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Korriban


Exodus

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Sanguis head shifted as Agent Orin spoke in his approach, the Agent attempting to somber the moment, but failing miserably. Sanguis knew his words to be truth, as his presence held no inaccuracies, and for a brief moment, it sent Sanguis into a closely held panic as his heart rate elevated. But Sanguis calmed himself, reaching out into the Force and letting its serene currents course through him.

 

But the Force here, nearest the planet, was corrupted, sickly in disease and plagued by the Darkside that had resided here for millennia. And despite the serene currents that flowed, a mixture of hatred and anxiety rolled with it like pollution amidst a stream. This was the first moment that Sanguis felt what they were truly up against, and it soured his very core.

 

He had felt the darkness of one's heart before, the ill intent of another, in his travels and missions. And even Nar Shadaa, his first introduction to the Sith which had left his scarred as much mentally as it did physically,  held no candle to the weight he felt pressured upon his presence within the Force as he touched it. This place was the culmination of evil, true evil, and it permeated like rotted flesh upon it.

 

"I see..." He replied through a knotted up throat, his voice croaking as if choking upon his words as the realization set in.

 

And true panic set in. His eyes widened and his palms began to sweat. Beads of anxiety perspired upon his brow and questions entered his mind as doubt clouded his thoughts. Even questions of his skill came calling and whether he deserved the Rank of Knight pressed against his psyche as a voice streamed across the ship and he felt as if his heart stopped beating. And yet, even as the words drew horror in his soul, Sanguis made little outward expression. Was this shock? Or was something else in play?

 

His Master's farewell came to mind as the attack upon the commenced, explosions rocking space and presence as the Darkside threatened to corrupt the life around them. This world was full of past and present intent and it echoed within the Force like howling spirits. And yet, his thoughts focused upon the words rather than the moment, and a strength was found within them, like an ember igniting, suddenly warming the cold around them. A light within the darkness, Sanguis suddenly became a beacon, and his mindframe shifted as if a final piece fell into place as if his will held a will of its own.

 

"Rest. And rise a Jedi Knight." The words echoed within his mind as if on repeat, echoing a hidden psyche that had been buried deep. "Rest. And rise a Jedi Knight."

 

Trembling hands traced their way toward the cross guarded lightsaber that remained clipped to his sash, and his body began to cool. The emerald Kyber within the emitters housing swirled a hidden emerald swirl within, and Sanguis soul quieted. And within his mind, the realization of duty came to the forefront of his thoughts. This was why he trained. This was the culmination of his fifty years of life. This was his life, predestined by fate that began long before memories were ever recalled and before he ever knew his adopted homeworld. Fear was meant to be faced, courage the simple act. And as he stood amidst the bombardment, despite his nerves, his psyche settled.

 

As chaos grew around them, Sanguis followed Captain Bryce and the others quickly toward the Assault ships, and before he knew what overtook him, was in open space headed for the darkened world below with war in open season. His nerves seemed settled, his mind focused. Fear still sat upon him, but his psyche was resisting. His voice spoke, calm and serene, if not a bit arrogant. "For the greater good."

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“As expected.” Slaughter glanced downwards towards a chronometer at the base of his tactical pit, beneath the holographic overlay that depicted the orbit of his fleet above Korriban. Orange specks bloomed on the holographic surface of the planet as sensors detected ground fires–anti-orbitals of some sort. “Reinforce shields to starboard, loosen up the formation and begin evasive maneuvers–”

 

“Incoming missiles! Launches from locations eight through eighteen!” Came a shout from the crewpits.

 

Slaughter gave the orders, but his voice was utterly superfluous and necessary for beginning a maneuver that he drilled obsessively into every unit that he commanded. The formation began to loosen up, the six supporting corvettes drifting a hundred meters away from Fidelity and Benediction to form an intercepting screen between the capital ships and any attacks that might be launched from Korriban. Their laser cannons opened up at the approach of the incoming missiles, projecting a web of crimson fire in the hopes of detonating the missiles before they reached their targets. But there was a slight variation on that maneuver: the spread of the intercepting fire was just a little bit looser than the standard pattern for starfighter-launched warheads.

 

“Target locations nine through twelve. Open fire, turbolasers and ions only. Signal Geist squadron to observe for effect.” Slaughter eyed the vectors that traced the projected flight of the incoming missiles with some concern. Ground-launched missiles were a rare anti-orbital weapon--most militaries favored turbolasers, rather than deal with the necessary cost of storing the weapons and wasting fuel on defeating gravity.. However, the weapons could be much more sophisticated than a turbolaser cannon or a starfighter-launched missile. There was every possibility that the weapons were equipped with break-off decoys or cluster warheads--or delayed-fuse warheads than the simple impact fuses that starfighters typically used. They also tended to reach much higher velocities than their miniaturized counterparts…

 

Even as the turbolasers aboard Fidelity began to rain down crimson fire upon four of the anti-orbital batteries, Slaughter silently fretted and watched as the missiles approached the point-defense fire from his squadron.

 

His hands went to the handles of his wheelchair and idly pushed himself back and forth a few inches. It was an utterly unsatisfactory way to fret.

 

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(( @MSA))

 

“Oh, good. Good. I’m glad to hear that you’re not one of those weirdos that gets their kicks from killing people.  We try to sort those guys ay-sap. Overenthusiastic. Unstable. Prone to going off and getting themselves killed–or worse, killing some random civvie schmo.” From the abundance of firepower and the hilt of the vibromachete that protruded from its shoulder holster, it was plain that all of the Talons were equipped and trained to be loud and aggressive–yet there was an edge of nervous energy that seeped into Johanna Bryce at the final hyperspace jump. The shock trooper offered the Jedi a helping hand into their U-Wing, gripping the Jedi’s arm just above his elbow.

 

“You see the Twi’lek there?” Johanna pointed towards a blue-skinned Twi’lek as she strapped herself into her restraint webbing. He was visibly shivering against his restraints and looked a little bit pale with nausea. “Cazne gets the shakes every single time we do a drop, training or combat–”

 

“Thanks, Captain.”

 

“Scary calm in combat. It’s like the guy is doing some Jedi mind trick when the shit hits the fan.”

 

The visibly miserable Twi’lek looked like he was about to say something in defense of his nausea, only to be interrupted by the transport’s pilot.

 

“Three, two, one, we’re off, Talons.” The transport’s pilot recited before it lifted from the hangar and promptly went dark in the coldness of space. “Remember, we are making an unpowered descent. Expect heavy turbulence in atmo. Strap yerselves in. I don’t want bird crap all over my nice clean transport.”

 

Eight U-Wing gunships and a dozen old Y-Wing fighter-bombers began their final descent towards Korriban. Unpowered and lifeless in their downwards glide, they would give off few signals that would mark them as potential targets–but they would be utterly helpless until they began their start-up sequences in the atmosphere. It was completely soundless in the transport that Captain Bryce and Knight Aequitas occupied, save for the hissing of a nearby life support vent and the rattling of one of their number trembling against his restraints.

 

“I know, it’s cold. Gets cold quickly without life support.” Bryce smiled; she was also shivering. “It’s a bit like Bespin, actually.”

 

What was completely unlike Bespin was the unpredictable rocking of the transport as it punched into the high winds of a jet stream, which only worsened as the transport continued its descent into thicker airs. Bryce just closed her eyes and kept her mind focused on her mental map of the Valley–the turns that the transport was likely to take in their approach, the optimal locations of marksman teams, and the jetpack time required to make a combat drop into the anti-orbital batteries. Light impacts battered the sides of her helmet upon entry into a minor storm cell–she heard the whining of the transports start-up motor as the pilot began a mid-air start-up sequence… and a mighty whoomp as the engines coughed away a cloud of dust and roared back to life.

 

Johanna opened her eyes just in time to see the horizon of Korriban’s badlands distressingly close to the transport. The entire transport shuddered and creaked as its pilot pulled the vessel out of its descent–the shock trooper clenched her muscles to fight against the encroaching blackness in the edges of her vision…

 

…and lost. The expression on her face shifted from a crunched grimace to slack-jawed peace. Her neck slumped and rocked limply from side to side with each maneuver. 

 

Each pilot fighting against their extreme speed and the winds of the planet, the U-Wing transports and Y-Wings pulled out of their steep dive and began to skim the surface of Korriban. They blasted up a cloud of dust in their wake, resembling a miniature sand storm that would be visible from kilometers away. It would take another thirty perilous seconds of surface-skimming until the strike team reached the cover of their trench run through the canyons of the Valley. Bryce eventually came to, blinking rapidly and scanning from one end of the transport to the other, her expression blank as though she was not entirely certain where she was.

 

“Is everyone alright? Alright? Yes? I’m okay. Yeah?” A few more dumb blinks followed and reality seemed to reassert itself. “Jedi, are you still with us?”

 

Edited by ObliviousKnight
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On 10/6/2022 at 2:14 AM, TerrorBot said:

The pod began to shake violently as it passed through the clouds, picking up even more speed. No longer altering its trajectory, the pod was utilizing its engines solely for speed. 

 

“Rip and tear. Guts and guns. Hell’s heart, stabbings for thee!” Ruin shouted, laughing now, even as missiles passed almost inches from the escape pod hurtling towards the planet. 

 

>45 seconds to impact> Fera updated. >Once again, my long range communications is linked with the ships above. 30 seconds to impact. Ground forces will hopefully think we are an incoming missile that will miss its target. 20 seconds to impact…< 

 

All the way, Ruin laughed. Here he was, at the cultural heart of the Sith empire, fulfilling his programming. 

