Kashyyyk

[Aira Cadan]

I was just heading back to the main area, noting that most of the Jedi had left the planet now, when my comm chirped. I got a sense of foreboding in the Force, and grimacing, I checked it. The message that followed caused my jaw to drop. CoreSec officers, assassinating Remnant Moffs' sons? What the kriff was the Galactic Alliance thinking? Had things really gone so far that they would have ordered their people to start a war like this? Especially in light of the threat from the Sith, it made absolutely no sense. Unless that senator was stirring things up again.

 

I sent a quick response back to Raven, letting her know that I'd investigate immediately. I was really glad she was still willing to try to work this out, although...I sighed. Unless the GA proved unequivocally that this had been the actions of rogue agents, it seemed war was almost inevitable.

 

Changing channels, I commed Aelyn, asking her to meet me at the Open Road. We needed to head back to Coruscant. The higher-ups had some explaining to do. Making my way to the ship took little time, and I was onboard before Aelyn arrived. Not wanting to mess up her ship, I merely started the warm-up process, then sat down at the comm unit to make a few more calls.

[Aelyn]

Deciding to follow Skye, Aelyn listened in on what she was saying but couldn't even begin to make heads or tails of it. She needed a lot more context before she could weigh in, but it seemed clear that there was a lot happening on Onderon and with Faust. Master Trevelian at least seemed totally convinced that Faust was really back, which wasn't good news for anyone. The public had barely been made aware of how dangerous he had become before his defeat at the Coruscant Memorial and just how close he had come to causing an untold level of destruction. Aelyn had been on Coruscant at the time, too, so close to the epicenter. The idea of just suddenly dying meaninglessly bothered her, and if Faust was really loose that was an actual possibility for people across the galaxy.

 

She was formulating a question for Skye when her comm beeped. She stepped out to answer it, then a moment later shut it off and poked her head back into the cockpit. "Sorry Master Skye, but Master Cadan says we need to go back to Coruscant. More politics no doubt," she explained. "I hope we can still do those healing lessons next time we cross paths."

 

With that the redhead said goodbye to the twins and put her hand gently on Tirzah's for a moment before departing the shuttle and heading back for the Open Road parked nearby. "Hi Master," she said when she boarded. "Ready to leave? You can fill me in on what happened on the way."

 

She quickly completed the takeoff cycle and soon they bid farewell to Kashyyyk, heading coreward.

[Skye Organa]

“Indeed. Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do about Onderon right now. We can only hope the Sith are as against Faust's return as we are."

Skye sighed with regards to Onderon, “No. We can only hope that they are. I must admit that I’m not all that sure what went on while I was unconscious but something tells me this Dark Lord will bear watching carefully. Xae and I met him briefly and while Tenebris wasn’t too pleased, I was quick to take Lord Exodus up on his offer to let us go, otherwise I feel we would have become their ‘guests’. There is something different about him.” She listened as Darex continued and agreed, “Yes, I’ll begin the next leg of this search on Coruscant.” The Healer glanced at the files Darex sent onto her and shook her head, glancing up at Aelyn, “He’s been very busy. Coruscant, Corellia, Onderon. I wonder where else he has been and what he’s been up to.” Skye could feel the urgency in the Force and voiced her agreement before adding, “Yes I’ll let you know Darex. May the Force be with You too.”

 

Aelyn’s comm beeping brought her gaze back to the young woman, an idea formulating as the Padawan spoke, "Sorry Master Skye, but Master Cadan says we need to go back to Coruscant. More politics no doubt. I hope we can still do those healing lessons next time we cross paths." Skye nodded her head, “We can meet on Coruscant as I’ll be heading there as well. I’d love to meet Master Cadan and you are welcome to access my holo library and have lessons whenever you like. What I might do is give you and your Master the information I have on Faust. Since you will be mediating between the GA and the Imperial Remnant, they should be informed of what Faust has been up to. I will speak with…” Glancing at another report her eyes widened slightly before she continued, “Supreme Commander Tenebris E’lann. I still have to speak with him regarding Onderon so I will fill him in on the rest as well. May the Force be with You Aelyn.” Skye signaled to I-Nine to forward the information to Aelyn and then rested a hand on the girl’s arm in farewell before following her back into the infirmary. As the young Padawan left the Healer watched as the Trevelian’s droid fussed over the twins. “We’re going to head to Coruscant now so once we’re underway I’ll make us all dinner.” Her gaze fell onto Tirzah, wondering what was happening with the girl’s mind and hoping that it wouldn't be too long before she was whole again. I-Nine was already running through the pre-flight checklist and was almost done when Skye reached the cockpit. Following protocol the Healer asked and was granted permission for departure Serenity soon lifting off and rising above the canopy, headed for space. Once they cleared the planet, she adjusted the navi computer, soon sending them shooting into hyperspace on their way to Coruscant.

[Adenna Alluyen]

Adenna smiled slightly at Tobias' speech and actions. It was endearing to see how he could be tender when he wanted. She wanted to take the time here to enjoy and savor this, but he was still quite the mess. Whatever he went through while she waited for the Council had left its mark and, at least from her initial impression, it might be a good one. Alas, one can't avoid the effects of as much alcohol that he consumed without some serious help. He was decidedly in need of some fluids and a bit of a pick me up.

 

She reached down, placed her hands on his temples, and, drawing the Force to her, sent some healing energy throughout his body. She sped up his liver's processing of the alcohol and refreshed his energy and mind. Without the nanites she had in her to more directly deal with the alcohol, he would still be feeling a hangover, but at least it wouldn't be so bad. She would make sure he got himself hydrated on the trip to Nal Hutta. It definitely wouldn't do to have him not at his best in that fight.

 

When she finished, she kissed him gently on the forehead and tasted the saltiness of his sweat. Whatever he had been doing, it had taken a toll on his body, too. "I have been given authorization to assist the Imperials on Nal Hutta along with two other Knights. They are meeting us in orbit, so I think it is best to get you cleaned up and on your way to recovery, that is, if you still intend on joining me. I am not sure what your plans are in that aspect."

[Tobias Vos]

It was so nice to just relax. They were so hard to come by anymore, just relaxing... and there she was- some people had the beaches, some cantinas, some even spice, or the stars, or flying, or whatever the person wanted to do to find their own sense of peace. Tobias laid back and just made small talk with the beauty beside him. Long since giving the the order to lift off to Carida he spoke at length with Adenna- they would venture to Carida to start off Tobias' task and schemes- and then hope they weren't too late to free the slaves in the Remnant Operation.

[Delta73]

Invasion Shot Request On the Planet Kashyyyk (Level 3)

 

Following the plan laid out below:

Black Sun Fleet and PCs: HERE (Reinforcements arrived: HERE)

Sith Fleet and PCs:HERE

Total AP on field: 23

Fighter and Bomber plan: HERE (Participants: Delta, Montar, Darksong)

Fleet Plan: HERE (Participants: Sheog, Exodus)

Ground Invasion plan: HERE (Participants: Bolt, Terra, Rose, Saint, Lysander, Borsk, Zalis)

[Ary the Grey]

Well, this is the first time this has happened, and I'm going to talk about a few things as opposed to just saying that it was successful and mentioning losses. Firstly, the planning request thing in space is/was unnecessary. The only thing required is the post above to make the official request, which was awesomely done with linking all the setup posts into the request. That is the gold standard, right there. I like the plan you guys had, but to be frank with the amount of forces you brought to the party, the Wookiees never stood a chance even if you had no solid plan. That being said, I think the proper narrative should go as follows:

 

The Sith and Black Sun fleets overwhelm the meager space defenses Kashyyyk can mount against them. While the Wookiees do fight to the bitter end, sacrificing larger numbers to score several smaller victories against the amassed fleet, the attrition is too high in the face of a well-organized and planned strike. The Totenkopf and Doomhandle are both destroyed, but to their masters they were merely necessary sacrifices to achieve the greater goal of control of Kashyyyk. There are also myriad other losses to fighter squadrons and NPC armies, but with control secured, both groups should have the time to lick their wounds and replenish smaller assets before their next major engagement. Should others wish to crash your party in the immediate aftermath, that might be a consideration in the ensuing fight, but the chances of that are slim to none.

 

<>

[Rose Cariadus]

As the warmly welcomed shuttle descended over the dark orb of the nightside of the planet of Kashyyyk, Rose sat in the cargo bay of the bulky shuttle her eye on the red light at the cargo hatch. All around her, packed like nerfs enroute to a slaughter house, were the mercenary units of the Black Sun. All wore jump packs or jet packs and were heavily armed. Most looked as nervous as she was, their hands holding tight the straps of their packs or polishing vibroblades to pass the time. From the rumbling that echoed through the darkly lit cargo bay, the ship had hit atmosphere and had began its landing run to the capital of Rwookrrorro.

 

The cargo bay shook as it was buffeted by the thick humid atmosphere over the Wookiee capital city. Rose had nearly memorized the whole affair, the jump, the breach, the firefight, she had run through it so many times in her own mind since setting off in front of the fleet. She wasn’t spectacularly nervous, she hadn’t done a HALI jump like this before, but the concerns usually associated with such a jump were not primary in her mind. The jetpacks and jump packs were reliable enough and the HUD readouts on all of their enclosed helmets would give them the precise time to ignite their packs. She had seen it work a bunch of times on the holos, and she was confident in her ability to perform a High Altitude Low Ignition jump. Unlike the human male on the jumpseat besider her. He was shaking like a twig before a calamari gale. Poor thing would definitely not make it through the night. She reached over and patted his knee comfortingly.

