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Squeaky voices cried out across all open channels as rambling threats of death and carnage crowded the comms. Aboard the Imperial Momship, Reaper Joe directed the swarms of needle ships forward following the spewing laser fire of their fellow rebels. Nothing would stop them!

 

Seeing the swarms of his brethren fall like piranha beetles towards the enemy cruisers, the Imperial Momship turned it’s attention elsewhere. “Fire upon the bad doing baddie Sith and make them pay with much screaming pain  and internal organ-grinding suffering of despair.” Turbolaser fire spewed forth from the once-Imperial, squirrel-like overrun vessel.  “The pesky bothersome death gnat spewing toothless metal mouth will be slapped shut for all permanence eternally. Run quickly as much as your stubby abnormally shorty short waddle legs might carry pull you before the supreme rain of superior Squibian morally justified Imperial firepower send your legless desecrated badly boomed bodies back into the furthestmost great beginning reaches of time space.”

 

The corvette-sized needle ships raced through the empty space towards their prey until the rambling monstrosity of an enemy ship moved to cut them off. With the attention span of a squirrel burying a nut beneath a koja nut tree before winter when nuts fell from the sky they changed their course. Turning their attentions to the new lumbering target, the Squibs screamed their battle cries. Lengthy rambling threats of ship and child disembowelment filled the airwaves around the Black Bracer. It was an added bonus to the flaying tractor beams that leapt from the ships’ maws to try and tear at the thick armored plating of the enemy. Like the koja nuts, the sweet core within would be laid bare, ripe for the devouring.

 

____________________________________
 

Independent Jedi/Imperial Support Force: Sairdonga

Destroyer Group (Turbolasers)

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

 

MCS MC75-Class Star Cruiser: Imperial Momship Formally Known As Admiral Sairdonga |20/20|

 

Independent Jedi/Imperial Support Force: Death Harvest Catchers

Hellriders: Hit and Run Tactics

 

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-3-3-4-5 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10 |2/1|
 

Independent Jedi/Imperial Support Force: Sith Eaters

Hellriders: Hit and Run Tactics

 

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 0-1 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 1-2 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 2-3 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 3-4 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 4-5 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 5-6 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 6-7 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 7-8 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 8-9 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 9-10 |2/1|

 

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Whatever stood before Nyrys was no Jedi. That much was apparent now. There was a sickness to her that felt unnatural even to Nyrys. Unlike the Sith, who mastered the Dark Side and used it to achieve their own goals, this thing was enthralled by the darkness, like some kind of zombie or rabid beast.

 

“Clearly you are in pain,” Nyrys spoke in firm, measured words as she drew Gwn Marwolaeth, “Allow me to offer you some measure of peace.”

 

The warrior adopted a boar’s tooth guard, right foot forward and blade angled downward. Advancing quickly but not at a full on charge, she moved towards the peripheral, ready to dart away or deflect an incoming attack as needed. The spear was a defensive weapon, and engaging an enemy required careful consideration, and foolishness was a great way to get skewered. 

 

So rather than charging in, Nyrys called upon her assassin training, fanning the flames of hunger and rage that she felt within her opponent. She was no stranger to either emotion, and ever since her first Force bond, with the Krath master Sheog, she had an intimacy with starved frenzy and the thrill of consuming others.

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Her opponent took the form of Dente di Zenghiaro or The Boar's Tusk, with a wicked looking blade of Sithmetal. The fulleration in the three-foot blade caught the fading light of the evening, giving the sword an impish gleam. On Ord Mantell, such a sword was called a Beidhänder, and it was not a weapon a woman such as the one before her would normally carry. It made the Exorcist cautious as the Sith advanced across the forest floor. She expanded her locus of control across her body, settling a portion upon her weapons.

The wind began to blow through the trees, marked by the rattling of the bare branches of a Thyassup above them, the dark-barked tree having long shed its leaves with the change of the seasons. The Song continued its mournful rhythm, and the Saber-spear reverberated with its words. The faint white glow that wreathed its long shaft became a firestorm of light, flowing from the Exorcist’s hands. She sang with the rhythm, letting the words of the Force flow through her.

Cor mundum crea in me, deorum et flamme rectum innova in visceribus meis.

With her own blackened boots making almost no sound, Kyrie modified her Hellepartan stance into Posta di Fenestra Destra, her saber-spear igniting into an orange glow, sparking with bolts of silver fire. The stance was one seldom used in the treatise of Vom Tag, but it allowed for balance and control in the defense. Her forest-green kama whipped with the wind as she moved.

The Exorcist’s left foot came forward, but a larger portion of her weight she held over the right. Her left hand caressed the cortosis-enweaved briar-wood two handsbreadths above the base of the spear, while the right held the wood loosely and close to the balance which she brought up, close to her pointed ear.

Starvation… and… Wrath

Such an amplification of emotions was unnatural to the Exorcist. It was a wicked twisting of her own internal struggle. They began to take on their own flames within her but paled against the Holy Flame within her. It blazed far greater, an unstoppable inferno of righteousness, which consumed all before it. The willpower of the Master of the Exorcists was strong.

Her probisci flicked at the air. Tasting. Hunting.

The ashes of the sin that she had consumed sat like lump of beskar upon her mind, burning but never melting away. The new fires had left a stain upon her, more weight within her soul, and it drove her to engage. The Exorcist sighed with the mournful songs of the Force as they converged about her.

Ne proiicias me a facie tua, et ignis sanctum tuum ne auferas a me.

The hunger had an external origin and she let forth a portion of the flame that had been fed by it. The Imperial Knight focused upon the Sithling before her, giving the flame life, bonding it to the wind that moved around them, and letting it go.

The brilliant white flame leapt from her saber-spear, taking the unconscious form of an all-consuming tempest, rushing to take the Sithling from her left, where the form of the Boar’s Tusk was strongest. From her locus of control, Kyrie whipped one of the six-inch fixed-blade stillettos on her belt with a simple expression of the force. It cracked as it was brought to a dizzying speed before she released it from her minds control. It was angled at the Sithling’s right shoulder in a wide arc to the right, from which the Boar’s Tusk stance was more vulnerable. Together the attacks would hit on both sides at a forward angle. 

The Exorcist pressed back into the Hunger of the Song, seeking the influence of her opponent. Now she knew from where this Assassin took a portion of her power.

((1))

Edited by Kyrie Eleison

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Draygo growled as hundreds of icons began to appear on the sensor boards, all of them marked with red pips to indicate that landing craft and starfighters were descending into Corellia’s atmosphere. For a few seconds, the veteran Jedi just lowered her head and considered the tactical options. An invasion force of this size was likely to require coordination from a central command center, almost certainly the largest of the Sith Star Destroyers in the vicinity of Centerpoint Station. Only… no comm chatter was being picked up within the vicinity of Coronet City. Then it would be local command only--or even coordination the old-fashioned way, with each unit of troopers memorizing their objectives as well as their adjacent units.

 

She sank into the Force and began to probe the area around Centerpoint Station. The aerospace was rife with the inimitable static and chatter of dozens of dogfights: bomber wings and gunners calmly reporting impacts and secondary explosions, starfighter pilots pleading for help or shouting in triumph, and the death screams of dozens of sapients in a dozen tongues every second. The Force roiled with emotion--Armiena pushed past the static and reached deeper into the capital ships of the Imperial fleet. Something there was bubbling grotesquely, like a turbid, viscous liquid that was boiling over. Draygo contacted the presence for the briefest of moments--she did not dare plumb its depths--and found that it hadn’t extended unctuous tentacles around the maelstrom in a Sith simulacrum of battle meditation.

 

All coordination of the battle was being handled through local initiative, then. That was unusually decentralized for Imperial ground forces--more typical for Rebel commandos… or first-wave marines establishing a beachhead.

 

Draygo pulled away from the Force and opened her eyes. Pale-green eyes flickered towards Kakuto Ryu. “Let’s make some friends, then. Genesis, on the guns and try to keep them off our engines. Ryu, have… fun with the arms and wait for my signal. I’ll look for a point of entry.”

 

Into that chaos McShipface plunged, a hulking amalgam of civilian and scientific equipment amidst the swarms of sleek and swift starfighters. Laser fire was spitting from the freighter’s keel, but Draygo had no time to coordinate fire. Draygo dipped the freighter into the shadow of turbolaser blasts in a set of evasive maneuvers that caused girders to groan. As an emerald barrage grazed the shields and caused the lights to dim, unsecured equipment leaped off the walls and crashed into expensive piles of wreckage. An alarm howled for attention as the ship closed the distance to the Sith fleet, indicating that they had just been targeted by one of Goliath’s point-defense batteries. A flip of a switch focused the freighter’s powerful sensor arrays on that emplacement, blasting it with so much energy that it overloaded the fire-control systems. Blaster bolts bounced off of McShipface’s shields as it raced to the flagship’s hull--but then they were through the defenses, racing along the lines of the ship’s surface.

 

Armiena’s eyes darted from point to point, searching for a specific location on the ship’s superstructure. The ship darted along its lateral trench, racing past gun emplacements and hangars, then up its command superstructure. Finally, she located a singular point that would allow them to make ingress without getting bogged down in the hangar. The Jedi Ace slewed the ship violently to port, bringing the engines to a halt and filling the viewport with the sight of a personnel airlock. 


“Ryu! The airlock! Open it up open it up now-now-now!” Armiena shouted, unbuckling from the pilot’s seat and leaping across the cockpit. She tore open a cabinet, revealing four emergency respirators. They were sitting ducks for Goliath’s combat air patrol and point defenses in these critical seconds.

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TIME CHAMBER

 

 

"Rain?"

