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  1. Today
  2. Solus

    Space

    As the newly built Exodus-Class Star Destroyer pierced through hyperspace on her maiden voyage, so too did Solus try to tame his hound on his chassis’ maiden combat situation in one of the many hangers.. “Ah! Down Tear! Down I say!” Solus tried to command as he and the hound rolled over and over on the floor. Solus’ metal hands were gripping onto the beasts upper and lower jaw, doing everything in his power from keeping it snapping around his head. Eventually Solus raised his leg and pushed the hound away from him. The hound tumbled on the floor and slammed into a fighter, but quickly back jumped to its feet, while Solus was still getting up. The hound leapt forward, claws eager to fulfill its name’s purpose. It’s master before had kept it contained through sheer violence and size. Now, Solus was almost as small as it was, if just a foot bigger. Solus was weaker, and thus, no longer in charge when the shock leash was off. Solus barely rolled out of the way of the hound’s tumble. His mind flashed back to when he had fought Tear’s brother, Rip, and the rest of its pack. Back then, he was with Lord Roshan and his other warrior, and Solus had his large chassis. He was able to hold Tear down with one hand, and break leg bones just by squeezing. “This is just so stupid. So dumb! Gah!” Solus angrily shouted as he dodged another pounce. This time he was ready and leapt onto the hounds back, grabbing tightly. “Obey me Tear! You know I’m in charge.” Solus commanded to no avail. Instead Tear responded with by rolling over and pressing onto Solus with his back. Solus thanked the force that Tear hadn’t developed spines yet like his brother. Still, he was forced to let go. The two got themselves up and circled each other momentarily. Tear growled and bared its razor-sharp teeth. Solus started to lose hope. This was useless, he did not have the same strength to tame Tear. “Come on Tear, what is it? What will make you obey me again…” Tear barked in response, its glowing red eyes showing no fear nor compassion. It had no reason to listen to this fake thing. Solus tried to think more. He recalled what his master had said. A tuk'ata must have it's allegiance earnt through sheer will, by bending it's will to your own. Dominate his mind. Show him your true self, your darkness, your rage, anger and all your fears. Earning his loyalty, only then will you have a true hound of war to follow you for perhaps centuries to come. For they are not easily bought and rare to find. Let him loose from his chain, break his will on the journey to Naboo, consider this your first real test as a Sith Solus shook his newly made head in confusion. “Bend your will to my own? Isn’t that what I did before? By beating you to a pulp and breaking your legs?” Tear charged, trying to use its teeth instead of its claws this time. Solus stumbled back a bit in surprise and raised an arm up in defense. Tear grabbed the arm and, with the force of a beast, shook Solus around and threw him to the side. The Shard crashed into the wall, shocked from the sheer muscle Tear had. He had been growing since Korriban. He was just so big that Solus never really saw it. “Why won’t you listen to me?” Solus shouted, anger in his synthesized voice. Tear charged again but this time he was ready. As the beast leapt, Solus brought his arm up and struck at the thing’s throat. Solus didn’t realize how much strength he actually did have. While it was nothing compared to his previous chassis, it was still the strength of a robot. With the air knocked out, Tear collapsed onto the ground momentarily. Solus looked at his arm. The dents in it, as well as the strain in Solus’ shoulder, showed the power of Tear’s jaws. If he was an organic, it might’ve been torn off. “You damaged me!” Solus yelled. Tear was getting up. Solus was up first and jumped up and placed himself over Tear. With one hand on its head and the other on its shoulder, Solus pinned the hound with his full weight. “You DAMAGED ME!” Solus shouted, his synthesized voice blaring out slightly. Tear began to struggle, but Solus only pressed down harder. “All you had to do was listen to me. You needed to listen to me! But no! You decided to not listen at all and damge me! Cut me out of everything and leave me! Thats what you all did! Isolate me like some piece of NOTHING!” Tear stopped and looked at the being. The force was coming off of the metal being now. Waves of anger and pain were rapidly intensifying. The shard’s past was being brought forward. With its new body, Solus was more connected to the Force then ever, and the beast not only recognized it, but relished in its nourishment. Inside his chassis, as the pain came to the surface, the shard’s lines became faster and more precise. Their usual chaotic dance began to imitate a more geometric shape as its feelings became focused. “All you, and all the rest of you had to do was listen! I had visions! I saw the world of worlds! I SAW EVERYTHING! And I was right! I was! Not them! ME! ME! AND YOU ALL PUNISHED ME FOR BEING RIGHT!! WELL WHO IS RIGHT NOW!?!?!” With each sentence, Solus’ voice became more garbled and distorted as the dark side surged from the shard inside the thing’s head. With each surge, the lines got closer and closer, until finally, they were perfectly aligned. "WHO"S RIGHT NOW!!!!" Solus grabbed Tear, picked him up, and blared his scream. The shard turned a horrid black. The metallic screech was layered with dark energy from the fury inside the Shard that had been held back for centuries. . The walls shook slightly as the force, starting to be recognized by the Shard, vibrated. True, Solus would probably never be able to do this on purpose without training, but here, Tear was his prisoner and Solus could give into his rage without worry. The screech only lasted for a few seconds. Then Solus’ body collapsed. Despite being robotic, his body was drained of all power. Solus could see but was unable to move. His hound locked eyes on his fallen master who only moments ago. He was completely helpless. Nothing could save him now… Tear calmly walked up and curled himself around Solus’ body. His master had finally shown some of his true colors. His pain. His rage. This is what nourished the Tu'kata more then any kind of meal. Death was its meat. The Dark Side was its drink. And its master could provide equal measures of both. Solus chuckled a bit at this as his body temporarily powered down. It would soon power back up however, when the ship’s broke hyperspace at Naboo.
  3. Concept: (Credit goes to Peter Blight) Name: Sion Class Heavy Tactical Assault Carrier/Cruiser Type: Heavy Escort Carrier/Cruiser Class: Escort Carrier/Cruiser Length: 1000m Crew: 37,755 Passengers: 10,000 Sith Troopers Armament: 6 Starfighter Hangars 100 Acklay Heavy Assault Interceptors 50 Imperial Assault Dropships Class 1 Hyperdrive (primary) Class 15 Hyperdrive (secondary) 40 Quad Light Turbolaser Batteries 30 Twin Medium Turbolasers 30 Assault Concussion Missile Launchers *Configuration 1* or 30 Ion Cannons *Configuration 2* 10 Hull-mounted Heavy Tractor Beam Projectors Description: The second ship of large size to come out of Falleen, the Sion Class Heavy Tactical Assault Carrier/Cruiser is built specifically as a launch platform for the most part for the Acklay Heavy Assault Interceptors from the ground up. Combining the firepower of a Victory II Class Destroyer with the launch capacity of a larger carrier, this ship was built to launch a swarm of fighters and dropships upon the enemy while being able defend itself.
  4. *posted with wrong user*
  5. Vox