 

The only light in the cargobay turned yellow which was mimicked on the mission data display on their HUDs. Wind howled through the bay as the large double doors slid open below their jumpseats. She looked up at the man beside her.

 

“You gunna be ok mate?”

 

His name badge read Kolibri which marked him as the Kuati playboy mercenary she had seen at the bar. This was no place to play at a first mission. He nodded slowly and she could see him smile unconvincingly through the lit up T-visor of his helmet.

 

“Stick with me ok? I'll get you through.”

 

Green

 

The twenty men and women in mandalorian iron dropped from their jumpseats in a silent cascade into the thick, humid air below. She fell alongside the younger Terra and Kolibri and together they descended the thousands of feet towards the planet’s surface and the shield generator. The HUD picked up several red lined forms of wookiee guards or wookiees in general. The “Ping” of a slug thrower signaled their doom.

 

Rose activated her jet pack for a double post and like Valkyries they landed outside the complex. Twenty strong, they alighted through the treetop walkways until they were outside the generator complex. Four guards stood strong in the rear entrance blast door. Rose signaled the group to stop and take positions, as a group they fired, the mass of slugs and blaster bolts enough to kill the group and signal their arrival to the galaxy.

 

One breaching charge later and Rose stood in the shattered doorway with Kolibri, guarding their retreat against what would soon become innumerable odds.

 

Kad Ha'rangir would be pleased by this.

[LiveDieLiveAgain]

"I hate HALI jumps."

 

Borsk grumbled as he looked about the bay of the packed shuttle, hoping incoming rounds from the planet wouldn't destroy his ships. His squadmates bore a mix of expressions, fear, grim determination, and a few happy smiles dreaming of the glory of battle and the lure of splattering death. The credit and the lovers of war had gathered together, the dangerous 'scum of the galaxy' never to be welcomed amongst those who believed themselves better, the cursed Jedi and iron-handed Imperials. Borsk shook his head as the human whom he had been speaking with before the call comforted a green recruit, too kind in these dangerous times, the mark of death seeming to hover over the frightened mercenary. One of the others began to ask the tall Trandoshan about his thoughts on the jump, a small holo recorder in hand, before an annoyed growl cut him off. Undeterred, the man turned away, recording his own thoughts as the jump approached.

 

The jump point arrived, the group barreling out and decending toward the surface, jet packs begging slow them as the ground approached, dodging between the massive trees common to the famous planet. The guards outside the the generator building were quickly gunned down, the group landing around the area in an awkward bunch. Borsk slammed heavily into the grounds, his massive feet firming planting against the trees bark, his heavy repeater gun out and ready. As the group guarding the door fell, Borsk pushed forward, stacking first against the door as the breeching charge was planted. He quickly switched to his shotgun, readying as the peices of shattered door flew backward. First into the breach, Borsk took a round from a UR-G8 pistol from a Wookie on a seemingly random patrol, his leg knocked backward by the force as he went down on a knee. The wookie quickly fell, gunned down by the squad, and Borsk pushed back to his feet, limping but ready for another fight.

 

"Blood and credits."

[Terra]

Terra adjusted the formfitting Beskar’gam as she slipped into the assault shuttle alongside the mercenaries. She had bid Delta goodbye, and for now she would be clanless once more. From behind her HUD, she observed the mercenaries beside her, all of them Mandalorian Supercommandos, trained to be deadly. She let out a small sigh as she settled into the jumpseat, nodding to the others, recognizing the patterns and colours of other clanless

 

We are all Kyr'tsad.

 

Her HUD flipped through the assault plan for the shield generator for the Wookiee capital, her greysteel eyes taking in the dossiers for each of the squadmates. There were twenty of them tasked with the mission, and all of them had combat experience in one form or another. She had the greatest number of confirmed kills, but that mattered little in squad tactics. The assassin caressed the handle of her flechette rifle, letting the leather bindings find their grip on her gloves. It would never match the efficiency of her lost revolvers, but it would still shred a Wookiee into fractured, lifeless flesh.

 

A hunger settled into her stomach, gnawing at the protein based meal she had consumed back onboard The Marie. She recognized it as the unity of Sheog’s battlemind, and returned its hunger with a smile. The more death they fed the connection, the stronger it would unify them. The Mad Wyrm had a talent for such things, and she could feel her muscles yearn for combat, and her attention focusing on her task. A ravenous wave crested over her vision, and she watched each of her teammates modify their posture in their seats. She could almost taste the deaths to come

 

...Udesii Terra, don’t let it overcome your mind, your own sense of self…

 

As the shuttle detached itself from the Sith and Black Sun Fleet, she opened up her voice comms to the squad. She slammed her knuckles into the jumpseat in a rhythm familiar to any Kyr'tsad. The Rage of the Shadow Warriors, a song as old as the culture itself, and one sung throughout the millennia before every war. Her voice was filled with an undertone of nerves as she started the first verse

 

“Taung sa rang broka Mando'ade ka'rta…”

 

The rest of the squad picked up the song, pounding the metallic plating and sounding the chant, each voice unique, but blending together in a chorus. The song faded with the thrill of adrenaline, the voices gone, but the heartbeat in her ears pounded its rhythm as the shuttle slipped through the atmosphere. The ride was far from smooth, the forests of Kashyyyk sending up a variety of air currents that buffeted them as the they flew. The pilot’s young voice chirped in her ears

 

“High Speed, Low Drag. Get ready to drop boys and girls. Ryachukchuk or whatever those furrballs call it is coming up, and I’d rather not kill us by slamming into a shield.”

 

The tops of the trees flew past as the cargoramp lowered. Terra stood, adjusting her jetpack, checking the fuel supply and structural integrity. She had no interest on exploding on takeoff. Her HUD showed a glowing arrow above the shield generator, signifying the squad’s objective. She held her breath and jumped alongside the others. Gravity grasped at her lithe form as she fell through the atmosphere, the viridescent treetops coming towards her in a rush. The squad activated their jetpacks in unison, with a quick burst to modify direction, but not enough to release an energy signature for the Wookiees to discover them. Terra slipped a silenced slugthrower from her holster as they descended

 

They angled their fall towards a treelined path, with a pair of wookiees upon it who were carrying several bags. One of them had a kit snuggled into her arms according to the heat signatures. She compensated for their descent pattern and let loose two shots from the silenced weapon. The subsonic slugs punched holes through the optical ridge of the Wookiee couple, entering the skull at a weakspot, but without enough velocity to punch out the skull. The bullets ricocheted around the skulls like it was the ball in a game of Chin-Bret. The two bodies fell, and she let off another shot as they approached, catching the awakening kit in the center of mass. That bullet emptied out the internal organs, which, along with the bullet splattered into the Wroshyr tree that held up the path. A few splinters fell to the path alongside the lifeless bodies, and the squad landed together.

 

Terra looked at the streams of crimson blood that gushed from the Wookiee’s faces, their expressions frozen forever mid conversation. Bits of juvenile furr clung to the wooden railing. She nodded to the rest of them and they set off down the path towards the Shield generator, keeping to the shadows. The crunch of bark under their boots was a muffled echoe in the still morning air. Through her buy’ce, Terra could smell the spiced sap of the scarred Wroshyrs that lined the shield generator, the ever encroaching forest in an eternal war against the machines and their beastly masters.

 

The lithe assassin kept her pistol unholstered at the prepared position, but allowed her compatriots to terminate the gaurds with their quickfire. She watched the twitching bodies fall and braced her armoured frame against the permecrete wall as the breaching charge was set and detonated. The scattering rounds of blasterfire rang through the air and she winced as she saw the Trandoshan fall. She had no fondness for the Reptilian creatures or their religion, but she slipped beside him as he rose. With a gloved hand she investigated the scaled leg of the lizard-man, Borsk, if her memory served her right.

 

The scales were ripped away by the singing heat of the blaster, but it seemed largely superficial. All the same, she slapped a bacta-bandage over the wound after a quick spray from the antiseptic wand. Trandoshans had regenerative properties, but she did not desire to let him die from an infection on a hostile world. She gave the beast a nod, indicating he could return to action,

 

“Scorekeeper has your favour, Borsk.”

 

She slipped beyond the doorway with the rest of the team, her attention returning to the battle at hand. They were met by a sharp turn ahead into the facility, and a team of Wookiees was hastily assembling a Mark II canon to defend it. She placed a few shots into the nearest wookiee with her pistol but he failed to fall. She snarled out a recommendation

 

“Saint, let’s hit them with something with a more substantial firepower!”

[Lysander0301]

Once Lysander meet up with the rest of the unit, he gathered his equipment from the two droids. With a bid farewell he sent the droid off back to the ship with orders to keep it on standby in the event things went to far south. With some distain on his face, he looked over his fellow mandalorian squad mates. To him the group looked like a parade of mismatched colors and symbols, each with expression ranging from calm and cool to fear and dread. Sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd, a disgruntled trandoshan took his spot on the shuttle and growled away all that spoke to him. Not a team player thought Lysander as he too found a quite spot to wait while the shuttle descended into orbit.