 

The Home Guard Commander watched the screen with the stoicism of a droid. A tall, burly example of a Trandoshan, his face was made conspicuous by his black ritualistic tattoos and a deformed snout that had been broken and not set correctly more than once. He'd had a name once too. In his rest time, when he was forced to stop training and allow his body to recover, he liked to occupy his thoughts by trying to remember it as a sort of mental exercise. He never could, which made it the perfect way to pass the time. It didn't matter.

 

He was the Commander. He served the Sith. Anything beyond that fact was just context.

 

The scanners picked up an object dropping through atmosphere.

 

No discernable lifeforms...

 

Darth Xervatus wants more time. He ordered that anything that descended be shot.

 

With the speed the object was approaching at, the Commander was unsure if the Praxeum's defenses would get a solid hit. Still, a demonstration of firepower might make the enemy back off and reconsider their approach. And that would buy time.

 

A few quick keystrokes and a crisp series of orders on the command frequency, and the turbolaser batteries and point-defense cannons rotated on their positions and trained onto the descending object. The turbolasers were the first to open fire, their incredible range easily encompassing the descending object. The point-defense cannons slowly adjusted as they tracked the object, waiting for it to come into range.

 

Only the ion cannons were held back. After all, it didn't appear that this object was powered.

 

On 10/9/2022 at 10:58 PM, Sgt. Slaughter said:

“Target locations nine through twelve. Open fire, turbolasers and ions only. Signal Geist squadron to observe for effect.” Slaughter eyed the vectors that traced the projected flight of the incoming missiles with some concern. Ground-launched missiles were a rare anti-orbital weapon--most militaries favored turbolasers, rather than deal with the necessary cost of storing the weapons and wasting fuel on defeating gravity.. However, the weapons could be much more sophisticated than a turbolaser cannon or a starfighter-launched missile. There was every possibility that the weapons were equipped with break-off decoys or cluster warheads--or delayed-fuse warheads than the simple impact fuses that starfighters typically used. They also tended to reach much higher velocities than their miniaturized counterparts…

 

Even as the turbolasers aboard Fidelity began to rain down crimson fire upon four of the anti-orbital batteries, Slaughter silently fretted and watched as the missiles approached the point-defense fire from his squadron.

 

The Commander's tail twitched as the bombardment commenced, an echoing boom accompanying each blast. A lucky shot struck one of the missile launch tubes before it could close, followed by a geyser of fire and a quick series of status reports leaping onto the Commander's display. Only a few casualties among the technical staff stationed in the area, but the losses were irrelevant compared to the damage done. The other tubes in that battery would have to be checked and cleared before firing again, or risk premature detonation.

 

The enemy's gunners were good.

 

The remaining blasts scorched the Sith Steel of the pyramids, but for the moment the structures held. Perhaps with enough time the enemy might burn their way through, but given the time it would take

 

"Shift fire to the next set of batteries. Continue randomized rotation as planned."

 

They didn't need to win. They needed to stall. So said Darth Xervatus. So it would be.

 

On 10/9/2022 at 11:02 PM, Johanna Bryce said:

Eight U-Wing gunships and a dozen old Y-Wing fighter-bombers began their final descent towards Korriban. Unpowered and lifeless in their downwards glide, they would give off few signals that would mark them as potential targets–but they would be utterly helpless until they began their start-up sequences in the atmosphere. It was completely soundless in the transport that Captain Bryce and Knight Aequitas occupied, save for the hissing of a nearby life support vent and the rattling of one of their number trembling against his restraints.

 

Darth Xervatus stopped as he descended the stone steps into the depths of the Praxeum. He'd...felt something. Panic? No, nothing so uncontrolled. Fear had many complexities to it to the truly enlightened, and the perception of such had always been one of Darth Xervatus' true strengths. That and the exploitation of said fear.

 

This felt...restrained. Familiar. Like the one feeling it had felt it before, and wore it like a old leather glove.

 

Ah, a soldier, of course.

 

Closing his eyes, let himself draw in that fear, make it a part of himself. It wove through him, around him, and suddenly he knew.

 

Raising his communicator, he keyed up the Commander.

 

"Commander, you have an enemy approaching from the northeast, moving towards the canyon. I advise you prepare a welcome for them."

________________________________________________________

 

The Commander did not question. Still, he wondered how they had done it. A cloaking device seemed unlikely. A dead drop then? That might work, but you'd have to be extremely good or extremely reckless to try. In the end it did not matter. Even if they had missed the enemy on their descent, they'd catch them once they entered the canyon. 

 

Within moments, the ion cannons that had been idle repositioned, preparing to lay down a hail of fire along the canyon the moment an enemy target appeared. The Commander allowed himself a brief smile, lips peeling back from reptilian fangs.

 

These attackers were good. But the Sith were inevitable and absolute. He felt that certainty more than anything, more than the need to breathe itself.

 

How could these fools possibly hope to win?

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Talyn listened as Captain Bryce pointed at the Twi'lek and explained about him. He found it somewhat interesting...it seemed everyone handled the drops differently, and that was the way he handled it. He felt the cold as the life support was turned temporarily off, it was lucky he now had the helmet to his armour on, protecting from the cold and the sudden change as well the inevitable combat to come. He knew the Sith would not accept the terms, his time among them had taught him that.

 

As the ship rocketed to the Valley canyons he braced for impact, even as the restraints that held him threatened to come loose. Scanning about as the craft finally made it's rough landing, Talyn unfastened himself from his restraints before looking about to see if the others were ok. 

 

He slung his primary weapon around to his waist using the strap attached to it, as he went to see if the Jedi Knight was ok when Captain Bryce mentioned him. Talyn briefing spoke as he did so.

 

 "That was a bit more rough than I expected, but I suspect it's only getting more rough from here. you alright there Jedi Equitas? Best we get moving, longer we stay here the more unwanted attention we attract."

 

Edited by Talyn Orin
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Sanguis heard Captain Bryce's words, and understood their intent, the youthful nature of the aged Jedi prevailing as he strapped himself in for the long and quick descent. Individuality made the Galaxy a place of grandeur to live and exist within, each capable of countless outcomes depending upon the viewpoint and path taken. If it had not been for his Master,  Sanguis was unsure of where he would even be, if he was to be anywhere. But Individuality was more than choice and consequence. It was defined by nature, intent, and possibility. It was defined by the very individual.

 

As the ship began its free fall and the coldness of space took root within the ship's dwindling oxygen, the Force swirled around the Jedi Knight like moths to the flame. It came as natural as a breath, the area around within Sanguis warming to match that of his internal core temperature. It was a misunderstood rarity that Sanguis barely held any foreknowledge of, having been a part of himself as long as he could remember, his affinity for Tapas rooted within his unknown origins. But it had always been an ally and rarely a hindrance, having saved his life many times and helped in his survival as a child. And even as unconsciousness threatened to overcome him, it never wavered. 

 

Most of the drop was a hindered blur, wrapped in a blanket of the Force as he fought back both the fear of the moment and the call of unconsciousness. In truth, the moment was likely what kept him from falling completely into unconsciousness, his adrenaline kicking into overdrive in a mimic of his fight or flight responses. But deep down, there was another mixture of biology and emotion, that despite the fear and the threat of unconsciousness, there laid a hint of excitement and thrill, a rarity of its own right. A lack of composure overtook him.

 

"Whoooooooo!" Sanguis exclaimed as the ship's turbulence rocketed and threatened to throw him, the ache of his emptied stomach threatening to turn its self inside out in the decent and then the sudden but abrupt acceleration as the engines and mechanicals kicked back in, his heart beat pounding in his ears. And in the moment, sanity seemed to leave him cackling. "Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha.

 

Feeling the sudden revert from near weightlessness to being thrown back into his seat, teary eyed Sanguis glanced about the cabin as the others suddenly began to stir and both the Captain and the Imperial Agent began to check on the others. A smirked grin upon his face, his gaze shot toward them as they questioned his wellbeing. There was but only one reply he could give, his nerves briefly settled and his mind upon something other than war.

 

"Never better!" He yelled toward them.

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All at once, the pod shook and swerved violently to the side, as one of the turbolaser shots grazed the pod’s sides, damaging the thrusters. The pod careened violently around, spinning as it went off target despite Fera’s best attempts to reorientate the pod’s direction. 

 

>Brace for impact< Fera commented as she clung tightly to Ruin’s backside. 

 

Ruin laughed all the more. “Crashings then bashings!” 

 

The crash was violent to say the least. Hitting the sands and hard rock of Korriban, the pod skidded for several miles before it eventually came to a stop. Its crash, several miles away from the intended target, drew attention from the locals: Numerous large, drooling Tuk’ata, long separated from the tombs that they guarded,  approached the pod. While they sensed no life yet, instinct told them that when things came from the air, they usually held delicacies inside. 

 

The first Tuk’ata who had begun sniffing the pod curiously was thrown back as Ruin kicked the Pod’s door off. The other hounds growled and snarled as the droid exited, gun in hand. 

 

“Guts and guns!” Ruin declared and then opened fire on the closest dogs. 

 

The first three hounds exploded as the flechettes shredded skin and muscle apart. The other hounds, momentarily surprised, managed to charge forward, eager to kill this new foe. It may not have been alive, but it was a challenger to their dominance, and needed to be destroyed. 

 

“Click click…” Ruin pumped his weapon before aiming towards the nearest enemy. “Boom!” 

 

Another two hounds were instantly shredded apart. However, these hounds were spread apart and another was able to leap forward at the droid. Seeing the leaping menace, Ruin released one hand off the gun and reached up under the beast, grabbing it by the neck. With a swift motion, spun and slammed the beast’s head  into the pod’s wall, splattering bones and brains across the metal. 