 

The alluring sound of distant rainfall reflected all around him. “..But I feel nothing?” Not a single drop of it kissed his hardened flesh, only the soft trickle hissing by his ears ever-elusively. Feral eyes eased the saturation of the extreme pitch black that surrounded him, straining to find a sense of familiarity. There was nothing. "Darkfire. I am here again, aren't I?" The thought alone amused his curiosity, for wherever here was, could not be measured by time or language. Spanning the last several months, the Dark King had continued to set foot here, gradually digesting the ecology of nothingness. There was no end, and by way of contrast, no such beginning within plain sight. What was it that Exodus had uncovered?

 

This unreality was absolute; so entirely empty of light, yet heavier with an essence that existed all around him. This was not just a place absent of luminescence, but rather one swallowed whole by a true and living darkness. Motioning forward, his feet drew across what felt like shallow waters treading stone, invisibly soft against the bottoms of his naked feet. Leaning over, Exodus cupped his hands and drew for the cool liquid beneath his feet; nothing filled them. The King remained, kneeling, searching loosely with his hands to feel out what it was that was beneath him.

 

Was this stone? He pressed an index into it, scratching the surface with the sharpness of his nail. At first, it felt as if it were solid steel, but as he lifted his hand from the floor, a sudden resistance came with it. A little more than feather-like in mass, a noticeable exchange in burden ratio occurred as something rose when his hand did. The soft pressure swept across his forearm, no more than a breeze that danced along the tiny hairs raised from his skin. Smell revealed nothing, and the sound of rain only strengthened as he listened for it. Exodus reached over with his off-hand, noticing the texture of sticky film that tangled onto his forearm. "These are—" his whisper repeated itself three times, never finding a wall or space to bounce from strangely.

 

"..Shadows," said another voice.
 

 

______

 

Exodus woke viciously. Eyes wide and colorless, roaring with awareness inside of the cylindrical tank. Blaring vital readings signaled caution; heated liquefied substances procured to redress the powerful state of the assassin flushed just as quickly as the adrenaline inside of his body peaked above comprehension. The invasive breathing apparatus lurched from deep within his chest and spit against the glass, hammering the intransigent glass chamber. Coughing up the excess, his senses quickly sharpened, taking moments for him to clear his distortion. Raw power smoldered beneath his satiated skin, crawling off of him in nebulous wisps of smoke. His breathing was heightened to a primal capacity, heaving impassioned zephyrs against the full-windowpane. A loud hissing commanded the sound in the room now, tempering the release of temperature and electric vigor originating from the restorative container that housed the Great King. The hatch unhinged and cracked open, releasing Exodus as a beast in perfect form. He stepped forward, absorbing the galaxy with a single deep breath, welcoming the klaxons of war laid before his feet with a devilish smile.

 

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ℌ𝔦𝔤𝔥 ℑ𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔠𝔱 ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰

 

Coronet City, Capitol Square

 

Qaela and her commando platoon picked their way through bits of cover as they worked their way to the edge of the Capitol Square where the enemy sniper was. As they did, they began to encounter resistance from what clearly was not Corellian or even Rebel regulars. Irregular, non-blaster fire began to rain down on the platoon as they hopped from wrecked or abandoned speeders to statues glorifying some long dead Corellian hero. A large explosion hit the AT-ST that had been covering them, blasting a crater in its center and no doubt killing the two pilots.

 

Qaela was not, at this point, overly concerned, but her evaluation of her current foes went up as she saw they weren't just typical Rebel soldiers. That appreciation went up even higher when she had that familiar tingle of premonition from the Force that screamed danger directed at her. Considering the slugs that were used against her officers before and the irregular blue munitions being shot at her commandos now, Qaela was going to play it cautious and brought her lightsaber up to deflect even as quickly sidestepped. Despite her own speed and momentum, it wasn't quite enough.

 

When she blocked the incoming shot, instead of reflecting back like a blaster bolt, the metal slug split in half but lost only a little momentum and continued going forward straight into the front of her right shoulder. The impact was like being punched by an attack droid and it quite literally threw her off of her feet while her momentum was thrown off. She landed on her back and was immediately attended by one of her commandos who pulled her to the cover of the base of a statue. The Krath leathers she was wearing prevented penetration, but were not as adept at diffusing the momentum and impact from the two fragments. Pain radiated across her body as her collar bone was likely fractured or worse and her shoulder didn't want to move like it normally would.

 

The pain sparked genuine anger and fury within her. Until now, she had been fighting mostly with a cool head, calm and in control. Now, she was pissed and could use that fury to fuel her fire. With the loss of the AT-ST and her commandos up against well prepared resistance, she was needing to take stock and reconsider this approach. She wouldn't want to charge into things pointlessly, so now was time to return some pain upon her foes.

 

"Set up shop and destroy everything," she barked out. She had little care of what collateral damage was done and neither did her commandos. The enemy wasn't the only one with explosives, so now it was time to use them. Four of the commandos launched their own thermal detonators at the source of the incoming blue fire while snipers got into position and started scanning for targets. A heavy E-web was going to be brought up from behind them, but wasn't yet here so for now, a fire team got in position and started laying down cover fire at anything that moved that wasn't clearly Imperial.

 

For Qaela, she wanted to know more, to see what was going on with her foe. She stretched out with the Force and got a sense of what was in front of them. There were still some frightened beings not far, likely civilians who were too terrified to run or who were trapped. They were meaningless except as potential hostages. There were perhaps half a dozen steeled minds, alertly focused and extremely complex, not your typical police officer or new recruit, but well trained and deadly.

 

Most interesting was a rather...damaged... sort of soul. Qaela felt that she should know more of what this was, but in the moment, she wasn't quite in research mode and filed that information away until it could be useful. Right now, she had a target and was not keen on scholarly research.

 

With her lightsaber shoulder inhibited from the hit, Qaela would resort to new tactics, one befit of her creed. She was a Sith Master, not a coward, and she would not hide like a Jedi Padawan. Her legs worked just fine, as did the fury that was now fueling her. Shutting down her lightsaber for the time being, she clipped it to her belt to free up both hands and then began diving into the Force. She began weaving the spells of her youth then mixing them with the powers of the Sith until she stepped out and began walking forward with deliberation and fury.

 

With a flick of her hands, she summoned a new set of armor: large granite or duracrete blocks that were rubble from the battle. These formed a half dome in front of her, protecting her from incoming slugs and far enough in front to shield from most explosives. With this new shield, she ran forward, closing the gap between her and the foes, relying on her shield and the covering fire from her commandos to allow her to get in closer and unleash some of the spells she was brewing.

 

((1))


Coronet City: Dockyards

 

With the battle raging throughout Coronet City, Captain Gron'draur wasn't quite sure what the Sith troopers in his hold were waiting on. With the enemy fighters all around, anyone who launched from here was at risk of drawing their attention and getting blasted, so some elected to stay hunkered down. So far, the Sith had not directly attacked the Dockyards, despite rumors of them hitting all over the city. None of the Sith dropships approached the Docks, so they were fairly quiet with tense anticipation of what was to come.

Qaela Sig

Send PM's to Travis.

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Terra’s HUD highlighted the strike on the Sith, and the lightsaber’s extinguishment confirmed the bullet’s damage. There was something peculiar about this Sithling though, it had felt familiar to her, as if the form were familiar. The Sith Forces began to scramble about their fallen leader, like piranha-beetles protecting their queen.

There was… Something…

The Mandalorian took a small breath of anticipation

“HVT, Walker down.”

Harjav’s voice echoing in her ear pulled her mind to the reality. Flashes of armor and weaponry stood out on her HUD. These were not normal Sith troops, but a platoon of assault commandos. The Mandalorian pursed her lips in frustration, her darkmetal teeth grating together beneath her buy’ce. She tasted the metallic burn of sparks. She uncomfortably adjusted the one-point sling her rifle was attached to, the bi-pod retracting with a touch of a button on the stock. Her voice told of her frustration through the gravel.

“Scratch Purple, these are commandos.”

Flurries of movement began to be marked by the HUD and parsed by image-recognition of Hades and Setapoite. The Sith Commandos highlighting readjusted to orange while the 360-degree viewscreen cut to a 180-degree display, emphasizing the newest points of movement. A handful of sniper-teams, firing squads, and something else.

A red hash blinked into existence on her HUD, indicating another HVT. The text-line explanation came with it from hades, scrawling above the slowly moving hash-mark in highlighted aurebesh.

…E-Web…

Terra blinked a command on her HUD, assigning her own sniper-team into action. They would be redeployed for both counter-battery and counter-sniper duty. The Piranha-Beetle swarm parted again in a flurry of blaster-bolts and for a millisecond the Sith’s face was revealed. The HUD captured the still image, a woman in her early years, black of hair, wearing leathers and Dathomiri in origin. Terra’s breathing caught in her throat. Lord Ar-Pharazon’s prize woman and fellow Scorpion-Raider.

Qaela

The rocks and stones of the battlefield around the Commandos formed together into a vast shield, immediately blocking her view of the Sith. Holographic resonance of the shield’s angles in the third dimension was filled in by the viewscreens of her flanking troops, giving the swirling shield of granite and shattered statues the rough shape of a flowing half-dome. The grating voice of Hades churned through her ears, sounding like the corrupted voices of a thousand dead soldiers.

Sith… Magic…

Immediately, calculations began to scrawl to the left of her field of view, and a series of attack patterns blinked into existence, transparently covering the field of battle before her. Terra selected one of the smaller ones, a series of conical orange waves, and blinked an acknowledgement command. Hades sparked laughter and began to proceed. She could almost hear the distant roar. She echoed it in her command.

“Jurkadir, kov'nyn!”

It was another simple command for the reprioritization of targets, and the L-shaped ambush shifted immediately.