    Naboo

    Just as Vox was ready to show pleasantries to the supposed Queen a different tone was changed all at once. At least, she looked like royalty. Things went from two to ten, calm to tense within an instant and sudden feeling a dread greeted the Trandoshan Chieftain. And then a sense of urgency was next. When Alcmène gave Vox the orders he nodded in confirmation and then barked loudly at Romulus to come back, which, the smaller Trandoshan did urgently but clearly disappointed. Vox would have mistaken it for anything else, but somehow he got the feeling this was the last time he and Alcmène would see each other, almost like an instinct. Upon hearing the final words from his newfound and perhaps later lost master, she turned her back and left, Vox could only reply just enough for the woman to hear in Nudono, "And... the Force... With you." Now with purpose, the Chieftain turned to the Queen and states in Common Trandoshan, "You're with us then. Equinox, lead the way to a ship, Krexis cover us and Romulus you're next to me. We don't have time, so let us move with haste!"
  6. Moose

    Naboo

    Jackson turned his head up as he heard the sound of capital ships leaving hyperspace. It was a distinct experience that he had specifically gone out of his way to avoid since he left Coruscant behind him and for good reason. Every hair on his body stood on end under his exosuit from the brief flash of memory, before it was abruptly cut off and silenced. The Knight had better things to do than sit and gawk, and every moment mattered. A simple nod was all he offered before turning and running back to his ship. His cargo would need to be dumped after all, unfortunately for both him and the aspiring Trandoshan gearhead investigating its contents. There was no other way he would have the space to transport all the command personnel around, and even then it was going to be tight. Hopefully, they'd even be ready by the time he was done emptying his cargo pod. Meanwhile, inside the Transient Plunder, switches began to flick and capacitors discharged as pre-flight warmup began. The ship had been with Jackson for a good while, and though it was fueled by imminent tragedy, the Jedi Knight was almost looking forward to honing his new understanding in the conflict ahead. He had already been assisting his flight with the force before, but he had a better idea of just how to take advantage of it now. Even if his glimpse into the inner workings of Alcmène's energy shield had been too brief for his liking. Hidden thrusters and lamps ignited as the old Wayfarer's owner approached, giving anyone aboard or nearby just enough time to evacuate before lifting ponderously off of its landing platform. The knight charged ahead heedless of the flaring engines and leaped high into the bay. His mag boots locked him down against the cold metal floor and the entire ship began to tilt and list to one side, quickly beginning to eject its cargo through the larger, newly-opened hangar doors on the side of the rectangular pod. He wouldn't be needing the platform again and there were few other places for it, unfortunately, though a few of his real gems were kept safe inside of his repurposed smuggling compartment. The ship was quick to move into action after that; scooping up as many of the local command and support staff as it could possibly hold, sometimes almost literally, as it broadcast a short burst of instructions to the pilots Jackson had been put in charge of evacuating. They were going to need to stick close and keep their eyes open because he was going to lead them through the battle as quickly and as close to the ground as they could manage. Naboo was a wonderful planet, but by the end of everything, he was going to scorch their escape through its hills and valleys. He could help disguise them to a point, with the force and creative use of the planet and its sun, but if they didn't move quickly then there would be no escaping the invasion. Not as it crashed into and burned through the very earth they stood on.
  7. Johanna Bryce