 

The jump itself came up and went about as smooth as expected, not bad for his first time outside of a SIM. As the group gathered up and made their way to the facility, guards were taken out with ease by other members of the squad. A big gun deserved big targets and now was not Lysander’s time. Once the charges were set and the door blown off its hinges the squad flooded in with a few staying behind to guard the escape route. Deeper in the faculty they went and meet with heavier resistance as expected. A hail of blaster fire rained from both side and down went to trandoshan. A flesh wound to the leg would mean nothing to the trandoshan in the end , but immediate treatment was necessary as a yellow and orange mandalorian tended to the wound.

 

Rounding yet another corner was yet another surprise in the form of a Mark II cannon. With the scream of more fire power, Lysander did not need orders to come toward. With the aim of his DLT-19, Lysander opened fire onto the gun team. The DLT-19 roared to life with blaster fire as it shredded the two Wookiees closest to the the cannon and damaging the set up. A third Wookiee had been hit and fell to the ground roaring in pain; while the others scurried away from the cannon. As long as Lysander keep up fire near anything the moved near the cannon it wouldn’t be a problem. Lysander left the Wookiee on ground to lay there in pain, maybe he could use it as bait for any wanna be hero’s. With the cannon cleared the squad moved deeper in the faculty with Lysander and others leading first with heavy firepower.

[Zalis Krales]

Zalis watched from a tactical screen on The Marie as those who were far better suited at combat, had their feet on the ground and making large scale attacks in locations all over the forest covered planet. She watched them very carefully and then sought out something that was far better for the teams to collect. She sent a quick page comlink message to all of the agents on the surface of the planet.

 

"Agents, Okikuti, Chenachochan and Ittummi. Those are high value target cities. They all have resources that would make this occupation and take over worth it long term. Please make those a top priority targets. Zalis Out."

 

Zalis then turned towards a screen to help move other funds to clear room for items taken in from Kashyyyk.

[Sheog the Mad]

Karema eyed the young girl warily, his gaze alight in burning sulphur. Her stance was, like her person, uneasy, filled with self-doubt. He could feel the rumble of the ship beneath his silken boots as it exited hyperspace. A creeping hunger wrapped its way around his icy heart.

 

“Do you feel it? Our master’s clarion call?”

 

He brought his lustrous boot to hook beneath the girl’s knee tossing her to the ground. He brought her immediately back to stance with the Force. The girl’s body was a puppet and he held the strings. He forced her stance to deepen and strengthen, forcing her muscles to work unbidden.

 

“Come from strength… Never stand with unease or fear…”

 

He licked his pale, thin lips with a pink tongue

“You are the predator, not prey. You are master. Not slave. Hold your form and do not yield!”

 

He approached swinging his blade lazily at her head

 

 

As the Sith Fleet and its allies dropped from hyperspace over Kashyyyk, Sheog considered its appearance. It appeared as a sparkling jewel set into the darkness of space, radiating with reflected light and a deep sense of life in the force. The Mad Hutt was fully open to the designs of the Force, and it buffeted his mind like a storm. It was a cacophony of emotions drawn from everywhere, pulling him in every direction. Sheog placed a shaking hand upon the comforting, gnarled handle of his briar-wood pipe, bringing the well-worn bit to his soggy lips. A deep breath brought the taste of Anderan Tobacco, spiced with Bravia Latika. As it filled his lungs with the sharpness of nicotine, The Lord of the Krath began to draw the minds of all about him together.

 

He knitted the minds of those aboard the Bleeding Kyber as if he were assembling a grand tapestry. The slaves and the soldiers were easy to absorb into his own consciousness, sharp focus on direct tasks was easy, but the Lords of the Sith were far more difficult to bring together. The Mad Hutt’s crimson visage narrowed as he beckoned all to unity in the battlemind. So many directions, so many desires. So much power pulling in separate direction, selfish threads that desired to misdirect or deceive.

 

...No wonder Exodus is so often exhausted… These Sith are unwilling to join together for common purpose. It’s like herding strills…

 

He breathed out a long puff from the pipe, the shadowy smoke enveloping him. To be Sith was to crave power, and he had to guide them to the strength of unity. His weaving brought the minds of the masters together, not by overpowering them, but offering them the strength that would help them overcome their enemies.

 

Each craft would be brought into the battlemind, their pilots and crew foused, a creeping hunger entwining them to feast on those they brought low. The ships assembled themselves into formation, moving in unity, awaiting instruction. Sheog did not grasp onto the power himself, the minds of so many would consume him, and he used himself as a focusing crystal for the battlemind, much akin to the crystal in his own lightsaber. He spread the threads of the tapestry through the ship itself, using it as a loom to direct the threads together. He could not allow himself to overwhelm the connection.

 

To the individual Sith which had come with them, he offered the gift in turn, for them to enter into or to turn away. He would not force those like Darksong, Quietus, or the Dark Lord himself into such a thing, unless they desired it. They would be welcome, and would have much influence over the tapestry, to direct its pattern. The Hutt’s hands continued to tremble as he reduced himself to allow for the others. It was almost an impossible task, to direct this orchestra of death to its task, but he was capable of it.

[Delta73]

The massed squadrons dropped out of hyperspace near the clear green homeworld of the Wookiee species. Much like over seven decades before, the Republic 3rd fleet had exited hyperspace into the middle of a trade federation blockade during the final campaign of the Clone Wars. This time Delta was on the opposite side. The irony grated on his seldom felt conscience like salt on an old wound. Delta gulped back a sudden rush of intense emotions that flooded him. Here he was, in a cockpit of a rebuilt ARC about to go on a run against those same magnificent creatures a million of his brothers had died to protect. His crystal blue eyes widened as he began to breathe rapidly as his mind filled with extraneous thoughts and two deathly cold hands clamped onto his shoulders beneath his armour. She was here.

 

Don’t do this Ca’Aran. This will break you. Please

 

He could see the dim reflection of her red hair against the cockpit transparisteel and the smell that filtered through his helmet was hers. The sent of Ladalum lilies and machine oil. He drank in the memories and his heart panicked. His mind screamed that he was losing control, but his heart yearned for more.

 

His breathing was a ragged mess and his two co-pilots stared at him through the reflective mirrors embedded in the cockpit transparisteel. Their eyes wide with sudden fright. When Delta spoke, his voice was frightened and shaking. The voice of a man he once had been. A young clone battlehardened through two years of campaigning but still a child in his heart. His voice shook.A man desperately in love, a love that never yet had died and a love that he would never really recover from. “I...I...Just can’t stop Kailen, I-”

 

Then the power was there. Screaming through his head with the hearty laughs of the mighty Sith Hutt. Driving all doubts away like a hurricane and leaving the clone recon trooper fully in its sweaty grasp. Unwanted Spirits driven away before the power of the darkside and leaving Delta’s head clear but his heart screaming in pain. He blinked away tears from his eyes that were luckily covered by a red T-visor and with a single breath brought himself under control. His heart thundered away, filling his ears with its din as he spoke the words he needed to.

 

“This is Grey Leader, Check all flight systems, lets get sensor pings on that Golan and unit strength reports. All wings report in.”

 

“Blue Leader reporting all units online, green across the board.” That was the grizzled veteran Hanraris, leader of the eleven squadrons of the expensive TIE Defenders.

 

“Green Leader reporting in, all clear, missiles in the tubes and comms five by five.” The soft but commanding voice of the commander of black sun bombardiers Liam Edries, echoed through Delta’s headset.

 

“Red Wing reporting in, steady flow on the engines, ready to strike.” The broken basic of the woman commander Jenna Krales of the A wings broke in finally over the roar of the interior of the ARC.

 

Delta nodded to himself and flipped a switch overhead. “Jamming on, fall in behind us as we make our approach.”

 

He let himself relax into the draining hunger of the mindmeld, feeling the thousands of minds all connected, feeding a mass of emotions through the bond. Feeding the greedy monster that tugged on the hearts of his allies as if they were marionettes on the galactic stage. Delta’s fear and loneliness were stripped away and replaced with ambition and focused rage. A horrible feeling to someone that liked their own ambitions and feelings. But it was necessary for this fight. But already he could feel the hunger gnawing away at his soul. Leaching at him. Yearning to devour him whole. He blinked to focus his eyes and relayed the images that were coming up on the ARC’s scopes to the rest of the fleet. The ARC’s jamming being directional did not hinder the communications of the fighters and fleet behind them. And masked their approach from the front.

 

Delta looked forlornly towards the emerald world that they were burning towards at top speed. Though the wookiees appeared unprepared, their forces were still substantial. The main bulk of the forces were gathered around the Golan three defense platform Roshnarikk, and one of the docked MC-80 star cruisers was in the middle of a live fire exercise. Numbers and alerts filtered across Delta’s visor, IFFs were compiled by the capital ships and ported into the star fighter computers through lightspeed fast transmitters. This would be one hell of a fight.

[Saint]

As the smuggler ship began its descent on Kashyyyk, Saint looked over the group of mercenaries that would be going into battle with her. Despite all of them wearing Mandalorian armor only a handful of them were actually trained to Mandalorian standards. Saint did not know how Black Sun came to have such a stockpile of Mandalorian gear, but perhaps down the road an arrangement could be made to put it into more capable hands. Kolibri in particular seemed to have bought his way onto the team, like some overly wealthy extreme adventure tourist who far too late suddenly realized why they had to sign so many waivers.

