The spear lashed out like a serpent, bloodshine blade biting and breaking whatever it touched.

The legionnaires saw their Captain fury and followed, albeit with more care of position. Their shots clipped through bodies as they advanced. Grenades slipped into positions and blew bodies asunder. When they came to melee, their maces crushed skulls and mauled flesh with distinct brutality. These were the enemies of the Empire, and to the Empire they were less than a sentient, less than a gentlebeing, less than dirt.

The noose tightened around the capital of Gree and the hangman pulled the lever.

 

[Darth Caecus]

Location: Satikan, Capital of Asation
Objective: NO LONGER DRAW ATTENTION - Get the Feth off of Asation
Allies: [member="Luca Thorne"], always
Enemies: Basically everyone, good job. Open to Interaction

Good versus evil was a luxury. A luxury for those without doubts. Without something to lose.

Everything Kith stood to lose was right there, gripping her hand as they ran.

"I'm sorry Luca," she said softly, glancing over at him. It wasn't an apology. Not at all. It was sympathy. Sorrow. They had built a home here together and just that quickly they were losing it again. But they could start again, somewhere else. As long as they both made it, that was all that mattered.

Home was something, she had learned, that you carried with you where ever you went.

She nodded. Of course she remembered.

"Good thing we made it central," she murmured as they ducked back behind a corner, a patrol of security guards streaming past them. In the distance, shouting, screaming. Blaster fire. For a moment silence before new voices brought it back again. No longer just from behind them either. How many rifts had opened in Satikan? Enough.

"I'll keep us away from the areas with the rifts," she said. "You watch our backs."

Right before they set out again, she stopped him. Reaching up, she tugged down her mask, indicating for him to do the same. Pulling him in, she kissed him, hard and fast. There wasn't time for more.

"I love you."

The words murmured the same way against his mouth before they parted again. They mattered. They were how they brought home with them.

The pair disappeared into the chaos of the city. This time, in truth- no longer willing agents of the Empire, no word to [member="Darth Saarai"]. To go. to live. To love.

Without a heavy hand upon them.

(exit, stage right)​

 

[The Lurking Presence]

It was a hopeless task, trying to unravel whether Belphaegor had known the distortion of truth [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] had extended in those final moments aboard the Acerbitas. For a time the Maenan had simply stood there on the loading ramp; shoulders stooped in anguish as he watched [member="Anden Fancelo"] and his team depart, knowing fully he'd cross paths again with the skillful Lieutenant. For that short time, the heroic deed of the diminutive Hirou, was his alone to reflect upon.

He extended no reply to that final transmission, confined the thoughts and turmoil of his mind as far out of reach of [member="Matsu Xiangu"] as he could; putting all of her instruction and discipline to use, he'd not dishonor the Nezumi's gambit. [member="Darth Saarai"] would be enlightened of the data transfer, The Saaraishash would be informed and the information digested whole, Hirou would not suffer - they will be found. Avenged by terrible retribution if harmed.

But yet, the Knight dwelled. . .

he should have booped the Nezumi snoot.

With a rumble the Transport lifted from the ruined deck of the Hangar Bay, roaring gears growling with discontented cries as the Ramp sealed them in. Vexatious strides carried Belphaegor further inward the Transport, Medical Attendants hastening forward to assay the extent of his injuries; merely gestured aside as he surveyed Matsu and [member="Lok Munin"].

"Your wounds require immediate attending! " One argued feverishly.

"And so they shall be, " the battered man returned pointedly. "When I tell you to. "

For now, however, his Master had to be the focus of his attention. As no sooner than his voice cracked with scorn and fury, the ruse was up. Her misshapen tone belting outwards from the grotesquely wounded mouth, mangled body lurching upwards and about; dread spilling from her every pore - an aspect of her that could very well drive all of them to madness were she not contained.