    Naboo

    The next several minutes felt like hours. As Johanna paced the edge of the lake, splashing the cool waters against her ankles, the Rebel marine reflected that perhaps the reputation that the Gungans had for perpetual tardiness was perhaps warranted. In her experience, there was never a moment that she could afford to lose. And yet, the amphibians also had a reputation for being The next fifteen minutes felt like an hour. As Bryce paced the edge of the lake and waded into the cool waters up to her ankles, the Rebel marine reflected that perhaps the reputation that the Gungans had for perpetual tardiness was somewhat warranted. In her experience in the armed forced, there was never a moment that she could afford to waste. And yet, the amphibians also enjoyed a reputation as unlooked-for allies: their society existed separately from the Human Naboo and had a somewhat isolationist perspective… yet they had sacrificed entire legions of warriors in times of crisis. Rather than being allowed to dwell on this wasted time, the Talon’s comlink buzzed on her bracer. It was a direct line from Admiral Klatchka, who hovered above her armor as a miniature Mon Calamari. “Captain, major Sith fleet units have emerged from hyperspace. Naboo is under invasion. We can’t hold these forces back. We must withdraw.” Bryce grimaced. “Sir, and my soldiers?” “You’ll have to make do on the surface. I’m sorry, Captain. May the For--” And that was the end of the transmission--terminated midsentence, doubtless to enforce comms discipline as all outgoing transmissions needed to be kept at a minimum as the ships “went dark”. Johanna suspected that the fleet units were withdrawing to the planet’s star--probably making use of solar flares or other phenomena to mask their presence--but that meant that she and her two hundred Talons were going to be cut off from evacuation and stranded in hostile territory. She exchanged a glance with Alpha’s platoon sergeant, a Chiss whose expression remained impassive. At least, Bryce hadn’t yet learned out to read Drell’s facial expression… but if his thoughts were mirroring her own, then he also knew that all two hundred of them were likely to be dead at the end of the day. A bubbling cauldron of lake water stirred Bryce from her distraction. A loose-limbed Gungan came swaggering up from the opaque water, clad in dripping leathers and a bearing an unusual, staff-like weapon with a hollow at its end. “Capitan Bryce, Bombad General Yuusan. Weesa welcome you to Naboo.” “General, sir.” The marine saluted; the Gungan held his weapon-bearing hand to his breast. “I’m afraid that our timetable has just been moved up significantly. Our ships have detected major Sith fleet elements--enough that they need to withdraw. The planet is under invasion.” Supposedly the Gungans also had a reputation for advertising their every emotion on their face, of gawping wide-eyed, of frothing at the mouth, bashing spear against shield, and spitting defiance at their enemies; this one’s expression may as well have been carved from wroshyr. The Gungan warrior just blinked, nodded, and intoned slowly, “And whatsa yousa being doing about dis?” “Well, sir… it occurs to me that this invasion is not likely to stop with Theed or the other Naboo cities. This Sith Empire has not exactly shied from executing genocides against species that have opposed it in the past. The reports of what they are doing on Mon Calamari are… frightening. A similar scenario is likely to occur here. However, my men are not a garrison or a Cresh-Besh unit.I propose that we join our forces to launch an immediate counterattack.” Feeling her spine attempting to melt away under the unyielding stare of the Gungan General, Bryce forced herself to rise to military-spec height and straighten her shoulders. “Talons strike, sir. ” Now the Gungan reputation for being emotive was redeemed. Obviously amused by this display of esprit de corps, the fat Gungan erupted into massive, booming laughter--and continued laughing even Bryce’s jaw tightened and her expression grew serious. “Oh! Hohoho! Weesa like dees one! Ohoho!” The Gungan slapped his knee out of amusement. “Yes, yes, okie-day. Yousa want to keel and die, weesa happy to help. Longo comprends da thrrreat ahf da Seeth. Weesa--weesa long sheds mui blood to them.” Still chuckling, the Gungan began wading into the waters, which began boiling with the hulls of dozens of clamshell-shaped transports. “Pleasa! Comen Capitan! Comen! And yousa warriors! Weesa provide transport! And when da time comen, weesa fights and dies with you. But for now, yousa shares yous plans. Oh-hoh! Disa be hot.” Glancing at the formation of shock troopers behind her, Bryce just shrugged and signaled her men forward to the Gungan transports. In a few minutes, they were all under the waters, cold, sopping wet, abandoned… and determined to make this a long and miserable day for the Sith Empire.
  8. As the adults talked, Noto found himself sitting near Genesis, studying carefully. At the words of Coruscant, Noto couldn’t help but speak up, albeit softly. “Is that where you lost your eye...erm, sorry, I mean, uh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt” Noto then became quiet again and studied the other adult as the two continued. He had to think for a while. The face and voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Perhaps he was a famous soldier? No, that didn’t seem right. Noto remembered how the Krevaaki species pointed out that you knew a soldier by sight by looking at their side or their clothes on their back. Noto noted the pistol, but he had seen so many pistols on passing travelers that he figured everyone carried one. But the clothes were decent. Not too fancy, but still nicely dressed. Noto rubbed his free tentacles together, thinking. “Ah! You’re Senetor Godfrey! Hero of the battle of Death Star III!” Noto placed a tentacle over where his mouth was hidden after his outburst. “Sorry again, I just couldn’t place your voice, until I remembered your talk about the Jedi actions on Carida. You were in a couple of my datapad readings about the state of the Jedi back home and... and um...sorry again, I’ll shut up now.” With that Noto backed up and tried again to remain quiet as the adults talked. He had no idea about wars or battles, except what he had read. Truth be told, those were his favorite parts, but only for the heroics that occurred. Still, the stuff about Godfrey were a thrilling good read.
  9. Just before entering one of the new capital ships, Akheron turned briefly to face the Shard, Solus. His Wrath flared upon seeing how he treated the tu'kata. Such a beast was sacred in his eyes, just like him and the Shard it was symbiotic with the Darkness and as such touched by the Fanged God. So should be respected and not treated like a beaten hound. He made his displeasure known, briefly gripping his new apprentice, before unceremoniously dropping him. "Do not treat such a magnificent creature with such anger, like he was a common pet. A tuk'ata is no normal hound, they are held sacred by any who would call themselves a real Sith. The tuk'ata are are symbiotic, bound with the Darkness like myself and as such touched by the Fanged God, like you or I. A tuk'ata must be brought to heel not by beating them like a bantha. A tuk'ata must have it's allegiance earnt through sheer will, by bending it's will to your own. Dominate his mind. Show him your true self, your darkness, your rage, anger and all your fears. Earning his loyalty, only then will you have a true hound of war to follow you for perhaps centuries to come. For they are not easily bought and rare to find. Let him loose from his chain, break his will on the journey to Naboo, consider this your first real test as a Sith". With that he continued up the ramp, leaving his apprentice to consider his next actions on the way to Naboo.
  10. Yesterday
  11. Solus