 

For Saint, this moment was the opposite of terrifying, instead being a chance to make good on so many past sacrifices. After years of training with her adopted father, at last she would have the chance to truly grow in the eyes of Kad Ha’rangir, facing new opponents and adapting to overcome them. A training accident had left Saint paralyzed from the waist down, and in any other culture she would have been discarded to waste away her days in a chair, too broken to live a full life but not broken enough to die. But it wasn’t in the nature of her adopted people to accept limitations.

 

Tireless pursuit of specialists and experimental technology had allowed her to acquire a body glove that interacted with the undamaged parts of her spine to move her body, almost like having a secondary nervous system overlaying her body. Not only did the suit allow her to walk again, beskar fibers were woven in such a way to act as additional layers of muscle. She should have been a cripple, but now she had more in common with the superheroes that young children watched on the holonet.

 

There was one other defining difference between the other mercenaries and Saint, and that was her beskar’kandar armor. Most Mandalorians wore a lighter version of the traditional armor over a high quality armorweave, but Saint’s enhancement and her repulsor rig gave her the endurance to utilize the heavier plate version. Sometimes excessive momentum could be a problem, but she had trained to account for it. The thicker protection might come in handy this mission since some idiot had fumbled the gear requisition request and supplied jet packs instead of the much quieter and less visible repulsor rigs that she had put in for.

 

The pilot announced arrival and the squad filtered out of the open ramp and into the void of Kashyyyk’s night. While everyone went into free fall for a time, eighteen of them had their descent slowed by sudden bursts of fire as they activated their jet packs. Saint however drifted down like a weightless spirit, ethereally graceful and completely belying the power of her kit. She bounded from tree to tree, drifting silently but with powerful momentum.

 

With the more dynamic entry, the squad had to clear a wider radius of potential patrols, but the mercenaries still put down the targets with lethal efficiency. Originally the plan had been to suppress alarms and move undetected until forced to go loud, but with that option off the table, Saint readied a breaching charge and prepped the bunker door with cryoban shots to make the metal more vulnerable to blasts. She placed the charge on the shield generator’s operations bunker blast door, and as soon as everyone was acceptably clear, detonated the charge for the team to rush through.

 

The Wookies were beginning to rally a heavy defense now, and starting to assemble crew served weapons. Terra called out a Mk II cannon that the enemy were setting up, a definite threat even to Mandalorian iron clad mercenaries. Saint called out a warning over the comms to seek cover and arced a fragmentation grenade into the impromptu nest, detonating it at the point of maximum saturation. The metal walls of the compound made the metal shards ricochet back and forth through the wookies, turning the position into a gruesome abattoir.

 

Through operations the team reached their target, the shield dome’s power generator. Nau’ur detached from Saint’s pack and began its scan of the power system. A poorly placed charge could create an explosion that would incinerate the whole team, so precision was key. Within moments the optimal blast points appeared on her HUD, this was a fairly generic power system, and Saint went to work setting up the binary charges.

 

After placing the charges, Saint got clear and readied the detonator. As she was about to depress the activation stud, the world began to spin rapidly and a pain like raging fire spread through her left shoulder. Spinning awkwardly in the air from the impact, it took her a moment to reorient and realize what had happened. A quarrel from one the most notorious Wookie weapons, a bowcaster, had struck a glancing blow on her shoulder, and even without it striking at the right angle for optimal penetration, a chunk of her shoulder armor was gone or slagged. Saint returned fire with her charric, using the pushback to float into some cover provided by gantry supports. Her left shoulder still screamed in pain, but the charric’s stock was specifically designed to reinforce one handed firing.

 

Once her assailant had been dropped, Saint got clear again and with a warning to the rest of the team, detonated the charges, stripping the city’s protective aegis and clearing the way for the rest of the troops and their fleet support. A quick comm called in the completion of the objective to the fleet. Mission accomplished, she rendezvoused with Bolt, and pointing first to the gouge in her shoulder armor and then to a discarded bowcaster on the ground, spoke to her adoptive father.

 

“I want one.”

[Raia Montar]

Raia looked at her, not quite able to quell the nervousness as the Ravenhammer emerged from hyperspace at the outer fringes of the battle zone. Part of her hoped to write it off as being this close to a military operation, especially one that so closely resembled the one she’d seen in her dreams. So this is the start of the war, I foresaw…

After a few moments of appearing to ponder the girl’s question, Raia finally answered her. “It might help, or it might make it worse. I don’t honestly know. A lot of this is still new to me, more knowledge can’t hurt though, could it?”

 

She rose and went to the cockpit in search of 2V to enlist his help in copying the Sith language files and Dathomiri translations from her datapad to Telperien’s. He didn’t see too pleased to be tasked with what amounted to “nursery-sitting” duty, but he wasn’t about to remand Raynuk’s commands, either.

 

It was in that moment Raia chose to acknowledge the fear that had formed in the pit of her stomach. It was borne from the unfamiliarity of the situation as much as the replay of a past vision. Even in her fear, she could almost hear her father’s voice, reminding her who she was.

 

He’d trusted her with the datapad footage of the training incident on Korriban, expecting her to learn what she could from the information. The only way to overcome the fear of this unknown thing of war was to face it head on and learn what she could about it. She had to let go of some of what she remembered of her past - the rules Mitral had imposed on her tribe, her family, and her life - because that girl didn’t exist anymore, despite the memories she held.

 

Instead of leaving the cockpit to work in the lounge area, Raia called Telperien in and offered her the jump seat so they both could watch the battle unfold. She wasn’t going to let this opportunity to learn go to waste.

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Tel laughed hoarsely which ended in a coughing fit as the Ravenhammer exited hyperspace. She covered her mouth with her arm as the coughing fit continued until she was teary eyed and retching. Embarrassed, she swallowed the blood that had come with the cough instead of spitting it out. Crestfallen, she followed the older girl into the cockpit and was amazed at the lightshow. The duel daggers of the two Victories dished amazing sheets of Green fire towards a distant enemy as the two girls strapped themselves into the crash webbing. Since she didn’t like the feeling of her feet dangling over the floor, Telperiën sat cross legged in the giant chair instead.

 

A heavy presence almost overwhelmed her as a slimy sensation crawled up her spine. A hunger, calling, begging, desiring them. The Lord of the Krath called and Telperiën was hesitant to answer. She shivered and tapped the side of her head when she caught Raia’s eye.

 

Dangerous I think. But something we can learn from?

[Raynuk Montar]

((The defending fleet of Kashyyyk will be the following, for use as flavor and a guideline for posts leading to the already ruled successful invasion.))

 

-1 'old' MC80 - Bacca

• - 9 squadrons Auzituck anti-slaver gunships

2 Nebulon-B escort frigate - Drokkatta and Oevvaor

• -4 squadrons Auzituck anti-slaver gunships (2 each)

1 Golan III defense platform- Roshnarikk

 

2 Hammerhead Corvettes - Fahraark and Yubookoo

 

3 Squadrons Auzituck anti-slaver gunships (ground based)

 

 

 

 

By the time the amassed fleets of the Sith and their Black Sun allies signaled they were prepared to jump over the soon-to-be-doomed planet of Kashyyyk, Raynuk had secured himself in the bulbous cockpit of the Darksoul, taking full grasp of the solstice and quiet that would be snapped the moment the battle started.

 

He had told Raia everything she needed to know about the battle to come, which given the fact that she would be on the sidelines, was not much information at all. Once she and Telperien had boarded the Ravenhammer, and with a nod of trust to 2-VSH, he locked the boarding ramp behind them, sealing the two teenagers, tangible embodiments of the future of the Sith, aboard the ship until he returned. Qaela’s acceptance of his offer to have Telperien remain safely aboard his ship did not go unnoticed either, and was an important step forward for both of them if they were to coexist under the Dark Lord.

 

Nearly thirty minutes before the fleets and massed fighter squadrons had made the jump to Kashyyyk, Raynuk had launched the Darksoul from the Kyber after his quick but effective check of the ship, ensuring that it was still as suited for battle as it had ever been. It had been some time since he had piloted it, so he took the ship out into space and re-acquainted himself with the ship; how it felt, how it responded to his piloting, and just the intimate feeling that came from piloting a fighter-interceptor that was built for a single occupant.

 

With the shakedown maneuvers behind him, Raynuk moved the Darksoul into position with the rest of the squadrons, then picked up the battle and tuk’ata worn Katarn helmet. Glancing over to the ARC he identified as Delta’s, he slipped the helmet on, connecting into the communications and data networks afforded to him. A few scant minutes later, the entire Sith and Black Sun fleets made their coordinated hyperspace jumps.

 

=====================

 

The Darksoul emerged in formation, just behind the mass of TIE Defenders that were Blue Wing. The gluttonous will of Sheog, unfortunately familiar to Raynuk, swept over him then, just as it was doing to all the others. But while the various pilots, gunners, and bombardiers were pawns to the Battle Meditation of the Hutt, Raynuk was not. He took a deep breath meant to center himself, and then opened his mind, his will, and his strength to Sheog’s meditation, lending his power to bolster and focus it even more.

 

“This is Grey Leader, Check all flight systems, lets get sensor pings on that Golan and unit strength reports. All wings report in.”

 

“Blue Leader reporting all units online, green across the board.”

 

“Green Leader reporting in, all clear, missiles in the tubes and comms five by five.”

 

“Red Wing reporting in, steady flow on the engines, ready to strike.”