***** NPC ACTIONS: HARJAV FIELDGREY *****

The Mandalorian blessed his luck, hearing the unmistakable reverberating detonation of the thermal-detonator as it took down the Sith’s AT-ST. The excitement of victory pulsed through his veins, making him jittery. He could not smell the smoke that curled from the dying grass around him, but in his state, he could only imagine it smelled like a Fawde candle on Life-Day. The thought brought him to one such day ten years past, with little Kyrie singing one of her songs in that nonsensical language of hers while Hayley tried to burn glosswings with the celebratory flame.

A flood of blasterfire streamed over him, cutting short his fond memories, and causing him to crawl swiftly to the cover of a fallen statue. From its form he could tell it was from one of the numerous Corellian Jedi families. They were all the same to him, useless peacemakers who had brought nothing good to the galaxy. He considered his options as the left flank of the Deathwatch forces, and none of them were particularly positive for his own wellbeing.

A shower of permecrete rained down on him as the withering fire from the entire platoon began to fall onto his and his squadmate’s positions. He checked his projectile launcher with a quick sweep of the chamber with his thumb, which settled on the rear of an impact thermal detonator, identical to the one used to devastate the AT-ST. With its ten-meter blast radius, it was a devastating weapon, and one he could use on himself if he were close to being captured. He had no interest in landing in a Sith torture-cell, especially after what that ilk had done to his children.

With a lull in the fire, he scrambled to a better firing position, angling himself towards the spearpoint of the Sith line. A few blasterbolts ricocheted off the statue’s face, but he held his position, taking in the advancing column of Sith commandos. He was nearly in a perfect position being on the left flank of the Mandalorian line to put the entire Sith column under enfilade fire.

Immediately his eyes were drawn to a swarm of stone and statues that made of the Sith’s summoned shield. His HUD displayed the forward progression of the Sith, along with the distance to target.

“Jurkadir, kov'nyn!”

Harjav angled the projectile launcher, watching the projected firing line extend until it alit upon the swirling mass of stones that protected the Sith. He waited a few heartbeats for the sign from Terra, and when he saw a simple arc extend from his position, he calmly pulled the trigger. The shot hardly had an arc, and it sent an impact thermal detonator speeding at 290 meters per second into the left rear corner of the half-dome of stones, where it would unleash pure hellfire in a 10-meter radius.

***** NPC ACTIONS: AORN AND BAS’AR *****

As soon as their charric rounds began to land amongst the enemy, the lovers Aorn and Bas’ar became aware of their folly. This was not an easily routable Sith trooper platoon, full of former criminals and greens, but a fully equipped special forces platoon. Their HUD confirmed a formidable armament amongst the opposition, and Setapoite blared to them an incoming ordinance warning.

As four cylindrical objects whirled through the smoke of the battle towards them, the two Mandalorians jumped backwards, activating their jetpacks with a low-bearing angle so their trajectory did not carry them too high, but enough to escape the explosion radius. The quick burst from their jetpacks separated the pair and set the right flank of the Mandalorian line back an additional twenty meters.

Set back as they were, the pair took up new firing positions, with Aorn taking cover behind a shattered fountain, and Bas’ar finding safety beside an askew landspeeder. Once they had position, they began to stich bursts of maser-fire into the advancing lines of Sith Commandos once more.

***** NPC ACTIONS: ARNA AND LONGKRA *****

From the overwatch position of the wrecked maglift, the Twins watched the battle unfold with grim dissatisfaction. The Sith had lived through their Mand’alor’s attack and though it provided the opportunity for more battle between them, it brought even more danger to their dwindling number. There were so few of the true Deathwatch left.

Arna leaned into her scope, making the adjustments that Longkra suggested, but their HUDs fractionated for a moment and began to highlight a new target as the HVT. Setapoite buzzed as Longkra’s frustration

“…E-web and squad.”

The dark-armored Mandalorian trained her spotting scope and rangefinder upon the red hash on their battlemap, augmenting the targeting data already available. Her voice came again as the words of Setapoite, but with a flat affect. She was calibrating the wind, and since the range was over a thousand meters, the calculation for Corellia’s coriolis effect had to be done.

“1900 meters, up two… right two.”

Arna’s breathing was steady as she brought the reticle to bear on the main housing of the E-web. Taking the dots up and over, she settled the adjusted sight onto the main housing of the Heavy Repeating Blaster, just above the tripod. From their position the bullet from the anti-material rifle would shred the E-web to bits along with whatever was behind and around it.

The Mandalorian was thankful for how far back they were inside the wreckage of the maglift, utilizing the strewn bodies in the interior and cast about luggage as a natural barrier for vision from the exterior. Their firing hole was only about half a meter wide, and they were four meters back from that, which made the position a perfect sniper’s nest.

She settled the butt of the rifle into her shoulder, letting the sandbag beneath it bear its weight, and watched as the bobbing of the scope became reliant on only her heartbeat. All the slack was out of the trigger. The reticle moved in small circles with a pause during the ventricular repolarization. She let out a small breath, let the circle pause, and felt the rifle kick into the shoulder. The rotating bolt and gas reclamation system redirected some of the energy into the reload, which allowed her to start finding her next target.

***** PC ACTION: TERRA *****

The Mandalorian pressed her right hand against the pistol grip of her slugthrower, extending out the weapon into the full extension of the one-point sling, feeling it press into the armor on her back. With the weapon securely held by her right hand and the sling, she dropped her left arm to her belt and selected a grenade from her lineup, her fingers caressing the button layout of her thermal detonator.

Terra watched the dome of stone and rock approach, allowing time for her calculations to finish. With the joint feed from all the Mandalorians in the squad, Hades and Setapoite calculated the average speed of the Sith’s approach, and from that calculated time to arrival. Utilizing that simple information, Terra touched two buttons on the thermal detonator while her jetpack began to preset escape angles. The first of the buttons was the radius determinate, which she set to 10, and the second was the timer.

Selecting 3 seconds, she stood from behind her burned-out cover in a single motion, tossing the grenade underhand at torso-height at the oncoming dome of Sith Magic. There would be an explosive reunion as the Sith closed the gap; Qaela, and both Terra and Harjav’s thermal Detonators.

As the thermal detonator left her hand, Terra’s jetpack ignited, sending her backwards and away at a 35-degree angle propelled by a jump. With the slugthrower rifle at the ready she unleashed a hail of slugs into the exploding world, to end the Nightsister forever.  

((2))

TL;DR

 

Spoiler

 

  • Terra and 1 NPC fire coordinate thermal detonator application at Qaela’s shield dome with 10-meter blast radiuses. Terra’s will hit the front while the NPCs will hit the left side.
  • Additionally, Terra fires slugs into the resulting explosion
  • Mandalorian NPC Sniper fires anti-material ordinance from cover at Qaela’s Tactical NPC E-Web
  • 2 Mandalorian NPCs fire into the platoon of Sith tactical commando NPCs

 

 

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To the Death...

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"Coming up!" Ryu shouted as the airlock came into punching range of Shippy's arms. The ship's mechanical hands formed into fists and began pummeling the airlock. The Door dented, then crumpled as the giant metal arms battered it, pieces of its frame flying off under the pressure of the now thoroughly mangled hatch. One of the arms shattered under the pressure, spitting throwing off plating and servos, yet undeterred Ryu continued slamming with the broken stump. When the gap was wide enough, Ryu reached good hand in the crack and gripped the edge, then tore it off and heaved into space.

Ryu got up and disconnected the cable leading from his neck to the console, then snatched up one of the respirators and ran in the back to grab an adhesive grenade out of the armory. He ran back up to Shippy's own airlock, anticipating Armiena would bring it in view so that they could jump. He tossed the grenade up toward Armiena. "Use this to seal the door when you're inside!" he exclaimed as he put on the mask.

Then, looking at the airlock control, he hesitated a moment, the horrible memory of his time in a vacuum making him sweat with fear. It's a horrible sensation, having your tears boil out of your eyes and your body decompressing, the nearest star melting your flesh while your other side slowly freezes. He only had a few memories to call upon, but his experience of the torture he faced if his time in space was not extremely brief was one that haunted him in this moment.

Terrified but undeterred, he pulled the handle to open the hatch and rode the pressure wave of air sucking him out of shippy into the gnarled gate he'd torn into The Goliath. He drifted only momentarily in the raw silence of space, grabbing onto the airlock and pulling himself against the flow of air that now threatened to launch him back into the void. Before he cloud clear the doorway he was struck by a flailing stormtrooper on his way to his own icy grave, only barely maintaining his hold and avoiding the same fate. Once inside he trudged against the air currents, which became more manageable as he got farther away from the breach.  He secured his footing and death-gripped a support beam on the wall as he waited for his companions to follow.

 

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The Goliath crawled through Corellian space in eurythmic formation, bonded by the structure of behemoth warships that were commanded by their ferocious Imperial brood. The tremendous axial laser deep-rooted inside of the powerful destroyer, hummed and seethed with rage, igniting recklessly into the loose formation of the Rebels, cracking into enemy lines. War spilled over as the two eternal rivals clashed yet again. Furies of the most elite TIE-fighters flooded the theatrical space with deadly execution, honoring their fearsome mobility and tact. Cold metal melted and burned as thick barrages of plasma and energy devoured without bias. CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette Caldwell and Kilchreest did not last the early merits of battle, for their steadfastness engineered a capable defense against the enemy bombers and pushed them into crushing defeat against the EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate Basilisk, not without risking themselves to the opening salvo of an enemy capital ship. 

 

These were merciless times, and the Imperial armada was no stranger to the detachment of it. Brothers and sisters that they had dined with over countless victories, would say their farewells in suddenness of an unforgiving space. The Emperor-King watched closely as the neighboring commands executed their will, while Inquisitor Barca stood remained close, an extension of a might never before witnessed by the likes of these Rebels.

 

 

(Apologize for the late recap. Allied commanders should narrate their own task forces, if they wish.)