 

“Rip and tear! Guts and guns!” Ruin shouted as he moved from the pod to dodge another incoming beast, while simultaneously pumping his weapon again for another shot. This time the hounds were more clustered together and a single shot would do much more work. Those hounds that would be hit but survive would know better than to face this thing head-on.

 

Still, even as several more dogs fell shredded apart, the leader of the pack remained unafraid. A beast of immense proportions, the alpha’s face dripped with blood as several glancing flechettes already tore parts of it away. Enraged, it let out a howl that shook the soul of any being around. 

 

“No pain! No fear!” Ruin roared back in challenge, holstering his weapon. 

 

The beast charged and leapt forward. Ruin charged as well and brought a fist upwards into the beast’s throat. The force of the smash sent the beast backwards a bit. However, to Ruin’s shock, the beast reflexed like a feline and landed on its feet before charging again. 

 

Surprised, the Terror droid could only bring his arm up to catch the beast’s jaws as it tackled. It snapped and bit at left Ruin’s arm while raking it’s claws across the droid’s chest. The screech of claw on metal filled the air as the dog attempted to find a chink in the droid’s outer shell. 

 

Suddenly there was a blur of metal over the hounds face. Fera, ignored in the battle due to her small size and inaction, had leapt and crawled over the beast’s face. Buzzing and chirping her own war cry, Fera activated her saw and plasma torch, going for the tender and exposed eyes. 

 

Surprised and blinded, the alpha let up its attack to paw and swipe at the new foe. Seeing the attack, Fera leapt off and crawled around in the sand, looking for another opportunity to strike. Seizing the opportunity, Ruin shoved the Tuk’ata off to the side, rolling it over and over. 

 

Blinded and dazed, the alpha struggled to get up and face its enemy. Ruin wasted no time and kicked the thing over before placing a metal foot on its side, pinning it down. With both hands, Ruin grabbed the hound’s head and pulled. Blood splattered out as head and spinal cord came ripping out.

 

“Guts and guns!” Ruin declared as he held the trophy up for the other hounds to see. Seeing their alpha taken out, combined with the fact that this prey was not organic, the rest of the pack fled. 

 

>Excellent work<  Fera commented as she crawled back onto Ruin’s shoulder. >I have uploaded directions to your HUD.<

 

Ruin kicked the Tuk’ata’s head towards the fleeing dogs and turned in the direction Fera indicated. In the distance one could see the turbolaser defenses that had shot the pod out of the sky.  

 

“Huntings and hurtings!” Ruin shouted as he broke into a sprint, rearming and reloading his Flechette launcher in the process. “Kill them! Gotta kill them all!” 

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  • 2 weeks later...

A dust cloud was approaching the Valley of the Dark Lords. At the front of that dust cloud were the Y-Wings of Wurm Squadron, which were kicking up a column of dust from their repulsorlift engines. It was expanded into a larger veil by the transports just behind them, to the point that it would appear almost as a storm cell to early-warning sensors. Shortly after the first of those fighter-bombers entered the canyons leading to the Valley, they came under fire from the ion batteries set into the rocky walls. The Y-Wings immediately loosened their formation and allowed the bolts to pass harmlessly over their bows and through the column, but one of the transports was not so lucky. 

 

Struck on its side, one of its engines coughed up dust and died, causing the vessel to lose speed and list out of the column. In a desperate attempt to save his passengers, its pilot climbed out of the formation, stalling the transport but succeeding in avoiding a fatal collision with the canyon walls. At the end of its lazy climb and the beginning of its terminal dive into the canyon floors, its passenger doors slid open. A squad of Talon marines fell into the open air and ignited their jetpacks, blasting away from their crippled transport before it plunged into the sandy floor and cartwheeled into a fiery wreck.

 

Just a few meters above and twenty meters ahead, Johanna Bryce was listening to the comms chatter with an expression of growing apprehension on her face. All of the Talons were still alive and were on a glideslope to assault the battery that had downed their transport. Even the pilot had managed to get out before the crash. But the strike team had just been detected, and would be making their combat drops into a rancor’s nest of forewarned anti-air. She stood, gripping the centerrail and swaying with the sharp turns of the transport.

 

“Sixty seconds! Gear check!” Her marines made the familiar motions, standing free from their restraints and patting down the locations of their weapons and gear. A chorus of responding readies followed, only a few seconds before the transport crested the final ridge and descended into the open expanse of monuments and archeological digs and tombs of the Valley of the Dark Lords. Four of the Y-Wings had already broken off into their attack runs and sent proton bombs into the entrenched point-defense emplacements. The other eight were racing past the Valley and towards the spaceport of Dreshdae, hunting for the anti-air cannons that were emplaced there.

 

Captain Bryce’s own transport landed near one of the larger missile batteries that was fortified into the surrounding cliffs. Pausing only to allow the blinding clouds of dust to waft away, the shock trooper charged towards the site.

 

The next few minutes would be of desperate, close-range fighting: bombers and transports struggling to provide air support in an environment that still had a number of point defense cannons in action, shock troopers rushing to disable and destroy cannons from the ground…

 

…and a fleet that was waiting for the signal that their vulnerable troop transports could begin the occupation of Dreshdae.

 

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The duel between the great guns continued, with neither side really accomplishing much of significance. True, a couple of the ground-side batteries were no longer firing, but the missiles were succeeding in keeping the Galactic Alliance fleet from descending further to execute a more lethal bombardment. The mere presence of all those batteries threatened to utterly maul the supporting ships in the squadron. It wouldn’t be until the Talons succeeded in knocking out a few of the anti-orbitals that they could risk anything heavier than starfighters…

 

A green blip appeared on his tactical display at the same moment as an officer called out from the command pits. “Signals from Wurm Squadron. First attack run in motion, Talons landing.”

 

“Very well. Guns, belay those fire orders. Shift targets to… two through twelve.” That would shift Fidelity’s turbolasers from the Valley of the Dark Lords to several of the batteries that were protecting Dreshdae’s spaceports. “Let’s give our ground-pounders a chance to do their work. Move in the secondary strike package.”

 

Slaughter’s fingers rapped impatiently on the sides of his wheelchairs. A vein was beginning to pop out in his forehead. A part of his heart that forever belonged to the infantry badly wanted to move up his own timetable… but until a few more of the anti-orbitals were brought out of action, it would be a lethal environment for his ships. 

 

They wouldn’t be entirely without support. In addition to the first wave of bombs delivered by Wurm Squadron, the Y-Wings of Basilisk Squadron and the X-Wings of Hawkbat and Vrelt Squadrons would soon be on station to respond to calls for air support.

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

"What have I gotten myself into?" was the most singular and abrupt thought that entered Sanguis' mind as he followed Captain Bryce and her men into the fray, his Emerald Crossguard ignited behind the first few erupting Blasters. Emotions blurred but for a brief moment and then his adrenaline kicked it and swept the young Jedi Knight up in the moment of battle.

 

As blasterfire erupted in return, Æquitas was quick to deflect what he was able to, the twirling of his blade and the subtle hum signaling his presence amongst the masses, and what he couldn't deflect with his blade, the Force that swirled around him became an extension of his will. It was chaos. It was hell. And he was in the thick of it. And at the slightest of gut feelings, he reacted.

 

As crimson bolts whizzed past or met with earth, Æquitas remained alert and on guard in a supportive role, using the Force to pull friendlies out of the line of fire and to push the enemies as far from his comrades as he could. Sweat beaded from his brow as the dusted earth kicked up and caked in its moisture. As his mind whizzed a mile a minutes, he found himself caught up quickly in the chaos.

 

With each breath, a second passed. And with each second, it seemed the moment was an eternity. Blaster fire echoed, and the heat from explosions rippled as the whizz of the fighter engines roared over head. And yet, the push was relentless, each target programmed and etched into the memories of those who led him. And he kept up. He dared not falter for even the briefest of seconds. He used his one true ally to protect those around him to the best of his abilities. 

 

But in the midst of the war's fog, nothing was ever certainty nor was it controlled. Even as the crimson of blood stained his cerulean blue robes, he could not see it. For this was war, and it had taken ahold of him. As a Jedi, he held true to yet have taken a life in the moments. But as a sentient being, his mind was maxed out and he was oblivious to those he had yet to see fallen. He simply reacted.

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As Captain Bryce charged towards the site, Talyn Orin, Imperial Intelligence Operative of the Alliance followed. Doing his part for the liberation of the current hellhole they found themselves in, cleaning up the last outposts of the Sith. Any place they would call refuge. Proving how even despite Nar Shadda...the war was far from over. Laying low and taking cover behind anything he could, the soldier zig sagged towards his objective.

 

Lifting the sonic rifle as he got within range, he left out a couple of shots, hitting one of the enemy and electrifying his organs. He was incapacitated as hundreds of volts were sent alongside body and could likely be taken prisoner or be killed, that would be up to those alongside him. He would march forwards. Next the Intelligence Operative threw a shock grenade ahead of him into a bunker nestled in the side of the canyon. Several people flew in all directions, some wounded, some disoriented while others lay dead inside. War was never pretty and Talyn Orin was prepared to get his hands dirty for freedom. He admired the Jedi Knight's skill and finesse, as he did Captain Bryce, it became clear now why they had been selected.

 

Although he wondered what had become of the droid R.U.I.N. He hadn't seen him and the buzz droid since they left.

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On 10/19/2022 at 9:20 PM, TerrorBot said:

Ruin kicked the Tuk’ata’s head towards the fleeing dogs and turned in the direction Fera indicated. In the distance one could see the turbolaser defenses that had shot the pod out of the sky.  

 

“Huntings and hurtings!” Ruin shouted as he broke into a sprint, rearming and reloading his Flechette launcher in the process. “Kill them! Gotta kill them all!”