"Grab her! " Belphaegor demanded of Lok, he too, limping with purpose towards his Mother; seizing the Atrisian by an arm as she pressed towards the Viewport as the Acerbitas fled the system. "Matsu! " He rasped huskily as the three of them sank backwards on to the operating bench, his body giving a great grimace as the struggle extended. "MATSU! "

For as injured as his Master was, her strength could never be questioned. Both Lok and Belphaegor writhing painfully against the woman's punished body as they fought to collect and control her. Unlike most that inhabit the ranks of the Dark Side, she was not one to leave an ally behind - no, even as she was now, he knew she would face down entire Armies in protest. Without an option, Belphaegor would attempt the only avenue they might have if they hoped to return to Sith Space and figure out a solution for the wayward Nezumi.

"Master! " He implored viciously, the limbs of metal that stuck outward of his body jolting him to the very core as he rolled against her; tearing the leather and fabric of the table and snagging on the robes of her armor as he let Lok contend and grapple with her Phrik shrouded shoulders.

With only one arm useful, more of the Medical Detach came in to assist, allowing Belphaegor to untangle himself from the situation and loom upwards, locking the gaze of his amber eyes in to the pale white orbs of the woman. It was a risk - but he needed to take it.

"Matsu, " he said stoutly, attempting to assertively breach the mind of a woman you did not want to venture through; exerting anything he had left in the Force to ease her unconscious. "Matsu. . . sleep. "

 

[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]


The blend of emotions within him was masked well by the more intense whirl of fear and anger raging across so many of the Technicolor Beat's decks. Aided by an old Jedi technique he'd learned, he was confident in the fact that the Slave would not be able to find him through the Force alone. The time he'd gain from this would hopefully be enough for him to unveil the ace up his sleeve fully. He took a few moments to gather himself. The blood that gathered in the grooves of his mask was dripping onto his armour with quiet splashes, overpowered by the sudden screeching of a large metal body being forced across the floor. His target must have spotted the transport too. How many would survive the onslaught of the other Epicanthix? He wondered. Though before the answer was given his name would echo through the hangar, barely audible over the sound of screeching metal. It was taken as a challenge, a demand to break from his cover and face his opponent in open combat. Despite every fibre of his being telling him to do so, the anger and pain fueling this desire, he resisted the urge. It was not yet time to reveal himself again.

The ship finally collided with the recently arrived transport, turning loud screech to wet cracking and pained shouts which were quickly interrupted by a roaring explosion that rang out for several moments. It was quiet afterwards, the flames were a pale shadow of the initial shockwave. Yet the calm died as not only music, but the loud crack of blasters filled the hangar again. Both sounds were polar opposites, the melody cheerful and filled with calm emotion, the crackle of blaster and flame so abrupt and discordant. It made for an ironic backdrop to the spectacle, an unusual battlefield.

The confusion brought about by the sudden change in sonic landscape was not unwelcome, however, as it aided Atlas with another circumstance that favoured him as he attempted to make his way through the hangar unseen, now confident that he would remain unheard. There was an abandoned cargo-lifter closer to the scene of battle that stood dormant and would make for excellent cover while he laid the groundwork for the trap that would, with proper execution, bring about the doom of the hedonistic Slave. Quiet, but swift, steps quickly shortened the distance between Atlas and the cargo-lifter, his eyes constantly trained on his opponent to make sure he wasn't discovered. The reinforcements should serve as enough of a distraction for Atlas to move unseen, but there were too many lethal risks involved to not assure himself that was the case.

As he moved his hand travelled to his collar and underneath the fabric below his chest plate. His gloved hand reached for a small triangular object attached to a string he wore around the neck. He pulled it free of its cover and held it in his hand. The small object was a flat metal circle that served as the centre-point for three triangles, decorated with a myriad of runes scratched all over each of the outer shapes, whereas the circle was left clear, save for a single eye-shaped rune inscribed upon its centre. Blood was smeared across the pendant lending it a rather gruesome appearance. As it lay on the palm of his hand he closed his fingers around it into a fist and began to whisper several ancient words, left unheard for centuries before their rediscovery by the most modern iteration of the Sith. His mind's focus began to unconsciously shift towards the pendant. It felt as though he was slowly entering a trance, a state he was quite wary of, something that put him on guard. Losing himself to what he was about to unleash would be certain failure for this mission and as it was so often the case, failure would be punished harshly.