    Falleen

    As the Sorcerers performed their work, Solus’ shard could feel the energies around them. The force, as profane and dark as it was, resonated with Solus’s shard. The lines inside the crystal would reach out to the edges as if to try to touch that unseen energy of life. But Solus also watched. In his old chassis, lumbering over the little beings that worked, Solus observed each piece of metal that was smelted, forged, and shaped. Each piece started out rough, and worn down. Scraps from security droids, weapons, and vehicles, long past any use without repair. But with only the tools of their magic and a few pieces of technology, the sorcerers’ spun cords of wire together, welded plates to each other, and forced screws into holes without delicacy. “It is rather...small...isn’t it? Could it be bigger?” Solus started to complain. One of the Sorcerers, a human whose mouth was stitched shut, glared at the robotic being, earning Solus’ silence. However, Solus continued to worry. The chassis...it was so small! True, he was used to having a towering figure, but even this thing was small by the organics standards. Solus guessed it was only four feet tall as best. And its limbs! So thin! How in the force would Solus kill anyone with such thin limbs? True, the chassis had two attractions to it. It shined for one. The Sorcerers were not conservatives in giving the thing a flaxen tinge to all of its plates, and the runes they carved into the metal were filled with a golden trim. Around its neck was bound a collar of pure gold. "The Golden Slave indeed!" The other feature Solus liked was its face, or lack-there-of. Its facial plate was perfectly smooth, with it all being a series of sensors involving sight, sound, and heat. However, before Solus could study the face further, it opened up, revealing an open cavity. Stitch-mouth, the human, turned to Solus. Without a word, he walked forward and tapped Solus’ chest plate. Tear did not try to even stop him, sensing the dark side energies in this area. Solus was shocked, as without his effort, his body opened up. Like two dead hands revealing their prize, so did Solus’ chest open up to show the Shard’s place. “wha...wait...I…” Solus stuttered, unable to move his body whatsoever. Solus' last sight in his old chassis was Stitch-mouth, unceremoniously, reaching in and tearing the Shard out without care. Pain flooded Solus as each sense was ripped away from him. Banished back into the world of dark silence, Solus began to scream. To the Sorcerers and any others around, they would sense the dark side vibrating violently from the small crystal. However, the scream stopped just as quickly as it started. Solus could see! Not with sight, but he could see! The impossible geometrics, the indescribable colors, the unutterable sounds! The screams of violence, the tastes of fire, the shapes of fear and hatred! The Force, as he had seen it on Korriban under Lady Sirena's guidance. Was that Tear, that collection of hungers, wailings, and reds? Those things over there, were they the sorcerers? Impossible… but then, what were they? And at the center of everything, Solus saw something. And Solus felt deep in his shard, that it saw him. Fanged God, bless me! Solus tried to scream out to the thing And for a moment, Solus could've sworn that it smiled. Then it was done. A rush of electricity shot towards the shard, connecting the tiny crystal with the body. "Rise, Solus The Golden Slave. Come observe the might we shall unleash upon our enemies, while you slept...Falleen progressed. I have received word from one of Darth Mavanger's associates, we are to proceed to Naboo, with what forces we can muster...there we will send a message to our enemies not soon forgotten. Your training it seems is to most unexpectedly intensified. Perhaps this a good thing, use this opportunity to prove to me you are worthy of the training you shall receive. The sensors came on first. Solus became dizzy for a moment. Not only was he seeing forward, his entire head could see in every direction. No longer he looked in one direction, but in all 360 degrees. First Solus raised one hand, to gaze at it. It was smooth and light, nothing like his old body at all. And so small! Still, his master had given an order. Feeling out his entire body, Solus commanded the legs to move. First the left, then the right. The hands helped propped him to the table’s edge. Such a new feeling, since Solus had been slithering his life in this world! “You shall come with me to the surface and deliver vengeance and wrath upon all in our path. Our orders are to not hold back, so feel free to unleash your rage and feed the tu'kata as much as he likes. None must survive.`` Solus attempted to stand up. Not used to his new body’s response time, Solus practically flung himself forward onto the ground. Embarrassed, Solus slowly picked himself up, and took a few steps, testing out his new balance. Then he laughed. “Hahaha! What feeling! What experience! To have legs! Master, what a feeling this is to…” Solus stopped and turned sharply to face Akheron. He nearly fell over again, but it was clear he was adapting quickly. With a few steps, Solus raised a foot and spun slightly, kicking the air. Despite his frontward side facing away from his Master, Solus spoke as if he was facing him. “Master! I will kill! Yes, by my Shard, I will kill and all will fall! Haha! Though I say this chassis is small, I will kill!” Tear barked and growled at the new robotic being. Solus, while it didn’t even seem like he looked at his hound (since his head didn’t even turn), turned his attention. “Tear! Enough! Silence before our master! Yes, silence you dumb thing!” At this, Solus raised a hand to smack the dog. Despite being so much smaller then before, Solus was able to make Tear instantly quiet. When the hand lowered, there was a slight growl in its throat, but it was obvious the dog recognized the shard in the new chassis. As the rest of the sorcerers left, Stitch-mouth came up behind Solus and placed some robes around the shard’s body, stitched with a few runes of the order. With that, he left the three beings to tend to other tasks. “Master, I will prove my worth! Despite this small chassis, I will kill all! Yes! So I swear, haha!” And with that, Solus grabbed the leash that held Tear and followed his new master, excited to earn his Master’s approval, as well as the Fanged God.
  12. The stubbled angular face of the Jensaarai warrior was pierced by his intense green-eyed gaze as he tucked his duel lightsaber hilts up his sleeves. Although his armor was built to carry an array of weaponry, he was not going to give up his preferred weapon, in or out of uniform. Even if to use them might invite questioning looks from any onlookers. He was an agent of his people, an associate of the rebellion, and an undercover operative. Rarely did he work so hand in hand with fellow rebels. He did not even know who exactly they were looking for per se, and now he was toting along a group of clones as well! Finding his companions, he nodded a solemn greeting. “Not sure what to tell you boys ‘ccept this ain’t the Republic. Rules of engagement are loose here. We are descending into the criminal belly of the beast. Keep your wits about you and for goodness sake don’t walk in formation. We are pirates and grizzled ner-do-wells afterall.” Setting out into the seedy undercurrent of the city, the rebel agent paid enough money to ensure that the ship’s presence was kept quiet, but not enough to elicit more than an eyebrow raise. Even here, the emblem of the Sith Empire carried some sense of power and authority. Emblazoned in his grimy coveralls, Inmorots carried a sense of that authority with him as the group set out into the city at the edges of dusk and dawn. It did not take more than 20 minutes of walking to reach the a dingy speeder rental agency. It looked like it had seen better days and clientele were decidedly ‘cash only’. Nestled down what could generously be described as an alley, with refuse and a vagrant lying all about the edges, the group gingerly picked their way forward. With an air of calm, the Jensaarai Defender moved as if he had not a care in the world. Stepping inside, the group found themselves standing in, of all things, a line. Behind a red-skinned devil and an royal ice blue Chiss, the Corellian blinked refocusing his sudden confusion away. One of these very well was their contact. He did not know which, if either and did not wish to risk giving away anything by looking out of sorts. The Mantis had no intention of renting a speeder for himself or his newfound clones companions. Fishing the starter chits and associated personalized bling attached to it from his pocket, he swirled it through the air about his finger, allowing it to jangle noisily against itself, drawing an disdainful glance from the clerk who was working with one of the others. It was enough to draw attention and with his Sithly getup on, a plan in place, and a signal word yet to be utter, enough, he hoped, to make contact with whichever rebels were expecting his stolen vessel.