 

///Sensor perimeter breached///

>>Analysis...

>>Lifeform==00

>>Droid==01

>>92.55% : (dsg)Combatant

>>Protocol;[defend001v], A;{/} A;{X}

>>Deploying

 

Darth Xervatus had not been idle in his stay at the Praxeum. Being such a avid scholar of history, he had taken the opportunity to reinvent some tools of the Sith of the past. The automated defenses for this particular turbolaser, along with a few others, were one of them.

 

A trio of mechanical forms unfolded and detached themselves from the side of the turbolaser battery. In deep, rumbling binary, they spoke as their photoreceptors caught sight of the approaching Ruin.

 

"TARGET ACQUIRED"

 

As one, they raised their arms, and let loose a volley of blaster fire.

 

On 10/31/2022 at 10:21 PM, Johanna Bryce said:

“Sixty seconds! Gear check!” Her marines made the familiar motions, standing free from their restraints and patting down the locations of their weapons and gear. A chorus of responding readies followed, only a few seconds before the transport crested the final ridge and descended into the open expanse of monuments and archeological digs and tombs of the Valley of the Dark Lords. Four of the Y-Wings had already broken off into their attack runs and sent proton bombs into the entrenched point-defense emplacements. The other eight were racing past the Valley and towards the spaceport of Dreshdae, hunting for the anti-air cannons that were emplaced there.

 

Captain Bryce’s own transport landed near one of the larger missile batteries that was fortified into the surrounding cliffs. Pausing only to allow the blinding clouds of dust to waft away, the shock trooper charged towards the site.

 

The next few minutes would be of desperate, close-range fighting: bombers and transports struggling to provide air support in an environment that still had a number of point defense cannons in action, shock troopers rushing to disable and destroy cannons from the ground…

 

…and a fleet that was waiting for the signal that their vulnerable troop transports could begin the occupation of Dreshdae.

 

Captain Bryce's prediction became reality as Sith troopers poured out of the battery near where she'd landed, red blaster bolts zipping across the battlefield even before they had time to line up their shots. These soldiers were not the elite, but the zealous. These were the broken, the mad, and the glory hungry who had refused to admit the Sith Empire's end. Even as their own ranks dropped to enemy fire, they continued to charge forward. Some screamed battlecries. Others wept or cackled, lost in their own warped sense of reality.

 

Barking commands, a warrior in gleaming black and gold plastoid armor strode out of the battery behind them. This was one of the elite, and at his command, a portion of the troops broke off their mad charge and took cover, some behind the bodies of those they'd trampled a second ago. A ragged firing line opened up on the approaching enemy, but their position was tenuous. The elite spotted Æquitas, and trained his repeating blaster rifle on him from the rear line, sending a scything line of blaster fire towards the Jedi.

 

On 10/31/2022 at 10:22 PM, Sgt. Slaughter said:

“Very well. Guns, belay those fire orders. Shift targets to… two through twelve.” That would shift Fidelity’s turbolasers from the Valley of the Dark Lords to several of the batteries that were protecting Dreshdae’s spaceports. “Let’s give our ground-pounders a chance to do their work. Move in the secondary strike package.”

 

The Home Guard Commander snarled as the automated voice of the computer recited in clipped words the data it simultaneously displayed on the screen.

 

"Lost contact with turbolaser battery two and four. 12% of point defense cannons failing to respond. Ion cannon 3 has suffered critical damage and will not rotate."

 

The Commander's clawed hands touched the holographic interface, redirecting point defense cannon targeting priorities manually in an attempt to anticipate enemy moves. As each bomber and fighter moved across the display, his mind catalogued them. Slowly, he was sorting which held the most talented pilots, the hotheads, and the textbook flyers. It wasn't enough though, and he knew it. There were too many of them, and they were too good. Without air support of their own, this was just a matter of time.

 

I must provide time.

 

"Home Guard squads 1 thru 7, form up and fortify in the main entryway. Prepare for contact. All entries are either deserters or the enemy. Kill on sight."

 

Just inside the large, thick stone and metal doors of the primary pyramid, more black and gold troops swarmed out of side passages and hallways. Taking cover behind pillars and temporary durasteel barricades, the elite of the Praxeum set up and trained their weapons on the doors. Not for a second did they lose focus. These soldiers were the successes of the Sith's "training." They would not break. They couldn't.

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The turbolasers, mounted into the side of a cliff-face, posed a natural issue to any kind of enemy. A half-full garrison would have been enough to protect the lasers from a ground assault of a well armed squad of clones. Whether Ruin understood that or not was irregardless of the situation however. If it was armed to the teeth, the Terror droid would’ve continued his charge. 

 

However, when the trio of droids began to open fire on Ruin, he had to adjust. 

 

“Lasers and lancers” Ruin declared as he stopped in his tracks and dove for cover. “Stupid sith! Gotta kill them all!

 

The terror Droid rolled behind a rather large boulder. Laser fire repeatedly blasted themselves into the ancient stone and sand around Ruin, hoping to bring death to the droid. 

 

“Blasters and bashers!” Ruin cursed. After a moment of adjusting his own programming to suit the situation, Ruin drove his metal digits into the boulder’s edges and heaved it up. Blaster fire continued to beat the boulder, leaving scorch marks, but Ruin was undeterred. Instead of seeking more cover, Ruin kept the boulder between himself and the enemy. 

 

“Hahaha!” Ruin started to laugh, picking up speed and momentum. “Dead gods! I kill your gods! Fear and panic!” 

 

>Approaching ideal distance< Fera commented. Seeing what was coming, she had crawled to Ruin’s right forearm. 

 

In one swift motion, the Terror Droid pulled the boulder back slightly, and shotput the thing at the droids firing. The droid’s themselves adapted, having been updated for this new age of combat. Each one moved to dodge the deadly flying rock projectile.

 

What they had not expected was the small Buzz droid that was thrown immediately afterwards. 

 

Fera landed on the closest Sith War droid’s sensors, buzz saw roaring to life. With a quick slash and a quick cut, she had blinded the thing permanently and moved around its neck. The Sith war droid attempted to fight back, trying to find any kind of target to fire upon, spinning around wildly, but Fera only clung and climbed all over the body. Finally the droid stopped  suffering when its compatriots fired on it, attempting to shoot the small buzz droid. 

 

Fera jumped off as the droid fell over. One target down, she scurried across the ground in a randomized pattern, maximizing the chances of the droids miscalculating where she would be in the next moment as she made her way towards the next target. 

 

However, at this close range, even her advanced and evolved AI could not avoid forever, as one of the droid’s lasers exploded next to her, sending her flying backwards into the chassis of the dead war droid.

 

The two living war droids would’ve finished off the small Pistoeka with merciless execution, had they had one second more before Ruin, who had climbed up the cliffside, grabbed one of the droid’s legs and pulled it over the edge. 

 

As the one tumbled to its own demise, Ruin pulled himself up and tackled the remaining droid, who was attempting to face Ruin. Grabbing both of the Sith Droid’s blaster arms, Ruin aimed them upwards as they opened fire. The two wrestled for a bit, laser fire striking the walls of the turbolaser battery everywhere, until Ruin managed to place one foot on the droid’s legs to leverage himself. With a swift tug, Ruin ripped the arm off, sparks flying everywhere. 

 

“Smash and bash!” Ruin declared as he smacked the droid over and over with his new makeshift club until it too tumbled over the edge.

 

Ruin tossed the arm after the droid and faced the now locked door the droids had exited from. 

 

>One moment< Fera beeped. She quickly made her way to the nearest exposed control panel, and moments later, exposed the wirings underneath. Another moment later fusing some of the wires together, she successfully hotwired the doorway to open. 

 

“Rip and tear! Burn and blast!” Ruin shouted for all to hear inside. Now rearmed with his flechette launcher, and Fera clinging tightly to his backside, he charged in. 

 

>I calculate that your best opportunity to take down the turbolaser is to attack the control center. Calculating most likely route. Warning: 98% chance that you will face heavy opposition the entire way< 

 

Ruin laughed. “Let them fight! Let them die!” 

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  • 5 weeks later...

Talyn reacted as his instincts and training told him to do. Ducking behind cover where he could and dispatching those who got too close to him, even going so far as to baton a couple to death as they charged like crazed and wild bantha or a particularly aggressive rancor towards him. Tayln thought them possessed or on drugs of some kind as they shouted out wild battle cries and once they run out of shots attempted to bludgeon any in the way. Including him.

 

Rolling to avoid a barrage of blasterfire, the intelligence operative and soldier picked a shock grenade and threw it as far as he could into the enemy lines. Aiming specifically for the Elite inn a attempt to disorientate him and any around him so Talyn and the troops with him to pick targets off more effectively. He noted the man stood out like a sore thumb, no doubt a commander of some sort. He hoped to offer the Jedi what little assistance he could give for one without such abilities as he possessed. Using his modified Sg-82 sonic rifle, the soldier took several shots, letting loose the electrical cargo towards his target, he knew it wouldn't do much but it would provide a adequate distraction for the Jedi to act.

 

He called into his comlink, even as he did this.

 

"R.U.I.N where are you!? We need you with us ASAP in the Valley of the Dark Lords. We have encountered heavy resistance and could use the heavy artillery assist you guys provide."

Edited by Talyn Orin
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What Sanguis hadn't expected was how caught up in the moments he would become, the eerie enrapture of the Darkside that emitted from Korriban taking subtle strokes. It would flood the minds of the meek with anger and rage, sorrow and fear. And even for the stronger willed, it was blinding. Before he could catch himself, he had been taken hold of by its entangled grasp. His vision became tunneled, and his mind simple. And he never looked or shifted his gaze except forward. Before he knew it, the carnage of war surrounded him.