 

One by one the Starfighter wings reported in, beginning with Delta’s iron cold voice. Raynuk was well aware of the level of command Delta brought to the table, especially when he was in charge of starfighters, but this was the first time Raynuk was going to witness it for himself.

 

“Jamming on, fall in behind us as we make our approach.”

 

Raynuk nodded, signalling his solid copy, and fell in behind the TIE Defenders, tearing through space towards Kashyyyk at full speed, waiting for the opening that he would take. He and Qaela had been tasked with seizing any opportunity to capture or destroy one of the starcruisers for the Dark Lord. Until then however, Raynuk was going to make his own presence felt. He would cover the bombers on their approach and lend the Darksoul’s firepower where it was needed.

 

Somewhere along the way, Raynuk finally looked at the planet itself, and failed to suppress the memories that stemmed from the depths of that forested planet. This was the planet upon which Raynuk’s master, mentor, and friend was taken and consumed by the Tyranid bugs. The memory of Barohm Zar’s sacrifice sent shivers down Raynuk’s back. But in the wake of that loss, Raynuk had risen among the SIth. He had become a Sith Master by slaying, in all his murderous, guilt, and pain driven rage, the hive mind of the Tyranid on Kashyyyk. His hand reached up to the necklace that he still wore from that day. Crafted from the flesh of the Tyranid insectoid soldiers and the eye of the very hive mind he slaughtered.

 

But the stroll down memory lane was not conducive to the current situation; a point that was driven home as the Darksoul rocked from impact against its shields as a trio of wookiee gunships streaked past him. Raynuk’s eyes snapped back forward, and his grip tightened on his controls, refocusing on the chaos of battle before him before diving his ship into a roll to the left, falling to prey upon the gunships which were making a run at Grey Squadron. He clicked open his comm to Qaela.

 

“Follow my lead; shoot anything made of wood and sap.” He told her, recalling her earlier hesitation and concern about being of use in a starfighter. But if nothing else, she could follow his lead and be another set of eyes and guns.

 

Space had completely erupted around Kashyyyk as ships swarmed around each other while the larger ships all jockeyed to get into positions to fire on one another and the opposing starfighters.

[darth shadowlord]

Draken looked out as the fleet made its appearance over Kashyyyk, He nodded slowly and stroked his beard as he looked over the planet. Seemed that this was the Sith’s next move, it hadn’t been on the list of planets that Draken had considered the Sith would target. He pondered for a couple of minutes, mulling over information he knew about the planet. It had been known to have a darkside prevalent area deep in the jungle of the planet but so did a lot of planets, so there had to have been another reason behind the invasion. Finally he shrugged and reached out, calling his staff to his hand with the force then winked at Alora.

 

“Time to go to work.” He squatted down on the floor, balancing the his staff across his knees as he reached out to the force and began to manipulate the currents around him. As the currents began to turn around him, he reached out first to a small speck of darkness that he knew. "Hello my Apprentice, I shall join you soon." When he re-focused his attention on the currents he could see the larger web that was stretching out from a central location and reached out to multiple nodes of shadow. Examining the web for a moment, he followed it back to the nexus to a Sith he was acquainted with but whose presence showed to be a Krath.

 

Nodding to himself, Draken reached out to him. “Hello brother Krath.” He examined the web closer as he drew near to the nexus, a practiced eye from having used the technique in his earlier years. Highlighting several points within the web, he reached out and turned them slightly, adding some of his own power to strengthen those points.

[ReignOfKarth]

A pair of hums broke the stillness of the room, two sharp blazes of light, two sabers held by very different hands facing off. The hands of the man were delicate, emaculate, carefully trimmed and clean, holding the saber with the ease of knowledge and the grace of long practice, supported by a deep knowledge of the Force and the science necessary to preform the arts of the Sith. The hands of the girl were pale and dirty, a slim layer of dust and grease long worn into them, palms rough and scratched from hard labor, shaking wildly as they clutched with her full strength the handle of the weapon.

 

"O-ohhh-okkkkk."

 

As the blade slowly approached her, she parried desperately, swinging with arms fully extended as she leaned away from the impending clash, fear that she would miss dancing in her eyes. Her hands clenched tightly, unwilling to move from their position as her shoulders rotated uncomfortably, swinging the blade as if it was a snake about to bite her.

[Raia Montar]

Raia looked over her shoulder at the younger girl with more than a little concern from the sound and furiosity of the girl's cough, but she seemed to recover well enough. It made Raia wonder what kind of care Telperiën's mother was providing, but she kept the thought to herself. It wasn't her place to question Qaela's decisions for the girl.

 

When she glanced back at the raven-haired girl with the strange gold-tinted eyes, she felt the whispers of the girl on her mind amid the same oppressive presence Telperiën couldn't help but notice as well. Raia shifted uncomfortably at the intrusions but responded to the girl's question nonetheless. "You're welcome to join, though I don't know I'd want more voices in my head having had my fill of them recently," she answered in Dathomiri, knowing the other girl shared that language. Turning back to the control console from the co-pilot's seat, she distracted herself with remembering what controls she could identify and how each affected the Ravenhammer's systems and operations.

 

"I know nothing of war, especially war of this scale and means. I wouldn't want to distract from the others and whatever bond calls us as Sith. I won't be the weak link," she promised, turning her attention once more to frantic dance on display outside of the cockpit.

 

Hello my Apprentice, I shall join you soon.

 

Raia let out a short gasp of surprise but didn't shy back at the familiar voice that now echoed in her head, her hand moving to clutch the tree-like crystal at her neck in silent response.

 

"Master Draken has joined the battle. Once this is all over, I'll be leaving my Tētis to study with him as a Krath. I'm no Warrior like he is and I know little of the was of the Assassins. What path do you hope to study?"

[Raynuk Montar]

 

https://tinyurl.com/y7pvprtn

https://tinyurl.com/ydevhac6

 

 

 

Twelve….. thirteen…

 

Raynuk snapped the Darksoul hard to the right, straining against the momentum as a volley of fire scorched through the air where he had just been, then rolled his small fighter back over upon its track, putting the Auzituck gunship squarely in front of him. With a squeeze of the triggers nestled in his hands, his own heavy cannons blasted plasma straight through the engines, igniting a chain reaction that consumed the wookiee ship and its pilots in an explosion.

 

Fourteen…

 

Around him, the battle continued to rage, but to anyone watching for more than a few seconds, it was clear that the defenses of Kashyyyk were being horribly over-run. He adjusted his trajectory as he spotted a group from Green Wing making a run on one of the Nebulon B frigates, sweeping in behind them to cover their approach and add his own firepower. He watched with a level of smug satisfaction as the torpedoes and bombs pummeled and eventually collapsed the shield along the attack vector, with the last few impacting on the hull of the ship itself to maximum effect.

 

Raynuk continued forth as the Green Wing pilots peeled off to make further attack runs, threatening to overhead his cannons as he pummeled the exposed hull of the Nebulon B, waiting until the very last nanosecond to snap the Darksoul out of a suicide collison with the frigate. But having done more damage than expected, something within the heavily damaged section exploded, sending a shockwave of fire into space, engulfing and harshly rocking the Darksoul; hard enough for Raynuk’s head to clumsily smash into the side of the cockpit.

 

The blow to his head certainly rang Raynuk’s bell and sent his vision swimming momentarily. The Darksoul emerged from the explosion and away from the frigate only slightly singed but otherwise no worse for the wear. When Raynuk’s vision focused again, it was focused on the easiest thing to focus on; the planet Kashyyyk itself. But a moment later, the planet, the ships that swarmed around it, and even the cockpit of the Darksoul itself fell away to nothingness, leaving him with only a slightly shrouded form of Jaina standing before him.

 

It was as though the pair were trapped in and looking through a cloud of fog at each other. Jaina seemed to be just as surprised and slightly confused as Raynuk felt, and he imagined his face carried the same look as hers now did.

 

“Well this is inconvenient…” He spoke, his voice echoing only slightly.

 

“You’re telling me,” she replied immediately, her voice cool and guarded. “I have a feeling this is some kind of sick joke on the Force’s part.”

 

“Wouldn’t be the first time…” He mumbled, trying to focus on her image, frowning slightly at the fact that she seemed to appear so perfectly clear, but her immediate surroundings were as obscured as possible. “I can… see you… Like, perfectly clear as though you were standing in front of me. This is new…”

 

Distantly, as though it were happening several thousand meters from him, Raynuk heard an explosion, and felt the distant rumble of it.

 

“Can you… see me?” He questioned.

 

Her eyes flickered around his head like a halo, as if seeing some intangible thing she couldn’t quite grasp.

 

“I assume you found your way back to your new empire,” she said softly. A flash of pain she could not quite mask in time spanned the distance as she met his eyes.

 

After all these years, he had learned to see in her more than she was ever willing to let show; he couldn’t help picking up on that flash. Despite being in the middle of combat -- or so he assumed he still was, somehow -- he didn’t rise to the bait, fixing her only with a small frown as he answered.

 

“I Imagine no harder than you found your way back to the Jedi. How is -- “ He began, but stopped much shorter than he could have ever expected. The bond that they shared, that was somehow stronger now than ever before, opened to him, and he knew instantly the terrible answer to what he was about to ask.

 

He whispered a curse, and searched her face in one of the rare times when he had been struck speechless in the wake of the raw emotion he had found within her. Her walls were up, but it was there. After what was clearly too long, he set his face and finally spoke.