 

 

Sith-Imperial Forward Command

 Commanded by Exodus

 

 

Fleet Command (Flagship)
High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Augmentation: Axial Weapon
Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |20/20|


Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence
Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP
Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |20/20|


Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command
Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP
Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon |9/9|
EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |3/1|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |2/1|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell 
|0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound |2/1|

 

 

Sith-Imperial Command

Commanded by Nok Morliss

 

 

 

Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |12/0|

 

 

Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9|

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |9/9|

 

 

Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9|

 

 

 

Sith-Imperial Command

Commanded by Nyrys

 

 

 

Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Fair Lady of Iziz |20/20|

 

Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Jendra’s Song |3/3|

Atani’s Vigil |3/3|

The Lucky Pair |3/3|

Xuri’s Resolve |3/3|

Alpha |2/1|

Beta |2/1|

Gamma |2/1|

Omicron |2/1|


 

In Reserve

Abyss Triumphant (Interdiction Cadre)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Bewitching Lover (Interdictor) |9/9|

Lovelorn Wraith |3/3|

Lust |2/1|

Envy |2/1|

Desire |2/1|

Betrayal |2/1|

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A two pronged attack was being hurled Nyrys’s way, making her thankful that she had not simply charged in. This allowed her to pick her poison, so to speak, and that was an easy choice. Most Force wielding duelists used their powers of telekinesis to move objects and other people, but assassins were taught to think about applications of the Force in unconventional ways. Of the two choices, the fire was by far favorable to the puncturing bite of the stiletto, so in the precious fractions of seconds that Nyrys had, she exerted her will to evade the blade and face the flames.

 

Her armor blazed with eldritch pathways and dark glyphs as hungry flames washed over her. The fire was unnatural, and bit at her like a rabid hound, while the force of it sent her flying backwards. She recognized some of her own hunger in the bite marks. Split second moments of self reflection crashed and tumbled through her brain, questioning if she was truly on the right path. Faces of friends, of happiness, of shared moments crept into her psyche. And yet, her hunger had never been an expression of inner greed, but starvation in a galaxy that often had no place for people of the “wrong” species. It was through her pain and rejection that she had found the people that had come to mean the most to her, other than her parents.

 

Her flesh sizzled under the relentless heat, nerves screaming in agony before falling strangely silent. Mustafar and working in the forges had to some degree prepared her body for how to fight through intense heat, but this was something that even surpassed those experiences. Nothing could have ever truly prepared her for this. Even as the monster inside of her raged at her to get up, to charge forward and tear the thing that had wounded her apart limb from limb, a great lethargy fell upon her limbs. The blast carried her back with such momentum that she actually slid on the dew slick grass once she hit it, eventually coming to a stop several meters away. Would it be so bad to just let things end here? She felt so tired, and as she lay in the grass she could see beyond the liminal sky into the void beyond, a place without pain or despair, only silence. Wouldn’t that be nice?

 

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looking over saw one of her little nephews on Kuat, ginger haired and freckled, he wanted to show her something. She must have fallen asleep on the couch, studying for school was always wrecking her sleep schedule. One of her uncles made a joke about cat naps, but it was the good kind of joke, not one soaked in acid or venom. Something was cooking in the kitchen, these family gatherings always meant lots of food. Frankly Ailbasí didn’t know how her aunt did it in such a small kitchen. Every year her father would offer to host, but none of them ever had the leave to be able to get away from the docks. It seemed like mandatory wartime work shifts were never going to go away.

 

Her nephew started to say something, but was interrupted by a cough. He got out his medbreather, asthma was fairly common in their family. A deep coughing fit tore from his lungs, and soon was echoed throughout the tiny habcube. This wasn’t asthma. The coughing did not cease, and black smoke began erupting from everyone’s mouths and nostrils. What had once been joy upon everyone’s faces was replaced with panic and terror, and blisters of melting flesh started blooming across their skin. Ailbasí felt the heat too, coming from her armor? A final wave of incinerating heat surged through the room, and Ailbasí was back in the park. She hadn’t been there when the Jedi had attacked Kuat, but the burns that she had just now received had given her a new intimate understanding of how her family had died. She saw them now, the way she always saw them in her nightmares, nightmarish parodies of her family covered in weeping burns and denuded by the raw heat of the turbolaser blasts. They gathered around her with twitching, broken gaits, and seeing them made her desire feel shameful.

 

They pressed in on her, but as they laid their hands on her she did not sense judgement from them, only sadness. This was her family, and even through death they were here for her. They picked her up off the ground and came together in a great embrace. She could feel them giving her their pain, their sorrow, their regret, and in time each one had melded into her armor and her soul. Their faces could now be seen amidst the molten surfaces of the exterior, a mark of the truest form of sacrifice. She had wept for their loss since the day she had found out about it, but now she had a greater understanding of their pain, and it had come to reside within her. A ring of fire roared outward from Darth Nyrys, woven of pain and memory. The nearby trees ignited and the grass steamed off its sheathing of dew before also succumbing to flame. Only the Jedi, protected by its innate Force aura, remained untouched.

 

Darth Nyrys looked upon the creature in front of her, and saw in it the same hatred and obsession that had been with the Jedi and the rebels when they had set Kuat to the metaphorical torch. When Exodus had asked her about her place in the Darkness, she had told him that she had wanted to be a righteous devil, and before her she saw someone worthy of the most vicious torments. She would strangle the vile sinner with its own chains and cast her into a pit of flames whose black smoke would form pillars rising up into eternity. 

 

Sacred wrath blazed through her muscles, consuming the false peace that her wounds had tried to seduce her with. Readying her sword, she gathered the smoke and heat that the world was bleeding around her and advanced with terrible focus. Her sword blazed with anticipatory revel and roared a primal, wordless battlecry across the ether. She launched into another lateral movement, but this time she used the Force to redirect her momentum as she closed into a direct charge. The smoke that she had gathered was imbued with the thermal, concussive, and spiritual energies that her armor had stored from the Jedi’s attack, a screaming malformed thing made of both their souls, and launched as a roaring wave with the intent to push aside the Jedi’s spear and disrupt her song with smoldering ash. 

 

Hot on its heels came a downward diagonal strike that sought to capitalize on the potential for an opening. The blade was nearly weightless on the rise but fell with meteoric force, the unseen power of a Sith warrior who properly wielded a Sith sword was in the manipulation of the interaction between the physical world and its mechanical energies. What to an outsider looked like a simple sword swing was both an expression of physical and spiritual might, the unity of purpose expressed from without and within.

 

"Choke on your own hypocrisy, you motherpfasking kath!"

 

((2, forgot to number post 1))

Edited by Darth Nyrys
Added in dialogue at the end with opponent's consent, agreement PMed to Leena Kil
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𝔇𝔦𝔭𝔩𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔒𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯

 

Coronet City, Capitol Square

 

A giant force of high impact metal slammed into the E-web generator casing before it was able to get mounted. Even without being charged, the resulting explosion shredded the device and sent two of the armored commandos flying to the sides. Qaela didn't know nor much care at this point if they had survived because they were likely out of this fight for the next few minutes at the least and were of no more use to her. Though the blast hadn't been of any laser weapon, her sniper teams would start backtracking general trajectory and would find the sniper nest eventually. Once they did, they would respond in kind.

 

What caught Qaela's attention more was the glaring threats in the Force that lit up her sphere of influence. She had expected an attack against her and explosives were the only logical response since blaster rifles or slugthrowers weren't going to be accurate against her swirling defenses. Grenades were a bit cliche, but she supposed the Rebels they were facing had no heavy blaster cannons or tanks to use against her. As soon as she sensed the threat, she pushed out with the miniature telekinetic Force storm she had conjured as a shielding distraction and then jumped.

 

She wasn't sure whether it was the telekinesis or simply one of the stones or rubble that intercepted the grenades and pushed them back, but that didn't stop them from exploding brilliantly between her and her opponents while she dove to the side and the cover of a statue base that hadn't yet been ripped up or blasted apart. A quick glance over the edge of her cover showed her that multiple targets were withdrawing or repositioning using jetpacks and it dawned upon her exactly who she was now facing.

 

Mandalorians

 

It took a few moments while Qaela utilized the relative protection of her cover to process and allow a few things to fall into place. Heavily armored and well skilled Mandalorians. A strangely familiar and decidedly odd Force presence. Various intelligence reports about the leader of the Mandalorian Crusaders the Sith Empire had faced on Coruscant. Memories from many years ago from when she was new to the Galaxy at large and still trying to find how to survive in it. Visions of someone who stepped into the fray to defend Qaela when one of their number decided to try to kill her.

 

Terra.

 

It was a name that surprised Qaela quite a bit because she had thought that the leader of the Crusaders had been destroyed on Chandrila when the Rebels retook the planet. It surprised her more to encounter a former ally aiding the very Rebels who had been so brutally crushed by her forces. The surprise of this new situation drained the previous fury at having been shot and replaced it with a great deal of curiosity. Qaela thought for several moments, then made a rather impulsive decision.

 

"Cease fire!" she shouted at her men, reinforced with a wave of her hand. "Cease fire and remain defensive," she reaffirmed. The well trained commandos, while confused at the sudden order, were disciplined and possibly afraid enough to not question a Sith commander.

 

Using the Force to enhance the sound of her own voice and carry it in the general direction of the cluster of Mandalorians, Qaela shouted out, "Terra, it is Qaela Darksong of the Scorpions. Why are we fighting each other? We aren't enemies!"


Taking a chance, though keeping her senses extremely peeled for any threat or sniper fire, she slowly got up from her cover and, with arms spread wide, stepped out into the open. "Let us have a truce so we can speak as the allies we once were and see if we can find a way out of this situation. If not, we can still go back to the pointless slaughter, but I would like to find out what led you to fight along side these weak Rebels instead of basking the the glory and honor you were meant to have."

 

((2))

Qaela Sig

Send PM's to Travis.