 

Stopping for a brief moment to catch his breath and settle his mind, the fog of war as thick as soup surrounding them, reality set in as he gazed upon lifeless forms that he stepped upon. Forms, he had led to their deaths and forms he had thrown into the line of fire whether it had been their own or the enemies. Nor could he reasonably call it the will of the Force, as it's will had long not been his own since setting upon this cursed world. No. This was the Darkside, the will of Korriban, and he had let it stray his own to its cause. This entire battle had been its endeavor. 

 

Suddenly, the subtle grace of malicious intent encompassed his mind moments before the barrage of crimson bolts arched at his form, barely enough time to engross his sanity in reaction as he locked eyes with the black and gold armor behind the blaster. His emerald blade spun its course as his empty hand brought up a wall of forceful telekinetic energy that attacked the bolts in redirection. Spinning on his heels, he darted for covered behind a mound of fresh corpses obscured by moment.

 

Fight or flight had taken hold, the value of shock only amplified by the openness of his blue eyes against the scale of his paled skin, blinding him to the covering he chose and the wound he received. Only in the moment of recluse did he realize the sting of the bolts burn beneath the blood of the opposition that covered his robes and the softness of the rock he had dove behind. But by then, the reality had already come to pass and he was stuck in its course. Tears strolled from his eyes and through his nostrils as the reality became harsher in the realization and the truth of the Darkside became apparent. Each were but pawns in its endless game.

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On 11/16/2022 at 11:34 PM, TerrorBot said:

>One moment< Fera beeped. She quickly made her way to the nearest exposed control panel, and moments later, exposed the wirings underneath. Another moment later fusing some of the wires together, she successfully hotwired the doorway to open. 

 

“Rip and tear! Burn and blast!” Ruin shouted for all to hear inside. Now rearmed with his flechette launcher, and Fera clinging tightly to his backside, he charged in. 

 

>I calculate that your best opportunity to take down the turbolaser is to attack the control center. Calculating most likely route. Warning: 98% chance that you will face heavy opposition the entire way< 

 

Ruin laughed. “Let them fight! Let them die!” 

"Fall in! Fall in!" the black and gold commander inside the turbolaser shouted. Before him, the soldiers under his command took up a ragged line. These were fanatics, barely better than dregs, but they could shoot as well as any and they'd die without a thought. He then activated his helmet's communicator with the central command. "Intelligence! Attackers on Battery Three! Confirm!"

 

There was a moment of silence, then the response came. "Confirmed Captain. Intelligence reports one intruder."

 

One?

 

He made a split second decision.

 

"Charge!"

 

Like dogs let off their leashes, the fanatic soldiers tore down the hall, weaving their way towards the entrance, blasters raised and ready to shoot, bludgeon, and beat whatever got in their way to death. Behind them jogged the commander.

 

If they've only sent one operative, then its better to take it out now, not give it time for sabotage. These men of his would charge heedlessly into the enemy. What one operative could stop them?

 

 

On 12/16/2022 at 5:18 PM, Talyn Orin said:

Rolling to avoid a barrage of blasterfire, the intelligence operative and soldier picked a shock grenade and threw it as far as he could into the enemy lines. Aiming specifically for the Elite inn a attempt to disorientate him and any around him so Talyn and the troops with him to pick targets off more effectively. He noted the man stood out like a sore thumb, no doubt a commander of some sort. He hoped to offer the Jedi what little assistance he could give for one without such abilities as he possessed. Using his modified Sg-82 sonic rifle, the soldier took several shots, letting loose the electrical cargo towards his target, he knew it wouldn't do much but it would provide a adequate distraction for the Jedi to act.

 

Caught off guard by the improvised sonic-propelled grenade, the elite commander staggered back as bolts of electricity played off his armor and dropped the soldiers standing nearby to the ground shaking. Furious from the pain and the loss of control of this battle, he raised his blaster to target the offending operative and end him out of pure spite...

 

On 12/18/2022 at 1:18 PM, MSA said:

Suddenly, the subtle grace of malicious intent encompassed his mind moments before the barrage of crimson bolts arched at his form, barely enough time to engross his sanity in reaction as he locked eyes with the black and gold armor behind the blaster. His emerald blade spun its course as his empty hand brought up a wall of forceful telekinetic energy that attacked the bolts in redirection. Spinning on his heels, he darted for covered behind a mound of fresh corpses obscured by moment.

 

...only to fall back in an explosion of red energy as his own, earlier barrage was redirected back at him by the Jedi. Armor, black and gold enamel now scorched to ash, sparked and whined as the internal systems failed, and the commander fell back, lifeless. With screams of confusion, rage, and terror, the zealot soldiers broke formation completely, with some charging while seeming to forget the blasters in their hands, and others running away, or even leaping from the cliff face. Without their commander to act as an anchor, their unhinged emotion sent their minds spiraling out of control.

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“Click Click!” Ruin warned as the sound of fanatics charged down the left hallway. Ruin stepped around the corner, finger already pulling on the trigger. By the time the trigger was fully pulled down, Ruin had already aimed in the general direction of the fanatics. 

 

“Boom!” 

 

The nearest one was unfortunately only a few feet away when the flechettes launched. If the pieces of shrapnel tore through brain matter didn’t kill the first one, the blood loss would very quickly end his life. 

 

As the fanatic fell, the others behind him were undeterred. While they were slightly injured from the flechette blast, they continued to charge and run forward like demons. Ruin laughed. A step forward and he brought the butt of his flechette launcher up to the nearest enemies head, slamming him into the wall. Ruin followed this with another bash, smashing the skull over the durasteel wall. 

 

Ruin spun around and grabbed the next fanatic by the neck and lifted him up. The others had finally regained their composure and began to open fire. Makeshift shield in hand, Ruin charged forward until he slammed into another enemy. Throwing the fanatic forward, the two bodies crumpled on the floor as Ruin continued on. Two more fanatics stood in the way.

 

A few moments later, two more bodies, one decapitated and the other missing both his legs, laid on the floor. 

 

“Guts and guns” Ruin commented as he charged on, fists now caked with blood. 

 

Thanks to Fera’s calculations based on where the fanatics were coming from, Ruin found the command room. The commander didn’t have a chance to draw his weapon. Ruin had moved across the room at lightning speed, and like a previous fanatic, lifted him by the neck. 

 

“Fear and death. Blood and guts” Ruin stated, choking the commander tighter with one arm as he activated a terminal. His original programming was to cause chaos behind enemy lines. Much of his original coding for demoralizing clones seemed to apply here. Displays of violence and gore seemed to inflict the universal language of fear. 

 

The holofeed came to life. An open broadcast to all commanders in the area, including hopefully whoever was in charge of Korriban. That done, Ruin dropped the commander and brought both fists together at the place where his head was. After a splatter of brains and crunch of bones, the body fell over lifeless. 

 

Ruin stayed stoic for a few moments, until the feed cut itself off. 

 

"R.U.I.N where are you!? We need you with us ASAP in the Valley of the Dark Lords. We have encountered heavy resistance and could use the heavy artillery assist you guys provide."

 

Fera had already jumped off Ruin and was manipulating the controls for the Turbolaser, slicing into panels and hacking the giant weapon.

 

>One moment< Fera replied into the comm, pulling a few wires. >I have calculated that your forces are in the rotational range of Turbolaser 3. Advised to fall back 1 click and take cover. Fire will end after 1 minute.<

 

As Fera operated, the turbolasers turned and aimed in the direction of the forces. Giving them some time to fall back per her advise, Fera held off until what she calculated the ideal moment to open fire on the Sith forces that were converging on Agent Orin and the Jedi Sanguis.

 

“Heh, blasters on bashers” Ruin chuckled as the turbolaser opened fire, it’s booming fire echoing inside the building. 

 

>Indeed. Now that we have no need of this turbolaser, I have reconfigured the controls into a feedback loop involving the power loops and plasma gasses. Building will self-destruction in a few minutes. Uploaded possible speeder bikes to your HUD.<

 

Ruin nodded and held a hand for Fera to climb back onto the Terror droid’s body. 

 

“Rip and tear! Speed to lead!” Ruin spoke into the comm to Agent Torin, indicating he would be enroute to his location shortly. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Hysteria had nearly enveloped the Jedi's mind when an unknown hand grasped at his robes from behind the mound of flesh and bone, his gaze blinded by the caking of dust and tears as his form was dragged clear. And the moments remembered were abrupt and unclear.

 

The forms that grabbed him were blurred, only the emotional refuge of passive aggressiveness offering ease to Sanguis's mind. As the shock to his mind reeled his thoughts to reality, the chaos of war sundered the realm into oblivion as hopelessness, fear, hatred, all played into a break of formation, forms of enemies and friendlies alike. Those that lived simply scattered in all directions as large bolts traced across the skies. And in a moment of silence and regression, heated gasses illuminated all sight.

 

When Sanguis came to, the dust of Korriban had begun to settle and the chaos illuminated. Even at the distance of safety, screams of anguish and despair echoed across the valley. Æquitas shook his head, the pain reeling him back to reality as his hand grasped to readjust his posture. Around him were the wounded. And beyond, the fighting still incurred. He could feel the burning flesh of his wounds. And in his hands gripped tightly the emerald blade that he swore his duty upon.

 

A familiar face came into view. It was that of Agent @Talyn Orin. Æquitas yelled out his name as he fought to sit up. Their mission here was not done. Æquitas was not done. Come what may, Korriban had to be won.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Talyn had little idea just what the destructive droid meant but he assumed it to mean he was on the way. He did however understand the other droid with him, it seemed they were to expect a artillery barrage, and so he acted accordingly. Looking up from his position, Taly n noted how his attempted distraction had been far more effective than he thought it would be. Just as he saw the barrels of his enemy line up and about to try and his life, he found his time did not yet come. The Jedi saved him,, a fact he was thankful for. 