  13. Akheron lead the way, even as troops moved around them. Slowly but surely everything was falling into place as over next days defences were put in places. Vast trents were built around the city, dug into the ground and bunkers erected as the city became a fortress of sorts. The outer edges were mined and other areas had a half hour patrol, each reporting in on time. Orbital defences followed soon after. New ships of varying size and armament patrolled the Falleen skyline, both inside and outside the atmosphere. Troops were training children, indoctrinating and making them warriors using the most brutal of methods. Darth Akheron's plan was coming together. Meanwhile he awaited as Solus body was constructed, using ancient arcane Sith techniques. The sorcerers of Clan Brasganu profane chants filling the air and riding the air as runes were imprinted upon the armour at various points. Soon it was ready, shimmering a golden bronze in the sun. Souls was ripped from his old chassis via the dark ritual and soon found himself in a new body...as his rebirth begun.I Speaking, Akheron bid he rise. "Rise, Solus The Golden Slave. Come observe the might we shall unleash upon our enemies, while you slept...Falleen progressed. I have received word from one of Darth Mavanger's associates, we are to proceed to Naboo, with what forces we can muster...there we will send a message to our enemies not soon forgotten. Your training it seems is to most unexpectedly intensified. Perhaps this a good thing, use this opportunity to prove to me you are worthy of the training you shall receive. You shall come with me to the surface and deliver vengeance and wrath upon all in our path. Our orders are to not hold back, so feel free to unleash your rage and feed the tu'kata as much as he likes. None must survive." He motioned at the new Aklay Class Heavy Interceptors, one of many such achievements thus far accomplished upon Falleen. A new bred of interceptor that would soon replace raging TIE series. The Outer Rim would provide the perfect testing field. Akheron smiled under his mask at the prospects.
  14. Concept: (Credit goes to RobotForge on Patreon) Name: Exodus Class Star Destroyer Type: Capital Ship Class: Star Destroyer Length: 1600m Crew: 36,755 Gunners: 330 Passengers: 9,700 Troops Armament: 40 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries 40 Heavy Turbolaser Cannons 26 Additional Turbolaser Batteries 20 Heavy Ion Cannons 8 Octuple Barbette Turbolasers or Configuration 2 consisting of 8 Ion Cannons 10 Phylon Q7 Tractor Beam Projectors Hyperdrive Class 1 or 2.0 Class 8.0 (backup 2 KDY ISD-72x deflector shield generator domes (local area-effect) 2 KDY ISD-72x shield generator domes LeGrange targeting computers Complement: 72 Acklay Heavy Assault Interceptor Starfighters 8 Lambda-Class Shuttles 15 Sith Imperial Stormtrooper Transports 6 Assault Gunboats A variable number of Blastboats 1 or more Sith Imperial Assault Dropships 2 Repair and recovery vehicles 15 AT-AT Barges 20 AT-AT Walkers 30 AT-ST Walkers Various Ground Vehicles 2 Prefabricated Garrison Bases Description: The first capital ship to come out of Falleen for years, the Exodus Class Star Destroyer is a modern feat of engineering and firepower and one of a new generation star destroyer to come out of the Outer Rim. Designed and built to honour the legacy of the previous Dark Lord Exodus, this star destroyer fills the gap between the Imperial 1 and the Imperial 2 Class of destroyer and thanks to a more streamlined power assembly has a 30% power output allowing for a slightly more manoeuvrable and faster ship while not sacrificing firepower.
  15. The Prelast changed then, and the darkness in the vault seemed to rush in and concentrate about the Warpriest like vapor condensing on a cool glass of Padberen Lager. The Mandalorians turned as one, staring at their former friend as the man’s stature and expression changed visibly. Terra’s shout was tinged with both desperation and fury, “Back and away, the way we came!” Her men began to obey her barked command, but a voice came then, one that was clearly not of her former Warpriest. The Hades Combat AI painted They’qell with a signature of crimson on the HUD, transmitting it as a high priority target. Terra’s darkmetal teeth grated together, showering sparks upon her scarred tongue. The Sithling was talking, but making little sense. The Mandalorian slipped Shadowlord’s lightsaber back onto her belt, dragging her duel Flechette pistols from their holsters. So the Alcazerins yet lived. That order had faded from galactic memory after the purge of the Scorpions under Lord Ar-Pharazon. The Mandalorian had been there, in thick of battle against that order, slaughtering her way across Chandrilla and Almas. She forced a laugh across her burning tongue, her gravelly voice stained with a mocking resolution. “Who do you think slew Hephaestus? Who bathed in the rotten blood of Nurgle? Who devoured the Archserpent?” She smelled him and tasted him then, that scent of Mystwheler Lavash and stale wine. Why was she thinking of him now? Vothe Kyrik, the man whom she had run to after the dissolution of her bond to the Sith. The taste of his lips lingered for a moment before being torn away in a rush of foreign emotions. Death and torture. The Mandalorian winced within her buy’ce, stumbling backwards, gasping a breath of the stale air. The emotions were too raw and had all the subtlety of a Wookiee swinging a hammer. She had experienced something similar before, a glimmer of memories long silenced by torture. Ar-Pharazon and Antilles had used a power of a similar vein while dominating her mind. She had been broken by insanity far too often. Terra breathed out, hissing between her teeth, a sound of snarling hatred. She pushed the memories down, burning them within her hate and malice. As she tarnished the memories of Vothe with hate, they began to fade, to be locked away with all the rest of herself that she hated. Her HUD camera display showed that Hans, Sheol, and Anders had stopped outside the vault with their head in their hands. Only the two Chiss stood resolute against the Sith’s mental onslaught, and they dragged their comrades to safety besides the door. Chyphosis provided a covering-fire arc from the vault’s broken doorway as his sister tended to those affected by the Sith’s mental weapon. Hades bounded down the hallway, coming ever nearer, the rasping of beskar on stone echoing down the hallway. The Sith’s twin blades flashed into life and Terra felt a burning lance across the flesh of her side as she twisted away. The Darkmetal had caught most of the blow, but the lightsaber had burnt the skin and nearly touched the muscle. Pain raced through her nervous system, speeding up her heartrate. She continued to backpedal, her eyes darting across her HUD. Vothe’s sardonic voice chided her “You let him get too close.” …No shit. Got to keep range. With a blink, Terra ignited her jetpack in a quick burst as she leapt away from the Sith, angling her arc towards the yawning vault door. She brought up the two pistols, bringing in the trigger-slack as she followed the targeting reticle on her HUD. She found the crimson target easily, painted as it was with crimson light, and finished the smooth pull of the triggers, feeling them snap crisply. She fired twice with each pistol as she propelled backwards, spinning a web of both armor piercing and explosive tipped flechettes to ensnare and destroy the Sith. Chyphosis Her’kerik, fired his T-21 Light Repeating Rifle towards his former warpriest, with teeth gritted in anger. He had watched the death of his children, again, at the hands of those that called themselves Peacekeepers, and it had stirred his rage. He had grown up alongside They’qell in the ranks of the Crusaders, but he could not allow the man to continue to live as a possessed demon. A stream of crimson bolts leapt from his rifle to speed towards the Sith who had formally been his friend. ((1)) Terra and the majority of her squad affected temporarily by Sith Insanity. Damage taken from lightsaber swing. Terra retreats and fires flechettes at Oni, alongside blaster fire from one of her squadmates.
  16. Zendrin