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FLEET ACTIONS ROUND 2

GENERAL FLEET ACTIONS:

Sith:

  • The Battle Line Escort group (Minotaur) is still escorting the Sith Flagship (Goliath)

  • The Hammer and Anvil group (Black Bracer) and the Light Defensive Escort (Veil of Shadows) are still defending the missile group (Moon Beetle and Broken Bullet)

  • A reserve task force is detected dropping out of hyperspace to join the battle

 

Rebels:

  • The Light Defensive Escort (Phobos) now moves to escort Precision Strike: Carrier Group (Enyo)

  • The Rapid Intervention Escort (Seraphim) now moves to escort Destroyer Group: Turbolasers (Alexei)

  • Scans for hidden ships remain inconclusive

 

SITH BATTLE DAMAGE:

 

Incoming Task Force Damage:

  • Carrier Task Force (Typhoon) Damage: 8 damage (Alexei turbolasers) + 8 damage (Deimos turbolasers) - 2 (Two task forces attacking) + 3 HULL damage (Hellriders ignored) = 14 damage AND 3 HULL damage

  • Hammer and Anvil Task Force (Black Bracer) Damage: 6 damage (Sairdonga capital ship turbolasers)

 

Incoming Starfighter damage:

  • Railgun Destroyer (Argent Scythe) Damage: 9 damage (3x Bombers inbound(DELAYED), 2x of them from Enyo vet ability which does +1 damage each, spillover goes to hull) + 5 HULL damage (Ignored Hellriders plus spillover damage from Enyo vet bombers) = 9 damage AND 5 HULL damage

  • Command Ship (Goliath) Damage: 3 damage (Bombers inbound (DELAYED))


 

REBEL BATTLE DAMAGE:

Incoming Task Force Damage:

  • Sairdonga Damage: 3 damage (Black Bracer veteran ability)

  • Alexei Damage - Novarch Akbar: 3 damage (Velvet Ire precision stealth attack)

  • Seraphim Damage: 6 damage (Goliath axial weapon)

  • Deimos Damage: 8 damage (Missile group) + 6 damage (Railgun destroyer) - 2 (Two task forces attacking) = 12 damage

 

Incoming Starfighter Damage:

  • Enyo Damage: 6 damage (2x Bombers inbound (FAST ACTION - resolves before escort reshuffle))

  • Sairdonga Damage: 2 HULL damage (Bombers inbound redirected from Enyo (DELAYED ACTION))

Edited by Ary the Grey

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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The Belarus medium cruiser to the port side of Godfrey's command ship detonated with a flash brighter that nearly anything he had ever seen. 

 

“Status report, and bring a new holographic scan up of that damned stealth cruiser.” 

 

Godfrey seethed as his knuckles turned a pale shade of white, and the plastisteel railing he was gripping yielded ever so slowing beneath his hands. But still, the bombers were doing their hideous work, and doing it well. 

 

There was a chance, however so sleight, that the Rebel Alliance would win the day. Then, with all the blood thoroughly draining from his face, a Taipani officer spun about in his chair. Pale grey eyes met the young officers, who's oiled moustache trembled when he spoke. 

 

“Monsieur! An interdictor!” 

 

And so the odds became a little less even. 

 

__________________________________________________

Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Alexei|

Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp)

LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Ackbar |0/0|

LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Sikaot |6/9|

 

Rebel Alliance Precision Strike Carrier Group |Anastasia|

Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) 

TSC-Tapani Class Frigate Eleanor |3/3|

DP20 Corvette Nantes |2/1|

DP20 Corvette Rennes |2/1|

DP20 Corvette Saint-Anslem|0/0|

DP20 Corvette Saint-Marie |0/0|

TSC-Tapani-class cruiser-carrier Vexille |9/9|

 

Rebel Alliance Rapid Intervention Escort: Timely Response |Seraphim|

Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) 

KDY Victory II-class Star Destroyer Red Hussar |3/9| 

KDY Victory II-class Star Destroyer Silent Spring |9/9| 

 

__________________________________________________

Combined Fleet Group under the Command of Leena Kil

 

Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Sairdonga|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

MCS MC75-Class Star Cruiser: Imperial Momship |17/18|

 

Rebel Alliance Hellriders: |Death Harvest Catchers|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-3-3-4-5 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11 |0/0|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12 |0/0|
 

Rebel Alliance Hellriders: |Sith Eaters|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 0-1 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 1-2 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 2-3 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 3-4 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 4-5 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 5-6 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 6-7 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 7-8 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 8-9 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 9-10 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 10-11 |0/0|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 11-12 |0/0|

 

__________________________________________________

Combined Fleet Group under the Command of Kyrie Eleison


Imperial Knight Expeditionary Destroyer Group: Turbolasers  |Deimos|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

Nova-Class Cruiser Ascalon |9/9|

 Nova-Class Cruiser Edessa |0/3|

 

Imperial Knight Expeditionary Light Defensive Escort: Suppressing Fire |Phobos|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

Star Galleon-Class Frigate Clermonte |3/3|

Vengeance-Class Frigate Chartres |3/3|

Interceptor-Class Frigate Francorum |3/3|

Consular-Class Frigate Tancred |3/3|

Sphyrna-Class Corvette Guiscard |2/1|

Sphyrna-Class Corvette Dorylaeum |2/1|

Paladin-Class Corvette Yağısıyan |2/1|

Free Virgilla-Class Corvette Alexandretta |2/1|

 

Rebel Alliance Lend-Lease Precision Strike: Carrier Group |Enyo|

Taskforce Experience:  Veteran (2xp) 

Quasar Fire-class Cruiser-Carrier Azincourt |0/3|

CR-90 Corvette Maelstrom |2/1|

CR-90 Corvette Languedoc |2/1|

CR-90 Corvette Vivarais |2/1|

DP20 Corvette Coeur d’Lion |2/1|

DP20 Corvette Augustus |2/1|

DP20 Corvette Hussar |2/1|

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Rebel Alliance Fleet Command - Godfrey d'Outremer

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Shit blew up.

 


Sith-Imperial Forward Command

 Commanded by Exodus

 

 

Fleet Command (Flagship)
High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Augmentation: Axial Weapon
Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |20/17|


Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence
Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP
Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |20/20|


Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command
Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP
Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon 
|6/5|
EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound 
|0/0|

 

 

Sith-Imperial Command

Commanded by Nok Morliss

 

 

 

Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |6/0|

 

 

Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9|

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |9/9|

 

 

Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9|

 

 

 

Sith-Imperial Command

Commanded by Nyrys

 

 

 

Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Fair Lady of Iziz |15/11|

 

Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Jendra’s Song |3/3|

Atani’s Vigil |3/3|

The Lucky Pair |3/3|

Xuri’s Resolve |3/3|

Alpha |2/1|

Beta |2/1|

Gamma |2/1|

Omicron |2/1|


 

Abyss Triumphant (Interdiction Cadre)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Bewitching Lover (Interdictor) |9/9|

Lovelorn Wraith |3/3|

Lust |2/1|

Envy |2/1|

Desire |2/1|

Betrayal |2/1|

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It was chaos for me, the heat of battle tearing at my soul even before we engaged. Armiena had done her best to prepare me for this moment, but the Force echoed with so many emotions. Fear, doubt, anger, hatred, bloodlust, death. It echoed like thousands of ripples across the pond of space that sat before my gaze. I tried to tune it out, to focus on the task at hand, but despite it, I became lost in the numerous stories scrolling through the Force. Armiena's words were the only ones to snap me back to reality.

 

With a nod, I headed to the guns. This was my first time, a virgin to the massive lingering darkness at our door that the light tried to peer through. Coping a seat, i drew the gun's controls into my hands, viewing out the port enchantedly. I will confess. It was this moment that i subtly doubted my choice to become a Jedi, the realization that I was meant to take a life bearing its fangs down upon my mind. But before I could linger it in long, crimson bolts came across my bow and my instincts took hold.

 

Crimson bolts met emerald as I returned fire, the shaking of my hands and hesitation of my mind causing my aim to linger into warning shots across their own, a part of me hoping and praying that they would turn their focus away. But this was war, and as I soon found out, it was as deadly as it came. Shots connected with the ship's shields, my training kicking in as I turned the guns toward the fighter and fired away, tears silently strolling down my cheeks as the explosion rocked the chair I was in. With a subtle sigh, I knew I had taken a life I knew nothing about, save for it was trying to kill me.

 

And it would continue as such, just as my gaze fell upon a ship of massive proportions. Darkness lingered within eternally, my form chilled nearly to the bone at first glance, my breath trying to seize. I could feel the ship rock as we assaulted it, and I quickly climbed out of the turret as Armiena called for the airlock. Scrambling to reach the cockpit as I climbed, I could feel Ryu's assualt, the massive arms of Mcshipface clambering away outside. Just as Armiena moved to reveal the respirators, I didn't have a chance to ask questions or think. Like on Coruscant, I simply acted, letting Ryu take the lead.

 

Gathering the Force around me, I jumped from the airlock with propulsion, the compression of space threatening to freeze and crush my fleshly form. But with the Force as my aid, the sensation only lasted a second as I cleared the gap and landed inside with Ryu, igniting my lightsaber blade and glancing around for enemy combatants even as my mind threatened to fog over and leave me beside myself. For now, I was but a wild animal acting on instinct and training alone.

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The Master of the Exorcists watched her opponent fly backward with the strength of Summer’s Song, listening to the Force as it moved about her. There was no change to the mournful song, no melody that marked the departure of the soul from flesh. The Sithling was not out of the fight, which… Excited her?

 

Battlelust was of the Dark Side. There was the pounding of hunger’s laughter within her. Why did it sound so much like Hayley’s tinkling laughter?