 

And so he continued on with the mission as the Jedi yelled to it his name. Informing him that they should take cover, for it was about to rain hellfire.

 

"Thanks for the assist Jedi. He almost had me then, R.U.I.N and the other droid Fera was it? Are en-route. I have been advised of incoming fire from Turbolaser 3 and we must fall back one click to avoid being caught in the range of the artillery barrage which will last approximately 1 minute going from the calculations I was given. I shall assist with the retreat in a fire and retreat movement to safer ground until it stops. Once the area is cleared we can advance again."

 

With that Talyn gave the order, telling the troopers with them to fall back and begin running as fast as they could, they had very little time,  as the first of the barrage begun to rain down in front of them. He shot forwards even as he retreated, attempting to pin down any of the enemy that remained or decided to make a attempt to take them down with them.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Pain drizzled from his body as he stood up from the makeshift bed, rising to his feet as his gaze met that of Orin. The assault had left numerous injured, but alive, with minor casualties. Still, it was more than Æquitas wanted. Reaching out into the Force, Sanguis allowed it to flow inside him and around his injuries, guiding its power and will to nerve endings and pain receptors as he dulled the hindrance of the moment to a barely felt ache. But now was the time for the second assault. Time to truly put himself into play and reset his mind from the fogs of war into the here and now of survivability. 

 

"I agree. Now is the moment to give it everything we've got." Sanguis spoke, his writer ignoring the overlooking of Orin's own to the bombardment having already taken place. With bandages holding back the bleeding wounds of the blaster burns and debris, he was in fighting shape for now, and there was still targets to subdue and capture. As the Allisnce made way from the sky, it was theirs to make way upon the ground. As the Marines made way for the next assaults, Sanguis ignited his emerald crossguarded hilt. "I need to quit thinking as a Jedi and fight like a soldier, lest these deaths grow in vain."

 

And, in the moment, this felt truer to Sanguis. His hesitation, his doubts, had done more damage than good. His memories of Nar Shadaa had left him meek and intimidated. But not now. He stood upon a battlefield with allies dying around him. And his mindframe had only added to the devastation. Even as the doubts and hesitation lingered at the back of his mind, his thoughts of the others came pushed to the forefront of his focus. He would simply have to wait until after to regather himself when the moment of war no longer existed.

 

Stepping out onto the battlefield ahead of Orin and the others, the others behind Sanguis as the rounds continued their assault, hope became apparent even amidst the fogs of war. As the aerial assault gave way to their push toward the center of the conflict, the Sith stronghold became the last target to focus upon. This would be the deciding factor. It would come down to this. This final assault would defind everything. Turning to Orin, he questioned. "How do you want to proceed?"

 

It wasn't a simple question, but Orin was more soldier than Æquitas, and he knew the lay of the land. This stronghold would be unforgiving, as would its Commander @Darth Calypso. Their timing and precision would need to be impeccable. It would be the only way to win Korriban and end this battle. And Sanguis intended on doing just that. Not for the Alliance. Nor for himself. But for those who would never return home. For those who's spirits had now became a part of this darkened world. Only then would their spirits find peace and become one with the Force.

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On 12/22/2022 at 12:09 AM, TerrorBot said:

“Fear and death. Blood and guts” Ruin stated, choking the commander tighter with one arm as he activated a terminal. His original programming was to cause chaos behind enemy lines. Much of his original coding for demoralizing clones seemed to apply here. Displays of violence and gore seemed to inflict the universal language of fear. 

 

The holofeed came to life. An open broadcast to all commanders in the area, including hopefully whoever was in charge of Korriban. That done, Ruin dropped the commander and brought both fists together at the place where his head was. After a splatter of brains and crunch of bones, the body fell over lifeless. 

 

Ruin stayed stoic for a few moments, until the feed cut itself off. 

 

The Home Guard Commander snarled deep in his throat as the holo-feed played. A few moments later, the feed was cut, but not before it had likely been seen by any remaining bulwarks.

 

The rest of the defense was not going well either. The invaders were coordinated, and the Sith had only been left with the most zealous of their forces outside of a few elites. Zealots were good for dying, but unfortunately it seemed that was all they were accomplishing in this battle. The Commander watched as another turbolaser battery fell silent. Then the artillery started up...

 

On 1/17/2023 at 5:18 PM, Talyn Orin said:

With that Talyn gave the order, telling the troopers with them to fall back and begin running as fast as they could, they had very little time,  as the first of the barrage begun to rain down in front of them. He shot forwards even as he retreated, attempting to pin down any of the enemy that remained or decided to make a attempt to take them down with them.

 

The Commander turned on his heel and strode out of the command center. They'd lost the outer defenses. All that was left was the mopping up, and there was no way any remaining troops would be able to retreat to the Praxeum with the invader's controlling the skies.

 

He gestured to his personal guard to follow him. They would join the entrenched squads of Home Guard elites already in place at the grand entrance hall. They would not be able to give Darth Xervatus much more time, but they would give him what time they could.

 

And they would ensure that when the enemy commander walked into the Praxeum, he would do it on a floor of his men's corpses.

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As the barrage of turbo lasers fell over the battlefield, decimating Sith forces with impunity, Ruin and Fera rode towards it. The speeder bike, taken from the base, ran under full power, barely holding the heavy titan that drove it forward. Even as the fire rained down, Ruin continued to drive towards it, laughing the entire way. 

 

“Wreck and maim!” Ruin shouted as he flew into the area just as the barrage of hellfire ended. “Death and destruction! Fear and despair!”

 

Taking one hand off the controls, Ruin retrieved the Hammer from his backside and swung it forward.  The few survivors of the barrage were not ready for the Terror Droid to swoop past them. The first cultist’s head exploded as the hammer connected. The next one barely dodged the swing, but didn’t have a chance to fire back, as Ruin was already driving away towards the next target. Another cultist, wounded from blaster fire, was impaled on the speeder’s frame before falling to the wayside. 

 

Ruin swerved the speeder around and charged the remaining forces once more. Swinging over and over again at the enemies, Ruin continued to splatter blood across the field. While the Soulbreaker Hammer weighed a ton, Ruin seemed to wield the thing effortlessly. The momentum of it’s weight and the speeder bike’s speed combined meant that most enemies meeting it instantly died. The bits of blood and gore dripping from it’s head were evident of it's effectiveness.

 

“Hahaha! Death to the Sith! Hell’s heart fears me!” Ruin laughed as he sped towards Alliance forces.

 

>Located Agent Orin< Fera beeped into Ruin’s audio sensors. >Marked on your HUD<

 

The speeder swerved into a stop before the Agent and the Jedi. The droid quickly jumped off and joined the two, following alongside, hammer in both hands. Now, with solid ground under his feet, he could actually activate the weapon and use its full potential. 

 

“Crush and smash! Directions and guiding's?” Ruin commented, looking to the two. 

 

>Agent, Jedi, we are reporting for duty. What is the next objective?<

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As the turbolaser fire rained hell down upon the enemy in front of them, Tayln Orin likewise concentrated his fire upon those in front, hoping to pin them down and allow the artillery to do it's deadly deed. As the bombardment ended, he observed the carnage before them...bodies lay where they fell. Allies and the enemy entwined and the smell of fresh death filled the air while body parts lay strewn all about. 

 

He never got used to it, but it was part of his job. To bring peace required great sacrifice, from those willing to lay down their lives for freedom and to remove those fanatical enough to resist against the odds. Talyn stepped out, checking to see if the way in front was now clear. It appeared to be the case so he fully stepped out, signalling the squads with them to do the same. He spotted R.U.I.N and Fera, the huge hammer he was holding and the way he entered the area was a dead giveaway. Chaos ensued before quickly subsiding. 

 

Talyn smiled at the Jedi's words, finally he was beginning to understand the true cost it would take to win. 

 

 "I wondered when you would begin to understand. You cannot always rely on your Jedi principles and morals to win, not against these monsters. Not against the Sith.  You must think like a soldier. For our enemy lack what makes us strong. They do not remember the dead, we do. Each has given their lives freely, for a chance at peace and true freedom. Freedom from oppression and tyranny. None are in vain, for we shall see that their lives were not wasted, we shall remove the last evils from this forsaken place. Come, let's descend into the Praxeum and face it's horrors together, for in our unity we shall emerge victorious." 

 

Turning to R.U.I.N and Fera he spoke.

 

 "Thanks for the assist, next we head enter the Praxeum, and clear out the vipers nest. R.U.I.N and you shall go first, scout ahead of our main forces and let us know what to expect. We shall start by clearing the place room by room and move floor by floor if need be. We can't afford to let any Sith fanatics or Sith Lords to escape, the galaxy will pay the price otherwise. If your ready you may proceed, we shall approach behind you. If you need additional support we'll be right there."

 

 Talyn motioned for the troops to move out. Ever since Captain Bryce had been knocked unconscious and taken back aboard a ship to a medical facility, it seemed he had been given unofficial command of the ground contingent. Which he didn't seem to mind, as they kept going he found he became more and more confident in his ability to get them to do as he wanted and to earn their respect. Indeed he found in turn his own respect for the Jedi and the two unusual droids had likewise grown. Advancing, Talyn followed behind the two, knowing chaos would not be far behind. 

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Ruin gave a singular thumbs up towards Agent Orin and returned to his stolen speeder. The machine sagged slightly under the droids weight but managed to stay up with its repulsors. A quick revving on the engine and Ruin took off. 