 

“I’m sorry Jaina… I wish I had known sooner.”

 

He looked at the ground at her feet, the slim space between her feet the only indication of where she might be. All he saw was deck plating, which was hardly conclusive.

 

“You didn’t answer my question though. Can you see me as vividly as I can see you?”

 

Her lower lip quivered under the telltale glimmer of welling eyes, though whether from mournful sadness or rage it was impossible to tell. “I can see you,” she just about spat.

 

Rage. Rage was a safe bet.

 

“After Corellia, I thought that you were better than playing lap dog to another Dark Lord’s murderous wishes,” she continued, though there was no attempt to mask the pain this time. “Tell me honestly, how long did you wait after I left Kashyyyk before you rallied the troops to light the damn planet up? I hope it was at least an hour.”

 

It seemed, more and more in recent times, Raynuk had found a level of calm and stoicism that was apparently at odds with him being a Sith Master. And now, before him in their shared vision, it was Jaina the Jedi Master, who was enveloped in rage and anger. He waited a beat in silence, which must have been nearly agonizing to Jaina for his lack of response, then met her pain filled eyes evenly.

 

“As far as I know, it had nothing to do with you.” He answered, “The only reason I even might have known you had been on Kashyyyk was because of a vision Raia shared with me. Take my word for it, or search my mind if you don’t believe my words. I have nothing to hide in that respect. But that tells me that either you can see a hell of alot more of me than I can of you, or the planet wasn’t as secured as the others had hoped. Regardless... “

 

He stepped forward in their vision, and shouldn’t have been surprised when it had no effect on the distance between them.

 

“I know you’re angry, and sad, and frustrated with the entire galaxy for what it has brought and taken from you. I don’t need a mental connection to see it written on your face. Barely holding on by a thread once more… questioning everything that lies before you? Failing to see the purpose in any of it? And I know you probably are angry at me, somewhere in the midst of it all. But I am serving my order, the same as you are. Doing what I feel to be the best way forward, same as you.”

The calm was beginning to run thin on his face as he continued. “But you want answers? Okay, fine. I have no idea how long after you left Kashyyyk that this attack began to be conceived of, because I wasn’t present for it. I nearly missed the fight entirely as a matter of fact, because Ar-Pharazon decided to possess Raia and use her to try and kill me in my sleep. I had to deal with the… repercussions of that evil instead. I put her first before the order. Just like you did when you charged off after Tirzah... “

 

The moment he said her name, he regretted it, not knowing how she would react to him of all people saying her name.

 

“I shouldn’t have said that. I should not have said that.” He mumbled to himself. “This is the only way I have ever known Jaina, so unless you have a better idea, I am being as smart about this as I can be. I am no one’s lap dog anymore. What more do you want from me?”

 

Whatever tumultuous, roiling sea of molten anger had erupted within Jaina faded away piece by piece as he spoke. In the end, there was a hollowness in her face that confirmed the truth of each assumption he had spoken, marked by a jolt of horror as the news of Raia sank in, and sealed by the pain of her daughter’s name. For far too long, again, it was silent, as his question filled the infinite space that separated them, and just when it seemed they would be locked in a stalemate forever in this strange, ethereal in-between that existed only for them, Jaina finally spoke once more.

 

“I--I want--” she began haltingly, as though terrified of what might proceed out of her mouth. As she closed her eyes for a fraction of a moment to regain control, a pair of tears left tracks on her cheeks. “I want to build a galaxy where we don’t have to be working against each other anymore,” she whispered quietly. “How long before they find out about this, Raynuk? How long before we’re asked to use this bond like a weapon? How long before we’re both leading the charge and find each other at the front of the opposing force? I--I don’t think--” Her voice broke once more, but her eyes never lost his, pleading for some kind of reassurance.

“Don’t give in to fear.”

 

Those five words came almost immediately following Jaina’s voice breaking, his own having regained its strength. Had it been any other moment, Raynuk might have felt a sense of irony; Jaina had after all once been his apprentice, and here he was giving her guidance once again; to a Jedi Master.

 

“Will that day come? Perhaps… None of us can claim to know the future. But I do not fear that eventuality, and neither should you. We must each do what is needed and what we believe to be right. But we can not guide the fate of either of our orders if we forsake them or work against them. We must hold the path, we must rise to the point that we can each steer the Sith and the Jedi in the right directions. If that day comes, and we find ourselves facing one another on a battlefield, large or small, I know what I will do. If the Sith seek to use our connection against you, I know what I will do. And I will do it without second thought, or regret.”

 

Failing to remember what happened last time, he tried another pointless step forward, catching himself in his stupidity with a small smile to himself before he looked back up at her.

 

“I will yield to you. I will always... yield to you, and you alone. In the end, it has to be you.”

 

Relief washed across her face, and seemingly despite herself, she did what he had, for some reason, been unable to do: a step, two steps, three, carried her forward. A hand came up slowly as if to rest her fingertips on his cheek, and she inhaled deeply as though preparing to speak once more, when another violent blow to the ship slammed Raynuk’s head through thin air where her hand should have been and against the wall of the cockpit once more.

 

Swearing loudly as his head cracked into the frame of the cockpit, sending an array of fire, lights and sparks across his vision, he recovered to find that the vision, and Jaina along with it, were gone again. He was thrust back into the frenzied space combat over Kashyyyk, the Darksoul shaking violently again as blaster fire raked across the ship.

 

Whatever had hit him hard enough to smash his head into the canopy again had also completely tore through his aft shielding, leaving the computer screaming alarms until Raynuk dumped all the power from his front shields and missile launchers into recovering the aft shields. As he glanced around, he realized that the Darksoul had wandered quite a ways away from the center of the battle where he had been previously. Cutting the power to his engines by half wrenched him forward against the cockpit’s restraints as the ship lurched, and a moment later another gunship swerved to avoid slamming into him, and now Raynuk was on the gunship’s tail.

 

But Raynuk hesitated on blasting this gunship to pieces, as the fresh memory of Jaina’s presence so close to him, and her anger and emotion clawed at the edge of his mind. He paused, and then his finger lifted from the trigger, and instead, sending full power back to the engines, Raynuk tore the Darksoul from its pursuit, and aimed himself back towards the heart of the battle at full speed. He didn’t even bother to check if the gunship followed him.

 

The wookiees aboard that gunship would never know they owed their lives to a sometimes wayward Jedi’s effect over a Sith Master. SInce his return to life, he had grown accustomed to the ever present bond with Jaina, to the point where its presence was relegated to the automatic portions of his existence; like the sound of his own heartbeat. But now… now it was different. Even though he could no longer see her, he could feel the connection had grown stronger. He didn’t need to focus on their connection to feel her emotions now; determined, and perhaps slightly relieved, but conflicted nonetheless.

 

One day... It will all be worth it… he thought, almost certain that she could hear his internal voice too.

[Delta73]

Grey wing swept into the battle formation of the Wookiee defense force like a wave against a child’s teetering sandcastle. Accompanied by the opening volleys of the giant capital ships, the ARC-170s tore through space alongside the crackling green energy from mighty turbolasers. Delta’s HUD was bright with enemy squadrons as they finally got into range. Reaching above him to the row of weapon toggles he flipped two switches. The first bringing power to the missile guidance systems and the next to arm the first torpedoes in their racks. All around him the other grey wing pilots did the same, arming the powerful and expensive diamond boron missiles which were located in their launchers under the ships.

 

His voice was calm as he spoke into his mic, “All wings arm missiles, set for three hundred meter target acquisition and launch on my mark at the gunships.”

 

The three hundred meter acquisition was relatively unnecessary, but it guaranteed that the missiles would be beyond the jamming cloud before seeking their targets, therefore unable to double back on their own fighters. It was a unique way of fighting, and almost always resulted in multiple missiles for each target as there were not direct locks from the starfighter target acquisition computers, but that would be for the next round of missiles. Once the jamming modules were turned off and the Wookiee defense force were within deadly point blank range.

 

“Mark.”

 

The ARC’s frame shuddered as a duel pair of diamond boron missiles streaked from the undercarriage of the fighterbomber, burning through space with the distinct grey green afterglow of its booster engines. All around him, the whole combined squadrons let off a pair of missiles towards the congested space around the Golan III. The mix of Diamond Borons, Proton Torpedos, Heavy Rockets, Concussion Missiles, and Discord missiles streaked into the oncoming gunships of the Wookiee Defense force.

 

“Grey Wing, drop jamming, activate heavy sensors to repeat ping routed through the Marie for tactical overlay, all other wings into the thick of it. You have your orders.”

 

Delta reached up and toggled the glowing red switch on the control panel and immediately more power cycled through to the engines and incoming target locks filled up the HUD. With a push of a thruster pedal, the ARC dove into a spiral as the enemy fleet began to let loose their missiles. Most of the front wave gunships never had the chance and were turned into dark clouds of gas, wood chips, and expanding fireballs highlighted against the emerald green world below them. According to sensor data from the ARCS and the Marie it looked like the opening volley had eliminated at least two squadrons of the gunships, and had heavily damaged the shields of one of the Hammerhead Corvettes.

 

But there was little time to think of that. As Green wing began their bombing approach on the Nebulon B’s. Blue Squadron was tangling with the rest of the gunships. Leaving the ARCs and Red Wing little to do but hunter kill. Red Wing made a magnificent pass on a squadron of gunships and then Uriel II or Grey two, took a stray turbolaser round from the MC-80 Bacca and Delta watched as a long time friend and ally disappeared into an expanding gas cloud and S-foils spinning lazily through the dark of space.