 

Kyrie took a deep breath, letting her flames surge internally while her locus of control came back to within her circle of the spear. It was a simple calming technique, to fall back upon one’s training to remove the worry of the mind. The circle of the spear was larger than the control of the sword-circle, which itself dwarfed the circle of the knife. It was how she had been taught on Ord Mantell, the longer the weapon, the greater the circle of control, and the harder the blow to be delivered. It was simple physics and geometry, the tip of a weapon that was longer than another when moved by the same hand was faster at that tip than the shorter.

 

But why did it sound like Hayley? There it was again, Rage and Hunger.

 

The Song intensified, the words flowing from her lips

 

Redde mihi laetitiam flammum tui: et spiritu principali confirma me...

 

The Imperial Knight’s violet eyes narrowed. She let her fire imbue her flesh once more, knitting into the sinew and muscle. A great intensity of strength and energy washed through her. There was something off. Kyrie’s hands gripped the shaft of the spear as she held the stance of Posta di Fenestra Destra upon the forest loam.

 

The Song of Summer had been perverted

 

This Sithling was wreathed in its own flame now, and it somehow held some of the energies of Kyrie’s attack within its armor. A curse dripped from Kyrie’s lips around the song, seeming to spit from the probisci as they whipped at the air.

 

...Maledictus magicae!

 

As if to answer her curse, the enemy’s power intensified, and the attack came. It was a great bestial thing made of the perverted flame and wind, bound with Sith magic. It was bound in smoke, which would act like a shield for the Assassin behind. Storm’s light raged in her flesh.

 

The Master of the Sin Eaters let the form of Posta di Fenestra Destra transform, falling back with her left foot, letting the force of concussive blast send her backwards, but she controlled her stance. She closed her eyes against the burning ash, trusting in the Song’s guidance.

 

Kyrie’s armor smoked, the forest-green cloth that made the sleeves of her armor burning away to ash against the Sith’s onslaught, and pain began to creep into her. Patches of the flesh on her arms turned red and black as they were scalded by the Sith's fire. Pain was a base emotion, and one that she had learned to embrace with her mastery of Crucitorn. She passed the surge of adrenaline and its spike in her fight or flight instincts into her flame. She had to sacrifice everything to fight the Sith, even her human instincts. It was what made her an Exorcist.

 

Held as it was by her head, the spear-saber’s balance point in the right hand and the left hand by its pommel, it was relatively easy to control. Her stance continued to transform, and she allowed the force of the Enemy’s attack to enhance her backstep and help her escape the centerline.

 

The Imperial Knight stepped her left foot back at an angle, as her saber-spear met the physical attack. Her saber’s orange blade embraced by its silver lightning caressed the Sith’s dark wyrmsteel that made the forge-bound Gwn Marwolaeth, and there was a shock down the briar-wood handle of her spear.

 

The Sithling’s strength was impressive, but a sword’s strength meant little to the control of the spear. Even against a Beidhänder, The Circle of the Spear was the best at defense.

 

Kyrie’s grip on the balance loosened a fraction and she guided the pommel with her left hand as her stance pivoted into a right foot forward Posta di Vera Croce, stalling her retreat. Her left foot was now carrying the majority of her weight with a bent knee while her right leg was straighter and stretched towards her opponent. She guided the Sithling’s diagonal strike down and to her left, using the Sith’s reckless strength and momentum against her. Kyrie channeled a portion of her flame into the act and the lightsaber appeared to be wreathed in silver fire as it danced.

 

Once the enemy’s attack’s momentum was passing beyond her own centerline, Kyrie flicked her left hand which still gripped near the pommel, driving the blade up and towards her opponent’s chest and unprotected armpit. It would appear as silver and orange lightning, of unnatural speed due to the circle of the spear.

 

Now that the Sith was closer, The Master of the Exorcists applied her fire in a different way. She poured her flame into a war against the wrath and hunger that drove her opponent’s connection to the Force itself, able now to apply Silence, now that she was sure of the Sithling’s source of power. The Holy Flame itself leapt between the two minds, Kyrie attempting to burn away at the Wrath and Starvation as one would set a controlled fire in a control line to defeat the rage of mighty forest fire. She would consume the fuel that gave the Sithling strength. 

 

Docebo iniquos vias tuas: et impii ad tu destrui…

 

((2))

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Nyrys grinned behind her mask, thrilled to have such a capable opponent. Every challenge was an opportunity to improve one’s measure, and the greater the adversary, the more a warrior was forced to grow. Or perish. This one would be a boon to Nyrys’s reputation if she could be put down. Trusting in her skill, the warrior let her blade leave her hands, sending it into the dirt with explosive force behind the Jedi. This freed her body to move significantly faster, and she evaded the thrust spear tip by twisting her torso sideways which progressed into a roll away from the Jedi.

 

 

She felt the Jedi trying to burn away her darkness from within, and rather than flee from it she spiritually leaned in on the attack. Fire burned indiscriminately, and the connection between the two put her enemy’s own wrath and hunger within range to be set ablaze with equal conviction. She could feel her own appetite for the consumption of mortal flesh slipping away, and while it limited her power, that desire had always seemed… alien to her, having never been particularly gluttonous before she became a Sith. Perhaps it had been imbued upon her by her first master, Sheog, who was known for his cannibalistic gluttony. 

 

She wanted to lash out at her enemy, to destroy the Jedi in an overwhelming display of force, but she had grown so much since her earlier days of recklessly charging every obstacle head on with her newfound power. A direct confrontation of strength and spiritual power would be foolish and just playing into the hands of her opponent, she needed a different approach. So she put aside her own passions and propelled herself back into the miasma of smoke and flame that was enveloping the field. Neither light or dark, but a being of dusk. She had hated the weakness that had defined her old life, and in the clarity of the flames that burned her hunger, she realized that she could not excuse away the sins of the strength that had defined her new life. 

 

“You need me to fight to justify the sickness that you’ve been nurturing inside of you. Because the more monstrous I am, the more excuses you can make to feed your own pfasked up delusions that what you are doing is necessary. But the truth is you’re just as broken as I am, trying to force some measure of control on a galaxy that is beyond anyone’s ability to rein in. 

 

I am not your villain.”

 

Phantoms of past versions of herself gathered around her, snapshots of her in times of weakness and strength, and she broke the chains to each of them in turn, until only her new truth remained. The ghostly figures each had a measure of the Jedi’s flame blossoming within them until they each became a pyre. They surrounded and closed in on the Jedi with haunting deliberation, each one a torchbearer of the exorcist’s own hypocrisy, conjured to bring her own flame back to roost. Even as they left her, Nyrys knew that she wasn’t alone, the memories of her family that she carried with her were more than just her last moments, and they stood by her through vengeance and forgiveness, because that’s what family did.

 

“I no longer need them, but I think that you still do, so hack away at the shadows of the past if it suits you. When the fires die, there will still be enough of me left to go on living. I wonder if the same can be said about you?”  

 

 

((3))

Edited by Darth Nyrys
Chad shouldn't post while sleep deprived

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Seconds of frantic, thoughtless activity ensued. Draygo only had time to toss one of those cheap, plastic respirator masks onto Ryu’s lap. Her hand tapped frantically at one of McShipface’s control boards, setting the autopilot to retreat to a set of coordinates somewhere between Corellia and Duros. Then, rushing down the ship’s interior towards the airlock, Armiena attempted to place one of the masks over her face and toss the remaining mask towards her Padawan. At the airlock, the veteran Jedi only had a second to throw open a maintenance cabinet and grab a single item.

 

And then the airlock opened to vacuum. Atmosphere whipped around her oversized robe and threatened to drag her into space. Items from that maintenance cabinet, left carelessly opened, spilled out and bombarded the hull of Goliath with a collection of hydrospanners, glow panels, and coils of wire and solder.

 

The trio leapt over the chasm between the research vessel and Sith flagship--no significant feat, considering that two meters of null-gravity separated the two ships. Nonetheless, she stumbled and pitched forward, overcompensating for what she anticipated to be a rushing headwind. Instead she was met with nothing--just a cold hallway, lit dimly by crimson emergency panels and filled with only gasping vacuum.

 

Exposure to vacuum was a nightmarish sensation. Contrary to what the holoflicks liked to portray, bodies didn’t simply explode in the void. The reality was worse. Every drop of liquid on the body--blood, sweat, and began to boil. The side of the body that was exposed to the nearest star was instantly racked by intense heat; the other side by cold that approached absolute zero. While the torso didn’t grossly rupture like a bag of rotten melons, microcapillaries and blood vessels close to the surface of the skin would begin to burst. A brief exposure would leave bruises all over the body. More than a few seconds would cause migraine headaches and severe gastrointestinal distress.

 

Minutes, even with assistance of a portable air supply, invariably resulted in excruciating death, whether from progressive decompression or hypothermia or the blind panic that tended to ensue from being exposed to an environment that was as thoroughly hostile to life as the vacuum of space.

 

Armiena kept her eyes half-lidded and deliberately kept her motions slow. Slow is smooth--smooth is fast, the veteran Jedi repeated to herself. In the absence of atmosphere, her footfalls were silent--as was the probable screaming of a Sith trooper who sailed by, attempted to latch onto one of McShipface’s antennae, then lose his grip and drift into space. The loudest sound was the racing beat of her own heart, racing despite her will to not panic. Only at this moment did she glance at the objects in her hand--a roll of duct tape and a high-yield glop grenade. She moved with efficient slowness, wadding up a mass of the tape and fixing the glop grenade to the ceiling--then she armed the grenade and jogged to join Ryu and her Padawan.

 

In the vacuum, there was no telltale chime to alert of an imminent detonation, just Armiena’s internal countdown. At four seconds, Draygo took shelter behind the same support girder as Ryu--just in time for the grenade to “detonate” and spray adhesive foam all over the corridor. An imperfect plug of adhesive foam having formed in the airlock, the shriek of wind began to return along with the atmosphere, but the trio were still trapped within the voided compartment. Making a hand gesture, the veteran Jedi led them to a vacuum-proof portal--a simple and effective armored door that sealed the rest of the ship against the breach in its hull. Far from an automated blast door that would open to allow the passage of entire squads of infantry, it was a one-man passageway that screwed shut with a mechanical lock.