 

“Smash and crash! Seek and define! Kill all Sith! Corescant’s ruins avenged!” Ruin called out for all to hear, holding the hammer in the air like some kind of battle cry. 

The distance wasn’t too great, and thanks to the turbolaser bombardment, most of the enemy forces had been dealt with. The few stragglers crawling for their lack of legs or dying on the ground were of no matter. 

 

The Praxeum veered into view. The command center for the planet, the pyramid structure looked intimidating to say the least. Its black stone structure pierced the reddish sky like a spear into a living body. What light shined on the world was only absorbed, giving it a night-like color tinted with red. 

 

Ruin continued riding towards it at full speed. Its exterior doors were visible now, between pillars and broken bodies. 

 

“Fear infests. Sith hide” Ruin commented. 

 

>Indeed. However, it does strike rather unusual that there are no outer defenses<

 

Ruin shrugged at Fera’s buzzings. As he got closer to the Praxeum, he swerved the bike and jumped off and charged the door. Several steps and he raised a foot to kick the black stone in.

 

As testament to its original builders, the door shook under the Terror Droid’s kick, but didn’t budge. Ruin raised a hand to the door and felt its smooth exterior, marveling at its handiwork. 

 

“Strong and sturdy” Ruin commented. Then he retrieved his hammer again. A twist of the handle, and the thing buzzed with life, red energy flowing around its cracks as the Kyber crystal was activated. “Fall before me!”

 

>Ruin, wait!> Fera tried to stop the Terror droid, sensing a trap. 

 

But it was too late. Ruin had swung the weapon forward. The hammer connected with the stone and released an energy wave, making the whole building shudder slightly as the door exploded inwards. Such a blow would have taken a Gammorean’s arm off, and even the Terror Droid’s arm joints would need to be recalibrated later. 

The dust hadn’t even start to settle when the Grand Hall lit up with blaster and cannon fire. One lucky cannon shot clipped the Terror Droid’s shoulder and sent him flying backwards, and more fire followed. The hammer fell with a heavy thud in the doorway to the Grand Entrance Hall. 

 

“Gah! Pain and penances!” Ruin declared. He tried to stand, but then discovered the reality that his left arm was at the moment completely useless. The shot had ripped several key joints and wires right out of the body. Already Fera was assessing the damage, who had been luckily on Ruin’s other shoulder. 

 

The Terror Droid didn’t have time to think. Programming dictated to worry about wounds later. Immediate safety was pivotal. With one swift motion, Ruin grabbed the X-Pyre Grenade at his side, activated it and chucked it into the hall. The blaster fire momentarily stopped as a large explosion of blue hot fire lit up the area, caking sections of the room. This moment was all Ruin needed to get up and race to the edge of the doorway, out of view on those inside.

 

“Kriffers and kissers” Ruin cursed, pulling a blaster pistol out. 

 

>Don’t you dare< Fera rebuked the Droid, giving his system a shock with a well placed zap. >Let me get this in working order first, and with the others, we will take them out. Otherwise there is %1.05 chance you will emerge the battle alive<

 

Ruin looked at the small droid and seemed to almost consider going against her words. But instead he nodded. 

 

“Radio”

 

>Quite right< Fera commented as she began welding two broken pieces together. >Agent Orin, Master Jedi, we have made contact. Exterior of building is not as well defended as previously thought, but Grand Entrance hall is heavily fortified. Ruin is injured but will be repaired quickly.<

 

“Suspicions and questions,” Ruin added. 

 

>Agent, something is off about this. If they were hoping for victory, they would have more exterior defenses to hold you back longer. But instead it's more like they are fortifying key points to stall us. Unsure why yet, but you may want to hurry.<

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Orin's words drastically stung as the reality of the moment sunk in. He was a Jedi, not a soldier. And yet, here he was, playing the part of a soldier, his Jedi mentality abandoning him and his fight or flight responses taking over. But there were some truths to the Agent's words, and as hard of a pill as it was to swallow, Sanguis accepted them with a bittersweet thankfulness. There was so much to evaluate and think upon, but now wasn't the time nor the place to do so, so with a nod and lingering words, Æquitas stepped out onto the field of battle once more, a literal leap into the fray.

 

"Let us not dwell upon the difference of philosophy and life." Sanguis spoke, reaching out into the Force and letting it fill his form as he crouched and released the energy, expelling his form forward with intense speed and distance, his words lingering in his departure. " For now, we must fight."

 

Amongst the carnage and debris, most of the defenses seemed to be either struggling to survive or on the verge of death, but some remained active and that was where Æquitas placed his focus. As his form descended through the air upon a group of soldiers firing, his blade found contact and sliced through the Rifle's barrel, Sanguis quickly extending his hand in their direction and sending the troops flying backwards into unconsciousness. For he may have been on the offensive, but it did not require him to kill unless it came to it.

 

Rebounding, Æquitas continued on, allowing what remained of the Unifying Force upon the darkened world of Korriban to aid his endeavor as he sought to free this world once and for all from the corruption of those who wielded the Darkside. Every now and then, Sanguis would look back to see how Orin and those who followed were doing, but his focus was ahead, a massive stone structure atop the Valley of the Sith Lords. It was here that millennia of Sith Lords were raised, and here that he would aid in its ending. This day, the Parexum would fall just as the Jedi who long ago turned their backs upon the Light.

 

Hearing Fera's comm chatter, Æquitas hastened himself, his thoughts upon the enemy and the possibilities they were capable of. Especially if a Sith Lord truly remained upon this planet. As soon as his feet touched the ground once more, he burst into a sprint, his reserves of the Force full from the his previous hesitations. He knew it would not last long, but there were many things he had to make up for this day and he didn't want to lose another comrade this day. Arriving leagues ahead of Orin, he took cover beside RUIN.

 

"Status report?" He questioned, despite the barrage of crimson and emerald plasma bolts firing over head.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Deep below the Praxeum, Darth Xervatus picked his way through a set of winding tunnels. It was interesting, you could see the increasing urgency of the excavation work as you walked along. At first, it was perfect grid of square passages, mathematically precise, clean cut, and reinforced at regular intervals. The floor and walls were swept clean and sanded smooth. Then, the passages stopped following the grid, and instead started to move with the stone instead of through it. Several spots had uneven floors where the workers had taken advantage of existing passages formed by underground streams. Further along, the once clean stone was coated in gradually thicker layers of dust. Just a bit further along, Xervatus had to weave past discarded bits of machinery, left behind where they'd broken. As he neared the end of one tunnel, he had to step over the body of a worker, similarly discarded after he'd broken.

 

"Foreman, report," he called.

 

A boxy DV-supervisor droid waddled up to the elderly Sith Lord.

 

"PER SCHEDULE, WE HAVE REACHED ALL REQUIRED FAULT POINTS. STRUCTURAL READINGS ARE WITHIN EXPECTATIONS. HOWEVER, EFFICIENCY OF EXCAVATION HAS DROPPED BELOW ACCEPTABLE LEVELS. DETONATION OF SEISMIC CHARGES AT THE PRESENT CONDITIONS WOULD ONLY RESULT IN A 47% CHANCE OF MAJOR STRATUM SHIFT. EXCAVATION BY THE INVADERS WOULD STILL BE POSSIBLE."

 

"How much longer do you need?"

 

"WORK FORCE IS DETERIORATING. WITHOUT ADDITIONAL-"

 

"Brief answer, please."

 

"...42 HOURS, AT MINIMUM."

 

"Then we're out of time. 47% will have to be enough. Begin readying the charges. Have the other preparations I requested been completed?"

 

"AFFIRMATIVE. ALL REQUESTED MATERIALS HAVE BEEN ENCASED IN CARBONITE."

 

"Good, at least that's on track. Have the detonation code sent to my commlink, I'll detonate once I receive the signal from you that everything is ready. My chamber should be just beyond here?"

 

"AFFIRMATIVE." If the droid had an opinion of Xervatus openly stating he would bury him and his entire workforce alive, it didn't show it.

 

This was their plan. Or rather, this was Xervatus' plan. The calculations to pull this exact stunt off had been lengthy, but if they were right then Xervatus could bury the Praxeum out of reach of these rebels. With seismic charges set in precise locations, they could fracture the very bedrock down to a nearby fault line. The tunnels beneath the Praxeum would collapse, but the building above would seem unharmed...at first. The newly unstable ground would move with the fault line, and if Xervatus was right, the Praxeum would begin to sink as the planet swallowed it up over the course of several hours. Too slow to take any invaders with it, but it would deny them the prize they'd fought so hard to take, along with all the lore and relics still contained inside. Excavating it would be a difficult prospect with the ground so unstable, as any attempt to dig out the Praxeum would hopefully just result in it sinking deeper. It would take a major effort, and even then Xervatus had been determined to spite the invaders. Most of the valuable materials had been moved into these very tunnels, and sealed in carbonite to preserve them. A trained Sith might be able to detect them, but to most scanners they would just be indistinguishable bits of metallic rubble swallowed with the Praxeum.

 

Now, maybe the invaders would commit the resources necessary to undo Xervatus' plot, but even then he wondered if they'd truly be able to find everything he'd scattered.

 

Or if they'd be able to find him?

 

He wasn't planning on dying here. He would encase himself in carbonite just before the detonation, and wait for the Sith to return to Korriban.

 

The Sith always returned.

 

_______________________________

 

On 2/7/2023 at 1:53 AM, TerrorBot said:

>Ruin, wait!> Fera tried to stop the Terror droid, sensing a trap. 

 

But it was too late. Ruin had swung the weapon forward. The hammer connected with the stone and released an energy wave, making the whole building shudder slightly as the door exploded inwards. Such a blow would have taken a Gammorean’s arm off, and even the Terror Droid’s arm joints would need to be recalibrated later. 