    Naboo

    Kahla stood with her chin high on the bridge of the cruiser. watching carefully as they dropped out of hyperspace. Her flesh still burned from the weeks of practice with her droid, though thankfully thus far Vance hadn't managed to kill her. They were only slightly behind Darth Mavanger's war party, trickling in just in time to see the swarm of fighters and dropships make for planetside. A sight troubled her mind, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, long she stared into the massed fleet, studying it. Then, with a wave of understanding, she counted only one Harrower, the Phantom's Spear. Her heart skipped a beat, though she suppressed her outward response to little more than a hard swallow. "Roll out the guns, Burn everything, save for Theed itself." Her stern voice bounced, devoid of empathy. "Prioritize civilian infrastructure." The captain's eyes widened in shock, bad enough already he had to lead such a horrible ship, but this? He hesitated, his mind racing as a bead of cold sweat dripped down the side of his face. He couldn't help but fixate, putting himself in the shoes of these people. The days they've lived and loved, worked and celebrated, he thought back to home, where his younger brother was studying to be a doctor. Where his mother lived her twilight years at home, tending her garden. He froze as Kahla turned to face him, unable to look away, unable to hide the fear in his soul. How long had he hesitated? Seconds? Minutes? Surely there was no turning back now. With all the courage he could muster, his voice cracked out "T- To what end, my lady? They are of no threat to our empire." Kahla locked eyes with the man, her expression unchanging though her head tilted ever so slightly. "Anger makes our enemy reckless, they make mistakes when fury takes hold of their actions. There is no more efficient a method to anger our enemies than to put the innocent in danger." She spoke matter of factly, her voice came so steady in contrast to the shakiness of the captain. "Then there are other options." He proposed. "No. What we do today is reprimand for opposing us so openly on this campaign. As Darth Mavanger has made abundantly clear, this scum should step aside, lest they be trampled under our march." She started to stalk towards the taller captain who fearfully stepped back. "I will not allow such unforgivable, indiscriminate murder of innocent lives!" His voice raised to a shout as he found a foothold to stand his ground. The thoughts of families being so mercilessly torn to pieces. Kahla smiled as she watched his bravery overcome his fear. It was impressive to her, to see someone so devote as to stand against her order. "I respect your decision, Francis, and admire your courage. Thankfully, Captain Numa will carry out my order." His eyes widened as he gasped frantically for air, the thoom of the igniting lightsaber reverberated through the open space of the bridge. At first he didn't feel the burning, but the stench of burning flesh drew his attention the the blade in his stomach. Kahla drew her saber away before quickly stabbing up through his chin. Vera stood, confused at first by her name being preceded with the title of captain, and in an instant she understood. Like a beam of lightning the saber's stabs came, the crimson blaze flashing for only a second before dispelling. His body fell limp to the ground with a tump. The seared flesh smoldered as Kahla turned to the newly appointed captain. "The hospitals will be first, captain." Her voice was so cold, his life meant nothing to the Sith, and his death had no weight on her mind. Vera nodded in affirmation before taking the captain's chair. The smell was revolting, nauseating to the young woman. The infirmary crew came to retrieve the body shortly after Kahla left for the hangar where her Fury Interceptor was waiting, fueled and armed. A chill ran down her spine, the same chill she'd had every time she'd taken the helm. With antipathy she pushed the throttle forward, hatred brewing inside her as she made way for the surface.
  17. As soon as he asked his question, he received his answer... Loosely enough. His gaze shifted to the arrival of the Imperial Knight, her outfit and armor unmistakable and resembling the girl he met after his last loss at the hands of the Sith, Sandy. He grimaced beneath his blatant stare, knowing full well what this meant. If there was a Imperial Knight here in his room, it was back to the front lines. Rising, he took the first datapad. "You don't need to bow, child. Formalities are for the echelon, not us linemen." He spoke with a forced jest. The Imperial Knights had been adamant friends to him since he joined the Rebellion, and he considered them the most trustworthy of the Mystic Orders. "Thank you. I will do my best." With that, he began gathering his gear, Leeroy remaining at his side. From his peripheral, he could see the worry in his subordinate's eyes. He sighed. "Don't worry. I may have lost again, but it was of my own fault this time. It won't happen again." "We worry because we care, Colonel." Jibbs spoke freely, his gaze trying to catch that of Mythos' own as he gathered his gear. "They say you went feral on the battlefield, lost all sense of yourself. First Ghosts, now Hatred. You may be letting things become too personal....." The echo of Mythos slamming his fist into the locker reverberated throughout the ward as he turned to Leeroy. "It is personal. Thousands of dead lay at their feet and they use them against us like weapons." "I understand Colonel." Jibb's voice became almost pleading, his hands begging to Mythos. "But do we not do the same? Send countless soldiers to their deaths in the name of freedom and the preservation of liberty? Mythos' gaze turned cold in disbelief, a stern cold that sent chills down even his own spine. What had just left the lips of Jibbs was almost too cruel to bare. He wanted to strike the man for even thinking it. But he shook his head instead, calming his composure and his riled hair. "A life is a life. And this will be the last of it that I will hear. Am I clear soldier?" Yes Colonel." Jibbs replied with a clap of the heels and a firm salute, the evidence of his failure to reach the Colonel written on his face as he left the room. Soon, Mythos geared up as well, left the ward behind. As Mythos gathered with the 432nd Regiment out of Chandrila and boarded their transport, he sat in solace and thought upon the words Jibbs dare spoke in his presence. With a sigh he leaned back and closed his eyes for the journey ahead. "It won't happen again, Jibbs. I won't be careless again."
  18. Mavanger

    Naboo

    Mordecai's shuttle tore through the atmosphere, his anger corrupting and warping the very world around him. It was cataclysmic- The Naboo were in cohorts with the rebel, as he had suspected. As such, they would be punished. His shuttle rocked as the palace's anti air landed a powerful hit to the wing, and he felt the ship groan and screech as the damaged wing tore away. The dropship lurched violently, going into a spin as he braced himself. It impacted outside of the main entrance, tearing up concrete and the earth below it as it skid to a halt. Inside, Mordecai climbed to his feet. His armor had absorbed the impact, but the pilot was dead. No matter. He stepped out of the transport to a city on fire- a few over-ambitious bombers had already begun to strafe the city. No matter. His presence was known. He climbed the steps to the entrance of the palace as guards raised their weapons to stop him. It was over quickly. Four guards had come to meet him. As he leapt forward, fed by the unending pool of rage and sorrow in his heart, he drove his sabers into the man's chest. The next in line was a young woman, who held her fire in fear of hitting her comrade. It was her death. He lunged for her, severing her head and letting his momentum carry him into the next. He drove his fist into the man's chest, the Force-enhanced blow shattering ribs as the man went down. The final guard tried to run, but it didn't save him. Mordecai pounced on him like a Nexu, leaving two scorched slashes in the coward's back as he, too, fell dead. Four laid dead around him, but it wasn't enough. His pain, and his grief, and his anger were still there. He had not yet acquired his vengeance. As he entered the palace, more guards tried to stop him, and more guards were cut down like the insignificant traitors they were, and he was drawn to a presence of light, one that he recognized. An Imperial Knight. She was waiting, intending to stop him, he was sure. A traitor like the rest, she would fall. He let out a furious cry as he cut down another guard, his rage apparent to all around him, his presence a roiling wound of Dark Side energy. Whatever shreds of good had been left in Mordecai were being burnt away in the fires of his rage. He had always held onto his notions of honor, even in his darkest moments... but now, he willfully gave it all for the chance to soothe the ache in his chest with the blood of his foes. Whether the guards surrendered, hid, ran or fought, they were cut down if they got in his path, without a doubt relaying to those in command of his destruction.
  19. Alcmène