 

Not daring to shout orders with atmosphere at such a premium, Armiena made simply hand gestures, pointing towards herself and ticking down numbers on her hand. Herself--one. Ryu--two. Genesis--three. Matching action to words, the Jedi stood two meters from the door and drew her lightsaber. She stood in a runner’s crouch, prepared to first fight the buffet of wind once the portal was thrown open… and then whoever was stationed on the other side.

 

Edited by ObliviousKnight
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Ruling: Terra vs. Qaela

Well, this is a hard one. On one hand, Terra was magnificent in pushing the assault, on the other Qaela was equally as deft defending and was moving to make the narrative very interesting. Frankly, I want to see the end of this duel. Calling it now isn't really fair to either side, so from the outset I'm going to call this one a tie. Welp, please read below for the explanation, but the win goes to Terra.

 

I was asked to analyze specifically the interactions with tactical NPCs, and I will say both the tactics and actions were fairly impressive. I think tactical NPCs aren't nearly as immune to being able to dodge things as PCs are, and as such some of the escapes could be seen as a little much (while perfectly fine for a PC), but at the same time everything was done with measured skill and concerted efforts. This is the benchmark for how to use tactical NPCs in battle. A further note: the formatting was a bit annoying with the constant titles, I recommend simply bolding the names when they become relevant (definitely keep relevant NPC actions to separate paragraphs as much as possible, that does help to clarify it), and keeping the tl;dr spoiler for a summation of relevant actions as those posts can absolutely get dicey to read through.

Here's how the next few seconds unfold: A Sith starfighter falls from the sky after a particularly vicious dogfight, landing much closer to Qaela's forces. This provides the cover amid the resulting smoke and debris her men need to extract her, as it also incapacitates her from an unexpected chunk of metal that manages to hit her in the head. This fight was going to be more or less a senseless meat grinder for both sides, and the break in action is welcomed despite the loss of chances to eliminate more high value targets on either side of the battle.

Both women know this isn't over. The future demands an ending to this revelation, a conclusion for each to a surprising chapter that has come to an unfortunate and short-lived close.


EDIT:
I missed something very important in my readthrough here. I was assuming Qaela was using her own NPC forces to mostly serve as punching bags (outright allowing an AT-ST and an E-web emplacement to get one shot), but there was one counterattack where thermals were used against Terra's NPCs. This, to me, is a bit over the line. I missed it because the posts still read great and the action in the back and forth was intense. But per the rules and intended mechanics for duels, FUs should not be using tactical NPCs to any measurable effect in duels. As a Sith master, Qaela should be more than capable of facing off with this squad, and is even allowed to rise to the occasion should the dangers this squad presents outgun what she is typically capable of. Duels are meant to be writer vs. writer, and while good use of tactics is part of that, a Legendary NFU like Terra (the equivalent of a master-ranking FU) should be on even par when including the the tactical NPCs Legendary NFUs are allowed. 

As such, Qaela was acting a bit more like an NFU here than a FU. I was willing to brush off most of the NPCs she brought with her because of how easily she was willing to lose them, but when they become actual threats to viable elements of an NFU's combat potential, they cease to be flavor and become tactical NPCs, which is per the rules over the line. As such, the win goes to Terra, who may narrate the ending.

(A final note: the only reason I narrated above is in the event of a tie, where I step in as the neutral party to ensure players have a fair positioning after the dust clears and to understand where they stand and what to do next. I do not do that in the event of a regular winner.)

Edited by Ary the Grey
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Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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FLEET ACTIONS ROUND 3

GENERAL FLEET ACTIONS:
Sith:

  • The Battle Line Escort group (Minotaur) is still escorting the Sith Flagship (Goliath)
  • The Light Defensive Escort (Veil of Shadows) moves to escort the Carrier Group (Typhoon)
  • The Hammer and Anvil group (Black Bracer) retreats from the battle after suffering heavy losses, jumping to the safety of hyperspace
  • Interdiction Cadre (Abyss Triumphant) activates its grav wells, targeting the Rebel task forces Alexei, Enyo, and Anastasia, preventing them from retreating next round

 

Rebels:

  • The Light Defensive Escort (Phobos) is still escorting Precision Strike: Carrier Group (Enyo)
  • The Rapid Intervention Escort (Seraphim) now moves to escort Destroyer Group: Turbolasers (Deimos)
  • The Rebels have found the right frequencies to be able to track the stealth ship for the rest of the battle (Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters)

 

SITH BATTLE DAMAGE:

Incoming Task Force Damage:

  • Light Defensive Escort (Veil of Shadows) Damage: 8 damage (Deimos turbolasers) + 6 damage (Sairdonga turbolasers) - 2 damage (Multiple TF Target penalty) = 12 damage
  • Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer) Damage: 6 damage (Alexei veteran turbolasers) + 3 HULL Damage (Ignored Hellriders) = 6 damage AND 3 HULL damage
  • Destroyer Group - Missiles (Moon Beetle/Broken Bullet) Damage: 3 HULL damage (Ignored Hellriders)

 

Incoming Starfighter damage:

  • Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer) Damage: 4 damage AND 4 HULL damage (2x bombers inbound from Enyo, Veteran carrier gives +1 to base attack, enemy forward deployment (Second use in a row), DELAYED) + 2 damage AND 1 HULL damage (1x Bombers inbound from Anastasia, enemy forward deployment (Second use in a row), DELAYED) = 6 damage AND 5 HULL damage
  • Destroyer Group - Missiles (Moon Beetle/Broken Bullet) Damage: 3 damage (1x Bombers inbound from Anastasia, focused deployment forces damage to shields, DELAYED) + 6 damage (2x bombers inbound, focused deployment forces damage to shields, DELAYED) = 9 damage


REBEL BATTLE DAMAGE:
Incoming Task Force Damage:

  • Precision Strike Carrier Group (Anastasia) Damage: 6 damage (Goliath axial weapon) + 6 damage (Argent Scythe railguns) - 2 damage (Multiple TF Target penalty) = 10 damage
  • Destroyer Group: Turbolasers (Deimos) Damage: 8 damage (Veteran Missile Group, bypasses capital/cruiser escorts)

 

Incoming Starfighter Damage:

  • Destroyer Group - Turbolasers (Alexei) Damage: 5 damage (2x Bombers inbound (one redirected), forward deployment forces damage to shields, DELAYED)

 

 

MOD NOTE:

Typhoon (Sith Carrier) should take an additional 1 Hull damage from last round, I miscalculated the damage from Alexei, ignoring its veterancy status

Edited by Ary the Grey

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Terra landed lightly on her feet, the battle-churned ground sinking under her armored boots. The field of grass around her was pockmarked with craters, loose soil and shrapnel scattered about from where explosives had torn the peaceful capital thoroughfare into pieces. Smoke curled around her from innumerable small fires that blazed in the dead grass, shimmering like a field of stars against the darkness of the Maw. She stepped quickly behind the ruins of a pedestrian walkway

 

Her HUD blazed with various warnings before a few lines of text displayed her squad’s condition. Bas’ar was reading as injured, a blaster wound scorching his left arm. His vitals were worrying, but not at critical instability. She blinked a command into her buy'ce's HUD, ordering the pair to withdraw and seek medical attention.

 

 Kriffing dar'jetii and their armies…

 

The former Mandalore assessed their situation gravely. They were outgunned and outnumbered, fighting a far superior opponent who had evaded their best tactics. According to viewfinding data from her snipers, the Sith had easily survived their tactical deployment of thermal detonators. Without ysalimari, she felt highly limited in her ability to continue the fight. Her eyes wandered across the battlemap, a small rise in her heartrate displaying on the HUD. She looked for an evacuation corridor.

 

Terra opened her commlink, but her transmission stalled as she felt a burning against her skin. She thought it at first a Sith magic, but it came instead from the mixture with which she had painted herself before their deployment. Of three parts it had been.

 

Blackened river mud, taken from the embrace of the raging Kelita

 

Her hands gripped the pistol-grip of her rifle, the texture of the dark metal biting into the leather of her gloves.

 

Ash from the Bac’arger Caldera on Qat Chrystac

 

The Mandalorian’s heartrate decreased, the pounding of blood in her ears subsiding.

 

The Blood of Mandalore.

 

Terra had painted the mix upon her flesh in the symbols of the Mythosaur and the Jai'galaar. She was both Mando'ade and Kry'tsad, and with the Forlorn Hope she would regain her honor.

 

Stepping from behind cover, the Mandalorian advanced towards the crumbling shield of stone and Sith Magic. She stepped gingerly through the smoking grass, the stock of her battle-rifle dug into her shoulder, the one-point harness taught across her shoulders. The HUD displayed the firing reticle, the crimson hash bobbing with each step.

 

That terrible force of power, the Sith Master Qaela emerged, a smile on her face and with arms up in a mocking act of peace. She was speaking but it was far too distant to hear, but no matter what was said the Mandalorian had little interest in it. She had no desire to be placed under some spell or become bewitched by the Nightsister’s power.

 

The Mandalorian advanced.

 

The words were faint now, and the voice of the Nightsister was like the purring of a Slynthbeast, watching a Nerf wander into its web.

 

“-weak Rebels, inste-”

 

A three-round burst of gunfire cut out the rest of the words. The AP rounds tore a trio of small holes in the pale throat of the woman in a tight grouping, sending a spray of crimson mist and splinters of white vertebral bone onto the troops behind her. The Nightsister seemed confused, wavering on her feet, the words of her plea turning to frothing bubbles of scarlet upon her curled lips.