The dust hadn’t even start to settle when the Grand Hall lit up with blaster and cannon fire. One lucky cannon shot clipped the Terror Droid’s shoulder and sent him flying backwards, and more fire followed. The hammer fell with a heavy thud in the doorway to the Grand Entrance Hall. 

 

“Gah! Pain and penances!” Ruin declared. He tried to stand, but then discovered the reality that his left arm was at the moment completely useless. The shot had ripped several key joints and wires right out of the body. Already Fera was assessing the damage, who had been luckily on Ruin’s other shoulder. 

 

The Home Guard Commander snarled, trandoshan features twisted into what might seem like an expression of hostility to those not familiar with his species. And while he was undeniably hostile, that wasn't the reason for the expression.

 

He felt alive.

 

It had been a long time since he'd been in the field on the front lines. He'd forgotten how much he'd enjoyed it.

 

They'd driven back the first invader to poke their head in, a droid by the looks of it. If they hadn't already, they'd soon learn just how devastatingly effective this strong point was. The entrance hall was wide open in the center, and the artistic sculptures and statues that had once occupied its center had been blasted to rubble to provide a clear firing line. Sandbag emplacements replaced them, each manned by a heavy weapons team with their guns trained on the door. An elevated platform ran around the edges of the room, originally intended to hold monuments to ancient Sith Lords, but now served as a firing line by the Commander's best troops, crouched behind makeshift barricades while training standard blaster rifles on the doorway.

 

One way in. Heavy weapons emplacements scattered across the entire hall. A firing line on three of the four walls. It was a killbox. They might take them, but the Commander intended to make sure they paid for it.

 

Still...they had Jedi with them. And the only Sith they had was down below. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Ruin grunted as he peaked around the corner and, with his good arm, fired a few shots with the blaster pistol that almost looked comically small in his large hands.While it was capable for military use, it certainly didn’t lend itself to the power that the Terror Droid was used to. 

 

“Blastors and bombs!” Ruin cursed as he pulled back to avoid a series of return fire shots. Fera, jostled from her position, buzzed angrily. 

 

>Stay still please< she ordered. >Reattaching your shoulder joints and servo motors is proving to be more difficult than i initially expected. Expected fix time is…<

Fera didn’t get to finish, as this was the moment that the Jedi arrived. 

 

“Status Report?”

 

Ruin and Fera both paused looked at the Jedi. Despite being droids, they did give off a look of oddity, as if they were wondering if what was obvious to them wasn't to the organic. 

 

“Blasters and blasters and cannons” Ruin grunted while pointing his tiny blaster towards his non-functioning arm. sparks frew from the broken joint as Fera continued to work on it

 

>Indeed. Resistance inside is much more intense than expected. While we were able to break into the building, we suffered injuries. However, near functionality will be restored in…<

 

“Blocking and bashing!” Ruin interrupted, pointing at the Jedi. “Slice and dice! Wizard magic! End all the Sith!”

 

Fera nodded as her torch continued to fuse two pieces of metal together. >My ward does have an excellent point. My internal records show that the Jedi are experts at providing defensive cover with both blade and the Force. Unless our forces have some sort of shielding devices, you may be the best option to getting a foothold inside. From my scans, this main entrance hall is wide and open, but further in it will become extremely close quarters.<

 

“Rip and tear!” Ruin roared in agreement.  

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Taken stood behind what cover was provided as he listened to the massive droid and his smaller companion access the situation and offer input. It looked as though the larger droid had sustained some significant damage which did not pose well for the team in the current situation at hand. They would need his might sooner or later..but they needed more time for repairs.

 

Time which wasn't a possibility under the circumstances.

 

Instead they would have to improvise a bit. It was true that a Jedi was better suited for close quarters and perhaps evening the playing field,  but he knew they were far from invincible either. He had seen both Jedi and Sith succumb before now. 

 

 "This is true, but they are not indestructible. How much longer do you think you need for repairs? We are gonna need the firepower in a moment or so. Best suggestion I have is provide cover and try to allow for a opening that our Jedi friend here can exploit. Although I wouldn't take too long, something seems off about all this...it's like they are diverting us or stalling. Corelling us only where they want us to be. But why I don't know. It doesn't bode well either way, I would suggest whatever we plan to do, we do it fast.

 

I have one shock grenade left and two flash bangs, I'll throw one flash and provide cover with the others, see if that don't disoriente them a bit so Knight Equitas here, can do what his best at and give us a opening to advance proper. We need to take out those replacements or our troops are gonna get swamped first step inside we take".

 

Talyn awaited a reply, hoping the Jedi would agree with the assessment and go with the plan as it stood. Either way he was cautious about the situation, something definitely didn't feel right.

 

Firing around the door, he let off a few pop shots hoping to at least reduce the opposition while they discussed the next steps.

 

 

 

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Sanguis shook his head behind the covering they had found, his questioning having been lost in translation as the two droids began rambling on about their predicament. That wasn't what he had meant. His questioning had been more focused on RUIN, not the battle. He had eyes. He could see the battlefield, and what he couldn't see, he could feel in the Force. Despite the miscommunication, the droids did bring up a valid point. Sheer will has gotten them this far, but with the three heavy weapons emplacement, it would be an unholy hellfire to put out when they made their first footing into the killbox. 

 

He delved into the currents of the Force as Talyn arrived, following its flow across the battlefield and into the emotions and thoughts of those who opposed them. To describe what it felt like, one would have to understand the sentient mind. Most stood guarded when it came to deeper thoughts like secrets and intent. Especially when they knew a Jedi lurked close by. Even a subtle push to find them out would alert his presence and they would shut down mentally. But in the heat of the moment, where emotions ran high, subtle thoughts of pure randomness could betray them. Especially the weaker minded.

 

Sanguis nodded his head in approval at @Talyn Orin after he finished speaking. The moment was coming up, and Sanguis had found a couple of weak spots in their Defenses. Their was a hint of reluctance in mind, but this was war and the casualties had made their choice long ago. In their unfocused emotions, their intent had became known. Their hatred toward the Alliance and the Jedi had spelled their doom this day. They couldn't be saved even if they were left breathing. With a sigh, Sanguis prepared himself. For the second Agent Orin acted, all hell would break loose.

 

And it did.

 

As the Imperial Agent let loose his volley of grenades, red bolts of fire let loose toward their location, shaking hands and twitching fingers firing in random patterns as the disorientation took holds of their minds. All it took was a little strength in the Force, and a little suggestion, and mind's became subjugated. Rifles turned inward toward the Heavy Weapons Placements and chaos ensued as friendlies became foes. This presented the trio a moment of respite and opportunity. One Sanguis took full advantage of.

 

Emerald blade ignited, he spun it as he crossed the threshold, stray Blaster bolts being redirected amongst their opposition with precision while Sanguis let loose his own volleys of pushes and pulls through the Force. His intent was to completely disorient these villains in the chaos they sought to sow, and provide a subtle victory this day. He only hoped the other two could keep up.

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>Arm is now 80% functional. I'd advise not using that hammer when powered as it could damage your shoulder further< Reported Fera, unable to do any other further repairs in the time limit given. She crawled away from the shoulder onto Ruins backside and positioned herself in a safe position, preparing for the combat about to occur. 

 

Ruin tested his fixed arm, clenching his fist and releasing like a human would after surgery. He then followed this by slamming the nearby wall with it, creaking some cracks in the black stone. 

 

“Groovy” Ruin commented and nodded to the others. He was ready. 

 

The grenades were thrown. The Jedi charged. The blaster fire changed direction. 

 

“Rip and Tear!“ Ruin declared as he charged, stopping only to grab the Hammer he had dropped earlier. 

 

In the chaos of blaster fire, Ruin moved like the terror droid he was. His model was built for causing terror in the battle lines. To destroy morale and to cause chaos to the best well laid plans the enemies created. Here, Ruin metaphorically shined like he had just come off the assembly line.

 

Five steps forward, a leap over a pile of sandbags, and a swing. A soldier went flying into a wall with 7 broken ribs and a pair of crushed lungs. Three steps over. Ruin swung wildly, hammer colliding with another soldier’s head. One step forward. Ruin swung and let go of the hammer, the impromptu ballistic missile hitting a soldier on a turret on an upper level, sending him flying to his death. Another soldier turned to the droid. A step forward, a grip on the throat and leg, and a throw sent the man flying. Several steps, and Ruin was at the steps, behind several soldiers. Ruin raced upwards. The man at the top received a knee to the groin and two fists to the head, crushing the skull entirely. 

 

Ruin was at the turret now. The chaos created by the Jedi and the agent’s grenades was proving effective. The Sith hadn’t even mounted a proper reaction to him yet. While the original user of the turret was behind ruin, crushed by his thrown hammer, a new user was manning it. Ruin simply grabbed him and kicked him head first off the edge. 

 

The turret was heavy duty to say the least. A modified repeater blaster connected directly into a power bank nearby. The gun easily weighed 50 lbs and had to be mounted on a tripod in order to be used effectively, and the power bank another 20 lbs.

 

Ruin, who never cared about the weight of certain objects unless he was using them as a blunt weapon, picked the think up. With a slice from his vibro blade in his wrist, he disconnected the gun from  the tripod and hoisted the thing up. One hand at the trigger, one hand near the barrel, Ruin turned the gun towards the enemy troops. 

 

“Violence! Fear! The great communicators!” Ruin shouted as he opened fire. Ruin did not stop holding the tigger at any point, letting shot after shot ring out. So many shots fired that the gun had started to heat up. Had Ruin been a human, he would’ve burned his hands, but being made of wires and metal, he felt nothing. Instead he only laughed from his perch. 

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