 

I told you didn’t I?

 

Fighting back the haunting voice and the abject terror that came with it, Delta kicked his thruster pedals and spun his ARC towards the Golan and the Bacca.

 

“Red Wing clear us a path.”

 

Look with your eyes Ca'Aran

 

As if drawn by the ghostly spirit Delta saw the IFF blip of the Darksoul peel off from an attack on a gunship and Delta furrowed his brow as the unscathed gunship formed up with three others and afterburned towards the edge of the Axis Armada where… He gulped and keyed his comm to direct connection to the Darksoul and triggered it.

 

“Darksoul this is Grey Leader, that gunship and two others as well as the Hammerheads are now sprinting towards the area where the Ravenhammer is positioned behind the Totenkopf with an eta to contact of thirty seconds. Looks like they want to pick off a high value target or two. The only fleet asset we have in position is the Totenkopf as the Red Hussar's batteries are focused on the Golan. Looks like the Totenkopfs gravity well projectors are cycled up giving it limited maneuverability. Are you able to get into position to intercept?”

 

He would trust Montar with the life of Telperien. He would have to, he had little choice otherwise. The rest of the fleet was not in position. It concerned him that the Sith Master had let his prey escape him, but he had to have had a good reason. He looked back at the rapidly approaching Mon Cal cruiser and the Golan and swallowed the last remaining saliva in his mouth leaving his throat dry. Green Wing had also formed up for the assault and the red afterburner streaks of the A-Wings wee in front of him. Clearing the way to destiny. He shivered as a sudden cold seeped through his sealed armour. Not the cold of space or hard vacuum, but the shiver of the force stirring.

[Telperiën Ar-Pharazon]

Tel shook her head violently, causing the black braids to bounce about her shoulders. “I don’t much like the idea of getting that slimy hutt’s presence in me, and Dad doesn’t want me to either.” She looked curiously at the older Dathomiri, “What’s a Crath? I don’t know what kind of Sith factions there are, but I like the sneaky stuff mom does.”

 

Something stirred deep in her chest and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. The voices wove their words about her, beckoning her to join the call of the mind meld.

[Raynuk Montar]

Raynuk was still pushing the Darksoul towards the center of the battle when the comm clicked to life, bringing with it the tinny voice of Delta. Craning his neck around to look behind him, he spotted the trio of gunships and both Hammerhead corvettes closing on the Totenkopf, with the Ravenhammer floating not as far away as he would have preferred. He twisted and rolled the Darksoul, adjusting its heading to provide the quickest intercept of the threat as he could manage.

 

So much for being momentarily benevolent... he thought before triggering a reply.

 

"Copy Grey Leader, moving to intercept now. Suggest ordering the Totenkopf to do whatever it can to stall the Hammerheads; This is going to be close. The Ravenhammer isn't defenseless, but its about as maneuverable as a bantha."

 

Despite the Ravenhammer being a freighter meant more for travel than combat, Raynuk had commissioned it knowing that there would come a day when its defensive or offensive capabilities would be tested. It was part of the reason he had purchased and integrated 2-VSH into being a co-pilot, and had lead Raynuk to have his ship fitted with 'chin cannons' under the cockpit, and had modified the turret to be able to take advantage of full range (360 by 90) of movement. The ship might take some hits, but he was confident it could handle the three gunships, especially if they made the mistake of ignoring the Ravenhammer initially. The Hammerheads were the bigger problem, for both ships. Looking down at the navicomputer, at his current speed, Raynuk would be in firing range of the closer Hammerhead a full six seconds after they would be at range of the Totenkopf. Raynuk opened the comm himself, this time to the Ravenhammer.

"2V, you have three Auzitck gunships, and two full Hammerhead corvettes burning hard right for you and the Totenkopf. I'd warm up the weapons if I were you... I don't know who they're targeting, but either way, when they're close enough... End them. Hopefully they are not going to focus on you. I am on my way to reinforce you."

 

Knowing it might cause damage to the ship itself by overloading the power condensers, Raynuk shunted all the power from the targeting computer, Ion cannons, and half from his shields, and dumped it all into the Darksoul's engines. Suddenly pushed back in his restraints as the small ship blasted forward like a rocket drunk on fuel, and Raynuk silenced the alarms almost instantly as they started blaring their warnings. Carrying this much speed reduced the agility of his ship, and it took a considerable amount of focus and grit to keep the Darksoul from drifting from its course. But the gamble proved to be worth it, as he glanced down and saw the +6 second intercept drop to -4 seconds. He sparred it only a glance however, his grip tightening on the controls until his knuckled turned as white as his hair had once been, and the seconds ticked down.

[Exodus]

The horde of ships loomed from the darkness of space above Kashyyyk as if conscripted from the seven bellies of hell. Hulls as black as the void shimmered sweet in the light of the system’s ravishing Sun. Alongside the daunting assembly that came with Lord Exodus was another force, hives of ships bearing the infamous symbol of the Black Sun. Sith and Black Sun alike poured forward in an opening blitzkrieg with the smaller craft manifesting the vanguard, and the much larger ships idling in a slow rear-guard. These ships were all designated as elements of War Fleet Red Sun, a collusion commanded by the Dark Lord that led this Sith Empire. The half-moon posture that the fleet moved in with forward momentum immediately opened relentless fire, taking their enemies by complete surprise. The opposing forces were without a doubt, outnumbered. Turbolasers from their current spread rained down like hammer against anvil, while endless hosts of starfighter commands spread like locusts. There was no such thing as a fair fight. In the center of these elite forces was an incandescent ship that easily stuck out among the various star destroyers, corvettes and others. It was the Bleeding Kyber, a mammoth ISD-II Destroyer and personal flagship of the Lord Emperor, and Dark Lord of the Sith.

 

 

• ===

 

The touch of the archaic metal rattled the small bones in his hand ever so slightly, a physical shiver born from the infusion of dark alchemy that ran the course of the runic blade. The Sith Runeblade Sveris contained a power that riddled the skin of it, a weapon weathered in cold blood and cursed in a particular language of famine. Exodus sheathed the dense warblade in a treated leather, and tied the excess strappings around the embroidered hilt. Somehow, the hum and hymn of the blade still called out to the Dark Lord, estranged laughter echoing in his mind. Standing up, clearing his focus from the noise of the dead, and deeply inhaling the air around him renewed his clarity. There were dark coals tucked into the corners of his quarters that burned an excellent incense into the air, and his nostrils filled entirely with it’s magic. This was tradition for any powerful Sith before combat, the entrenched power of the Dark Side burning into the atmosphere and feeding on the primal nervous system of the practitioner. This provided the invincible assassin with unmeasured focus, and an unbreakable chaining of dark power that would function flawlessly at whim. Malacoda Syn breathed the ancient smoke meditatively, while his mind searched the Bleeding Kyber. He could find no weakness, the Worldbreaker was in full steam.

 

 

“..Lord Sheog. The Kyber is my gift to you. Take command as you are, and wipe every last one of these ships from our path.” The density of his dark voice slipped into the powerful mind of the Hutt and carefully so, understanding that the Krath Lord was already enmeshed with thousands of others. For the Hutt to spread himself across the entirety of the fleet was no simple task, but he was now one with them all. Exodus now eased into the hive-mind with unquestionable dominance, an unnatural gravitas that would set fire to the adrenaline of his legions. The return was incredible, all sentients indoctrinated with pure focus, except a single disturbance he could feel inside of the Wolf. A spider could feel even the slightest tug in his web, especially one as masterful as Exodus. The Dark Lord spared no moment of distraction, and eyed the carrier that held items in which Faust had delivered prior. The chest was still stowed away on Exodus' personal vessel, but a particular item inside of the kit drew his mind to curiosity. "The shield has fallen, Kashyyyk will feel my wrath."

 

 

Lord Exodus moved swiftly from his chambers, two Sith Lords now flanked the walkway behind him on his march to the Lightbreaker. The operation had been thoroughly dissected over the small course of time, after it’s sanction and order by Exodus himself. Reconnaissance had now diverted their focus from asset recovery to the tracking of any and all oppositions. The threat of the Sith extinction was no practical joke to be had, and the insult had buried itself deep inside his veins since he had awakened. From what they were when he had taken rise, to what they were now was a fascination, even his allies returned from the brink of death upon his return. This horde was starved and ready for war, teased by the political gamble of Onderon, but would now feast upon the bare bones of those that would hide these Jedi rats.

 

 

• ===

 

Preparations were met ahead of time as Lord Exodus swept into the hanger where his fighter, as well as a bevy of additional vessels were located. The accompanying task force, Sith Troopers of all designations, loaded into various craft almost as instant as their Dark Lord had stepped foot inside the docking bay. The mission was simple, a laden escort that would make heed planetside and assist the mercenaries who had infiltrated the shield system. An advisor had reviewed the service records of each unit detachment, Sith Recon cells that once hailed under the authority of the Dark Lord in times long past. Lightly armed, but viciously maneuverable. There was no doubt that they would bring the ground forces alive, but the gravity of their positioning would be of utmost importance. They would have to move with excellence, as the Dark Lord would lead their company, and a bad impression would be a fatal first step.