    Naboo

    It was just like the holofilms she had binge watched when she was a kid. They had all clustered around the large screen projector in the second tower of the castle and had watched them as a family. Hell if it had not been for those holofilms, she would not have pursued her latent abilities off world and to the Jedi Order. And now those holofilm villains were appearing in the upper atmosphere above Theed. They had been too late. Her mind flew into a frenzy as she considered a hundred possibilities and then settled on one. “Jackson. Evacuate leadership on your vessel. Lead as many of the royal guard starfighters out of here. They cannot fight the Sith face on and they should come with you. There are uhhh….” Her mind raced for a moment before settling again. “Six fighter squadrons, get as many as you can. But do not delay. Do not fly into the blockade.” She Looked to the queen then to her apprentice. “Vox, you and you men escort the Queen to safety. Do not wait for me.” For a moment she knew that she might not ever see any of them again, but then her brain settled and the doubt fell away. The Force would have its will. “And both of you. Stay safe and may the Force be with you.” She deliberately turned her back on both of them and walked towards the entrance of the palace. Fate would find her there. She pulled the prayer beads from her belt and said a quick prayer as she walked. She would do Outremer proud.
  20. The young imperial knights eyebrows raised as she walked through the door into Mythos’s room. She held a datapad and gave a slight if formal bow to the wolf like officer. She extended a datapad with another bow. “I know it is likely too early in your recovery but you are being called into active duty again. Deep space scouts say a Sith Empire fleet is heading to the world of Naboo. And we need you there asap.” She turned and handed him another datapad. “You have been assigned to the 432nd Militia. Refugees from Chandrila. Treat them well.”
  21. Mythos' gaze shot open with a muzzled snarl, his heightened vitals alerting the medics of his awakening as he fought against the entangling wires that encompassed his form. Inmortos was all the ate at his mind, his thoughts, as the feral beast attempted to claw himself out of the bacta tank, his feral form scaring some of those around him into quick action as sedatives were quickly administered. Clawing at the mask that covered his snout was the last thing he remembered before going back into the sedated state he had awoken from. When he awoke the second time, his head throbbed with pain as he gazed around him, his hand attempting to reach his scarred scalp only to find themselves bound and restrained. He lifted his head in temper, his voice growling as he questioned the meaning of this. "You're no longer on Mon Cal, Colonel. We were barely able to drag you out alive, and only after the Sith Magic was dealt with." A familiar voice calmly speaking as the matching face of Leeroy stepped into view. "Honestly, if you didn't have your regenerative capabilities, you would have been lost for sure." "I see. Mythos responded in a more controlled tone, his vitals returning to a somewhat less irritated state. "And Mon Cal?" "A success..." Leeroy spoke with pride that quickly followed with an unspoken regret. "But we lost most of our men. I'm in the middle of training new recruits. Mythos fists balled up as his blood boiled, his gaze still reveling in a feral state, but his mind conscious. Inmortos, that Sith Magician, had done the damaged he wantingly caused. And he was powerless against it. Tears began to leak from his ducts, yet his face remained unchanged. He had failed yet again to protect those under his charge. He was beginning to doubt his own leadership when Leeroy grabbed his restrained hand. "We were all left unsuspecting. No one could have called that unless they were Jedi. Don't blame yourself Colonel." "Inform the families and ensure they will taken care of. I don't care if it breaks this rebellion. Their lives should not go unjustified." Mythos spoke as Leeroy released his bonds and allowed him to sit up, his balance off due to the loss of hearing. After Leeroy caught the Colonel and steadied him, he stepped back with a honorable salute. Any word on where the Sith retreated?
  22. Last week
  23. Concept: (Credit goes to Valerie Erzahlerin from Artstation) Name: Acklay Class Interceptor Type: Heavy Assault Interceptor Class: Heavy Interceptor/Bomber Length: 11.45 metres Crew: 1 Armament: 2 Heavy Precision Laser Cannons 2 Light Rapid Fire Dual-Link cannons 1 Torpedo/Missile Tube Hyperdrive Light Shields Alternative Armanent: 2 Heavy Precision Laser Cannons 1 Torpedo/Missile Tube 2 Under Wing Bomber Tubes Heavy Shields Description: Just like many other such ships to come out of the Sith Empire of late, this starfighter is also a first. Built as a successor to the aging TIE fighter interceptor class of starfighters it was conceived as a compliment to many of the new capital ships and their escorts in the Outer Rim. With the Sith there field testing the first prototypes. This particular starfighter was first conceived and built upon Falleen after it's subsequent takeover. Inspired by ancient Sith designs, it combines the look of the TIE and Fury Class of starfighters into one intimidating new design. The ship sports a hyperdrive and light shields but makes up for it's lack of defences in sheer offensive capability, very much in keeping with the Sith philosophy. Named after the armoured and agile Acklay beast, the Acklay Class Heavy Interceptor is not a threat to be taken lightly. On the wing tips are featured two heavy precision laser cannons, backed up by two under cockpit rapid fire dual-linked cannons and one torpedo or missile tube for Configuration 1. Configuration 2 features in place of a hyperdrive and the two rapid fire cannons, features instead heavy shields and two additional bomb tubes under the wings.
  24. Mavanger