 

Lord Exodus slid into the Lightbreaker, a powerful custom starfighter drenched in lucrative design. The autopilot AI acknowledged the master of the vessel, and the machine shuddered alive. Holographic manifestations of the war outside the hanger sprawled across the screen, while the scripted intelligence balanced the flurry of incoming information. Meticulously, Exodus sent a quiet signal to the drop-team as his own ship lifted on the balance of the atmospheric stabilization system, before dropping out of the hangar and into space. The IFF registered with the remainder of the fleet, and it’s allies, as the StealthX technology was left unemployed for the time being. "Multiple enemy trajectories en route, contact imminent." The cold mechanical voice of the AI spared no time in acquisition. "The missiles." The Dark Lord looked askance at the predicament, understanding that the chaos had only just begun. It would be fitting that here and now, that the Lords of the Sith and the Black Sun would experience the merit of their blood ties and commitment to one another. It was a particular testament to a powerful and new Empire, one that was not diseased with the infantile infighting of old. The missile launchers actuated their targets with AI precision, while the turret swivel adjusted for vector speeds of approaching enemy craft and began a firing onslaught as the Lightbreaker appeared adjacent to the ongoing dogfights.

[Raia Montar]

Throughout the battle, Raia watched as the planetary defenders swarmed toward the larger and more powerful Sith fleet. She knew nothing of this planet or its history, merely that the home defenders were determined to fight rather than surrender to the superior force. The green world also reminded her of Dathomir and she wondered for a moment if the combined Black Sun and Sith fleet would raze this world as well.

 

As unobtrusively as she could and careful not to be drawn into the other mysterious pull she felt, she closed her eyes to feel for where Raynuk was in the space beyond. At first, it was hard, but after a few moments, she was able to find him by picturing the same Emerald City she’d ran to, somehow knowing in that instant that it was the beacon that led her to him.

 

She watched Raynuk’s ship (feeling it more than seeing as it moved through the space beyond) as Telperien responded, glad the girl had opted to leave Sheog’s insistent call alone.

 

“Let’s see what I remember from what Tētis has told me. The Warriors are the primary fighters - ‘army’ is the word he’s used. I guess that’s why he’s needed for the Dark Lord’s campaigns.”

 

“The Krath, tend to rely more on the Force to win their battles, as opposed to the Warrior’s sheer strength. I’m guessing the Assassins are the ‘sneaky stuff’ like your mother does.” Raia shrugged, unsure of her answer.

 

She was about to elaborate further when she felt something shift and noticed the vessels heading toward their position. “2V...” The designation came out slightly strained and with a rising note of panic as she watched the Kashyyykian ships close, totally unsure of what to do.

 

Before the droid could answer, the comm sprang to life with a crackle, and Raynuk’s voice filled the cockpit.

 

"2V, you have three Auzitck gunships, and two full Hammerhead corvettes burning hard right for you and the Totenkopf. I'd warm up the weapons if I were you... I don't know who they're targeting, but either way, when they're close enough - end them. Hopefully, they are not going to focus on you. I am on my way to reinforce you."

 

2V voiced his acknowledgment, sparing only a glance at Raia and Telperien as his spindly fingers began preparing what weapons the Ravenhammer had.

 

<>

 

Totally ignorant to how potentially terrifying that sounded to Raia and Telperien, 2V returned his focus to the task at hand; swiveling the turret to face forward, equalizing the shields to their maximum, and loading the first salvo of missiles into the launchers. And then the Ravenhammer would wait.

 

“Thanks, droidy!” Came the cheery but hoarse voice of Telperien. She held onto the crash webbing that crossed her chest, her feet dangling above the decking. Kicking idly.

 

In that same instant, Raia snapped “Not helping!” at the droid before looking back at Telperien seriously wondering if the girl understood what might happen if their ship wound up in the line of fire. She forced herself to calm down and knowing that Raynuk was on his way and her trust in 2V’s self-preservation programming helping her stay focused.

[Delta73]

The three gunships began their approach on the Ravenhammer, streaking through space with full afterburner. Though their vessels were ungainly, their armament was strong, and they would likely only get a single pass. With the Hammerheads designating the Totenkopf as their primary target, the pilots of the gunships decided it was better to pick off whatever small ship was lingering on the edge of the fleet. Any kills to chalk up would be a win. And this whole defense was suicide.

 

Mere seconds before the Hammerhead corvettes opened fire on the Totenkopf, a twin-pronged arrowhead of black, trailing blue fire slammed into close range combat with the trailing Hammerhead, its twin cannons relentlessly tearing into the aft shields of the Yubookoo, apparently enough of a threat to give pause to it’s crew from firing on the Totenkopf and turning their attention to the tiny ship pummeling them with hatred...

 

The Totenkopf fired away with its quad turbolaser batteries at the incoming Hammerhead Fahraak. Blazing red fire erupted from the batteries to smash against the shields of the smaller corvette, failing to break the integrity with a single barrage as the gunners hoped. The Hammerhead wove around the incoming fire in a dance of death, firing away with its own underpowered batteries to some effect, draining the Totenkopf’s shield integrity to nearly 50 percent. The two ships circled the other, hammering away with their turbolasers for nearly a minute as the Totenkopf scored another series of hits against the Fahraak. The captain of the Totenkopf requested aid from the allied fleet on all comm frequencies.

[Raynuk Montar]

With both Hammerheads engaged, it became clear that the gunships were indeed angling towards the Ravenhammer. If 2V’s face were capable of frowning, the droid would probably have been wearing one in that moment as he levered the engines to push the larger ship forward, making it a moving target.

 

<>

 

2V likely would have continued to prattle on, but Raia’s voice yelling “2V!” and emphatically pointing at the approaching ships stopped the storytime moment.

 

<>

 

As though the loss of seconds was no big thing, 2V turned his attention to the approaching gunships. Wordlessly flipping a few switches and then turning his mechanical head side to side, while deeper in the ship the whine of servo motors rumbled. The Ravenhammer, or more precisely, the top mounted turret, was now tracking his head’s movement. There was another momentary pause, and then 2V pointed at a switch in front of Raia that had just lit up.

 

<>

 

The moment Raia flipped the switch, the two primed concussion missiles fired from their tubes, tracking on the lead gunship. The droid had waited just long enough to limit the amount of time the gunship would have to react to nearly nothing before the missiles would impact and detonate.

 

The gunship pilot must have been slightly better than 2V had calculated, for its final act in life was to squeeze off a return volley of cannon fire at the Ravenhammer before he and his entire ship was consumed by the explosion. The Ravenhammer rocked with the impact, but 2V offered no further words, as the two remaining gunships each dove to fly around the consuming explosion.

 

2V’s head tracked one ship to the left, while it’s hands adjusted the Ravenhammer to the right, until just the right moment…

 

<> The droid said as he squeezed the triggers to fire the chin cannons, apparently feeling the need to voice his action.

 

But at the same moment the chin cannons spewed nonstop death at the gunship it was following, the top turret spewed its own stream of fire at the other gunship that 2V’s head had been tracking. With an audible concussive blast, the gunship in front of the Ravenhammer withered under the fire, breaking into pieces. The rear gunship was luckier; likely having spotted the turret tracking it, when it fired the gunship dove further down, using the VCX-350’s engine pods as makeshift cover, perhaps the only blindspot on the entire ship, and began to return fire on the Ravenhammer’s rather large rear end, each strike shaking the ship as 2V shifted power around to keep the shields up.

 

----

 

With three seconds left to his intercept, Raynuk’s hand hovered over the button on the power control system that would pull the over-maxed power that was slowly burning the engines on the Darksoul and send it flooding back into the shields and cannons. And when the counter reached zero, Raynuk slammed that button before having the weight of an entire planet crush the air from his lungs as the ship rocked forward.

 

The stars swam before him again for a moment, but he willed himself past it through sheer determination, and lining up the Darksoul’s cannons with the brightly glowing engines of the Yubookoo, and poured every ounce of power delegated to the cannons into the shields that protected the ship. The Hammerhead of course began fighting back, spinning its own turrets to shoot back at Raynuk and his ship. But the Darksoul was already a small target, and at such close range the gunners were having difficulty tracking the sudden, jolty movements that Raynuk was executing, all the while his cannons continued to pound and break through the shields. Still, there was enough incoming fire that Raynuk began to wonder if he, and the ship, could keep up.

[Delta73]

Closer to the Golan, three squadrons of A-Wings broke off from their attack vector to weave towards the deadly crossfire of the two corvettes. The dorsal turbolasers of the Red Hussar also rotated towards the fight and let loose long sheets of green turbolaser fire to crash upon the Fahraak and blow a long score of holes along its side. A cheer went up in the Totenkopf’s command center as the enemy hammerhead began to list in space, firing with only two of its five engines.

 

The cheer did not last long as suddenly the Fahraak ignited both its engines into afterburner and plunged itself towards the gravity well projector on the Totenkopf. In a suicide kamikaze mission that would surely give the Black Sun fleet a pause and give the captain of the Fahraak and Kashyyyk itself some final glory.

 

Captain Lattahns of the Totenkopf could only let out a “Oh Kriff!” Over the fleet communication network before both ships erupted in a gout of fire and expanding gas. The core of the Totenkopf went critical next and all ships in the area were buffeted by the expanding radiation cloud, taking a half dozen A-wings with it. Throwing the entire flank into chaos.

 

Sirens went off around the Black Sun Armada, signalling their first loss.