    Naboo

    First it was only one ship- A lone capital, a new presence on the battlefield, the first Abaddon-class Star Destroyer to roll off of Geonosis's shipyard. Its lone silhouette hung menacingly above the atmosphere of Naboo, a quiet harbinger of the battle to come. Over the next few minutes, it was joined by an array of other ships. The Sith Fleet hung overhead, and any rebel that had faced it before would know that this was Darth Mavanger's warparty. But what followed was not the opportunity for parley that he had extended in the past. There was no call for surrender, no warning against rebellion. For Mordecai, who stood on the fresh bridge of the new Star Destroyer which was affectionately called the Raven's Bane by the crew, this was not an annexation. This was a message. The rebels had taken someone precious to him. Before, with Lord Xahl's death, he had settled for his conquest of the Outer Rim, to bring the wilds of the galaxy under the Sith Empire, as had been their shared dream. Now, he would send a message. They had taken someone he loved, and for it, they would die. What few ships were in orbit that didn't land on the planet or leave the system were quickly annihilated, whether it be civilian or otherwise as fighters swarmed from the rest of the fleet. A new Captain, one who's name he hadn't learned yet, asked him for orders. Mordecai sneered, staring down at the world below with spite in his heart, and his fury bubbled forth once more. "Burn it to ash." Before long, hundreds of Sith transports launched, and Mordecai followed suit. They had their own orders, relayed to them by the current commander of his ground forces, but Mordecai had a special plan in mind. His transport beelined straight for Theed Palace, home of Naboo's royal family. They would not escape. He had received word that there was a new Dark Lord, one he had heard of during his days amongst those of the Sith Academy, and that he had received a message from her. He was not interested in bending the knee to a new Dark Lord- His priority now erased all others. Every rebel on this world would die, and he would do so on as many worlds as it took to avenged his love.
  25. Before Mordecai could respond, the command center lit up with incoming communications, calls and reports streaming in through most of the consoles. As they did, Mordecai felt a shift in the Force, something precious being snuffed out. Dread filled his heart, his vision tunneled on the map, and as if in slow motion, he turned as an officer swiftly approached, a datapad in hand. "My lord, we've been contacted by our forces at Mon Cal. They've pulled out. The Krayt's Fury was lost- Captain Jarvus stayed behind to co-ordinate the retreat. No word if he made it out or not." Mordecai went numb. So that had been it. He didn't need a report to tell him that Jarvus was no longer amongst the living. Mordecai leaned forward onto the table in the command center, the glass flexing under the pressure. His breathing deepened. His rage, always concealed behind a veneer of sophistication amongst his troops, began to show. His face contorted with loss, and the glass under his armored hands began to spiderweb out, disrupting the projection that filled the room. His sorrow and grief were gasoline to the raging fire of his fury, and he struggled to contain it now. His limbs shook, his face a dark reflection of the calm he often showcased. In a shower of glass and sparks, his fist burst through the holotable, briefly darkening the room. A tense silence hung in the air before he spoke. "Relay my orders. Plot an immediate course for Naboo- returning forces from Falleen and Mon Cal are to rendevous with us there."
  26. "I would not call those savages "my men", they were agents of another's design, whose chapter in history has come to a close. Your own hounds are doing me a favor by cleansing them. The Spider thought that he could rule the galaxy through a quiet fear, just as your own people believe that hope can create a gentle kingdom encircled by spears. Or should I say Empire, your rebellion is led by an empress is it not? An empress whose throne world is known to the Empire and yet has somehow against all belief escaped reprisal from a Dark Lord known for making symbolic gestures? When people are afraid, dictators and despots are often recast in the eyes of the desperate as heroes and liberators. The Dark Lord mentioned having something planned for Nar Shaddaa through his agents, but I hold no quarrel with the populace of that planet, they've been through enough with the quiet purges that no one is talking about. Perhaps if you leave now you can save the ones that are left. Tick tock, Jedi, tick tock." The mist gathered around Nyrys in roiling clouds, dissipating to reveal nothing but the echo of her her words. ----------------------------- "Withdraw the remainder of our forces, commanders. The Dark Lord is gone, may the Dark Queen Nyrys reign as long as her blade remains sharp." There was going to be a moment of breathless vacuum that would feel like an eternity where the Sith would decide whether to accept or challenge Nyrys's claim. The most likely challenger in terms of raw power was her old master, the Krath sorcerer Sheog, but he struck her as beyond the political struggles of the Sith, his thoughts consumed almost entirely by his need to satiate his hunger. Even so, the hutt was wise and no stranger to battle, perhaps he would accept an offer of acting as her vizier. There had been much talk among the Sith of Darth Mavanger and the campaign that he was leading, but he had not yet been exalted to the rank of master, so a bid for Dark Lord now would be premature. Combining forces with him would give her a chance to demonstrate her abilities to the other Sith on the grand theater stage of military pomp and pageantry. His natural charisma and momentum would be valuable assets if he was willing to fall in line. She ordered encrypted communiques sent to Krath Sheog and Darth Mavanger. She also would need to quickly fill the ranks of the Sith armies with effective soldiers, so she sent another encrypted message to Delta. She didn't know if she had all of the words to express her feelings on the reality of becoming the ruler of the Sith Empire to someone who was a confidante and lover, nor did she want such information getting to the wrong hands, so she left it at they would talk in person soon. Finally, as her ship was leaving the planet's orbit she requested a special fabrication from one of the shipbound engineering teams, a tungsten spear the size of which made it impractical for any mortal warrior to wield.
  27. “I question the desire to even touch Ryloth, it contains the most cowed race in the galaxy. Enslaved for the last few thousand years. If the Rebels have built a base of operations there then we would have known it. The planet remains isolated, if we need to mop it up in the after campaign then we will but in my opinion it would be best to leave it where it lies.” Delta gave a crisp salute. “But whatever we plan, my men and I stand ready.”
  28. Type: Capital Ship Class: Star Destroyer Length: 1,800m Crew: 13,000 Gunners: 500 Armament: 16 Medium Turbolaser Batteries 20 Siege Torpedo tubes 72 Heavy Concussion Missile arrays 32 Point Defense Laser cannons Description: The first new ship to come from the Geonosis shipyards since the Clone Wars, the Abaddon class Star Destroyer is heavily modeled after the Victory I class star destroyer. Featuring two dozen torpedo tubes and nearly 600 individual concussion missile tube, the Abaddon Star Destroyer makes up what it lacks in armor in pure firepower. Built for short, brutal engagements, it carries enough ammo for up to three full salvos from its concussion missiles, as well as 200 spare torpedoes. While lacking in close-in defense, the ASD is not defenseless, featuring a small array of turblolasers and point defense cannons, though against other capital ships it relies on its obscene number of missiles. As an almost unintended side effect, the lack of turbolasers led to excess power capabilities, allowing for much more powerful targeting computers and extra power to shields, though its ammo remains limited. The ASD works, at it's best, in flash skirmishes against other capital ships and cruisers, where it fires its salvos and ends the fight swiftly.
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