 

Terra squeezed the trigger again, sending three more rounds into the chest of the Sith, center of mass, ripping through the leather armor. The bullets impacted the ribcage, shattering the bone and robbed of their trajectory, tumbled through the lungs and viscera beneath.

 

The Sith took a step forward and stumbled. Before she could fall, the shriek of a twin ion engine ripped through the sky. Terra glanced upwards in time to see a black blur pass overhead, trailing flame and smoke to impact the Sith SpecOps platoon with a gout of flame.

 

The Sith’ body was thrown along with Terra as both were propelled by the explosion into the rubble of the destroyed thoroughfare. Through the whine of the Tinnitus, Terra heard the pang of blasterfire around her, answered by the bark of Arna’s antimaterial rifle.

 

Kriffing dar'jetii and their ships…

 

Terra’s HUD compiled still images of the Sith Master’s demise along with a recording of the Terra’s POV, along with confirming viewpoints from the sniper team and Harjav. The compiled file was uploaded to the darkstream holonet and sent to the Rebel Alliance Command. Terra opened her commlink, directing her traffic to the Rebel Alliance Ground Commander,

 

“Coronet Capital secured, Sith Command Units on site terminated.”

 

The former Mandalore let out a strained sigh and stared into the sky, her body unwilling to move as she let the battle’s tension bleed from her. She slammed a fist into the smoking ground beside her as she began to laugh, letting all the anxiety and adrenaline release into euphoria.

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To the Death...

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The bloody toll continued to rise, and Godfrey sat in silence as the officers made their dreadful report. Holographic representations that had been hundreds of lives on either side began to blip out. Smothered in the increasing tide of casualty lists. But they were strong, the spearpoint was true. Would it find its mark? 

__________________________________________________

Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Alexei|

Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp)

LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Ackbar |0/0|

LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Sikaot |1/9|

 

Rebel Alliance Precision Strike Carrier Group |Anastasia|

Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) 

TSC-Tapani Class Frigate Eleanor |2/0|

DP20 Corvette Nantes |0/0|

DP20 Corvette Rennes |0/0|

DP20 Corvette Saint-Anslem|0/0|

DP20 Corvette Saint-Marie |0/0|

TSC-Tapani-class cruiser-carrier Vexille |9/9|

 

Rebel Alliance Rapid Intervention Escort: Timely Response |Seraphim|

Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) 

KDY Victory II-class Star Destroyer Red Hussar |3/9| 

KDY Victory II-class Star Destroyer Silent Spring |9/9| 

 

__________________________________________________

Combined Fleet Group under the Command of Leena Kil

 

Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Sairdonga|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

MCS MC75-Class Star Cruiser: Imperial Momship |17/18|

 

Rebel Alliance Hellriders: |Death Harvest Catchers|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-3-3-4-5 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11 |0/0|

Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12 |0/0|
 

Rebel Alliance Hellriders: |Sith Eaters|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 0-1 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 1-2 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 2-3 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 3-4 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 4-5 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 5-6 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 6-7 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 7-8 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 8-9 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 9-10 |2/1|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 10-11 |0/0|

Squib Needle Ship: Sith 11-12 |0/0|

 

__________________________________________________

Combined Fleet Group under the Command of Kyrie Eleison


Imperial Knight Expeditionary Destroyer Group: Turbolasers  |Deimos|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

Nova-Class Cruiser Ascalon |4/9|

 Nova-Class Cruiser Edessa |0/0|

 

Imperial Knight Expeditionary Light Defensive Escort: Suppressing Fire |Phobos|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

Star Galleon-Class Frigate Clermonte |3/3|

Vengeance-Class Frigate Chartres |3/3|

Interceptor-Class Frigate Francorum |3/3|

Consular-Class Frigate Tancred |3/3|

Sphyrna-Class Corvette Guiscard |2/1|

Sphyrna-Class Corvette Dorylaeum |2/1|

Paladin-Class Corvette Yağısıyan |2/1|

Free Virgilla-Class Corvette Alexandretta |2/1|

 

Rebel Alliance Lend-Lease Precision Strike: Carrier Group |Enyo|

Taskforce Experience:  Veteran (2xp) 

Quasar Fire-class Cruiser-Carrier Azincourt |0/3|

CR-90 Corvette Maelstrom |2/1|

CR-90 Corvette Languedoc |2/1|

CR-90 Corvette Vivarais |2/1|

DP20 Corvette Coeur d’Lion |2/1|

DP20 Corvette Augustus |2/1|

DP20 Corvette Hussar |2/1|

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Rebel Alliance Fleet Command - Godfrey d'Outremer

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Sith-Imperial Forward Command

 Commanded by Exodus

 

 

Fleet Command (Flagship)
High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Augmentation: Axial Weapon
Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |20/17|


Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence
Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP
Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |20/20|


Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command
Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP
Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon 
|5/5|
EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound 
|0/0|

 

 

Sith-Imperial Command

Commanded by Nok Morliss

 

 

 

Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |6/0|

 RETREATED FOR REPAIRS

 

Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9|

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |6/0|

 

 

Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9|

 

 

 

Sith-Imperial Command

Commanded by Nyrys

 

 

 

Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Fair Lady of Iziz |6/0|

 

Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Jendra’s Song |3/3|

Atani’s Vigil |3/3|

The Lucky Pair |3/3|

Xuri’s Resolve |0/0|

Alpha |0/0|

Beta |0/0|

Gamma |2/1|

Omicron |2/1|


 

Abyss Triumphant (Interdiction Cadre)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Bewitching Lover (Interdictor) |9/9|

Lovelorn Wraith |3/3|

Lust |2/1|

Envy |2/1|

Desire |2/1|

Betrayal |2/1|

 

 

------------------------------

 

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D A R K 

A R E N A

 

 

Lord Exodus stood in silent ataraxis, measuring the counts of his breath. His eyes were shut beneath his lupine helmet as he centered his consciousness, bringing his focus into alignment and honing his zealous killer instinct. A full measure of reticulated muscle tissue inside of his body stirred with anticipation, but he stretched them instinctively, keeping them deft and malleable for imminent function. An enthusiastic display of power was at last necessary; a coming battle that would shed the dreary encumbrance of mercy that the Emperor-King had carried since his return. “Turn out the lights,” an order came to black-out the aft-channel region of the Goliath, killing any source of light within controlled passageway partitions.

 

Exodus was ready and turned his attention to his armour. His plate was an alchemical shell of power, layered with additional golden ablative plates and countless marks of high-imperial acclaim, blademaster laurels and arcane seals hanging from his ghoulish pauldrons. His left hand held his mythical Transcendence, an organic seething-red blade inscribed with a broad-flush of immense power when activated. His right hand harnessed his combat gauntlet, shimmering with a faint trickle of energy and fitted with an esoteric trigger, another early trophy of war. His helm hid the grandiloquence of his name behind an obsidian-golden wolfish front, bearing the jawline of a beast, while the top was adorned with a small familial Anzanti crest. He was a mirage of fiendish splendour; a majestic spirit of the Reaper made flesh and metal, for Exodus was an imperator of the dark side and he bore the honour of his kin upon his shoulders.

 

Dispassionately, the warlord opened his eyes and his auto-senses filled with a pitch-black horizon; a familiar emptiness, nothingness in which only those of his kind were born to maneuver. Yet, he was alone, once more. Exodus put it from his mind as he examined the flat floor, easily seeing through the dark. It was dark-marbled stone and divided into ten-feet rectangular lengths separated by lengths of grating, creating a structured pattern. The far walls were outcropped at an angle, with deep pockets of automaton and quiet machinery. The Sith King marauded the hall, nearing the tracked position of the imprudent boarders. “...foolishly running to their deaths.” It felt much different for Exodus however, vastly similar to prowling a gladiatorial stadium, a winding arena filled with rising seats. In his imagination, it could have held ten thousand of his people, throngs of cheering creatures crying out in eagerness, ready for the killing to begin. The sensation was always euphoria down his spine. 

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Ryu followed Armiena deeper into the ship, taking a position behind her as she approached the sealed blast door. He felt a rising sense of anticipation, preparing to proceed deeper into the hostile ship. Before the door would open though, the light in the ship went out, plunging them into darkness.

Panic set in and Ryu began to breath heavily. The darkness took him back to his prison cell, were he had spent a decade in sensory deprivation. Suddenly he heard it again--the noise he had earlier dismissed as something mechanical inside Armiena's ship. Now he couldn't write it off as such anymore. It was louder now, like he was closer to it, and growing closer by the second. It was rhythmic a repetitive thumping sound, like a drum or perhaps several drums working in tandem. And he was hearing it from inside his head.

The whistle of air came from the direction of the door, and for a moment Ryu thought he saw the skull masked specter that had terrorized him in his cell. He took one step forward and ignited his lightsaber, swing it out from his elbow in a horizontal sweep at shoulder height to maximize his range. When the blade stopped its green light was terminating a few inches past the eye shield of a stormtrooper helm. The drumming grew a little louder as the helmet's occupant went limp and slumped to the floor.

Ryu looked down the hall, and down at the dim edge of the light cast by his blade he thought he saw the specter again, disappearing into the darkness. Streaks of red began to fill the hallway, erupting from the rifles of more stromtroopers and exposing their locations for a brief second before blasts sailed down toward Ryu and his companions. Ryu's saber went dark as he leapt forward to roll out of incoming fire, only to have it reignite in just the right spot to pierce the wrist and neck of another stormtrooper. Ryu still kneeling low, he deactivated the blade again and soon after felt the weight of the dead man fall on top of him. He slid his hand under the trooper's breastplate and stood up, lifting the body up and holding it in front of him to act as a shield to block incoming blaster fire.

In his mind he was doubting whether he should have come with the Jedi to this place. He was shocked by how quickly the madness he had experienced in the cell was boiling back to the surface. But these thoughts were increasingly drowned out by sound of blaster fire riddling the corpse he was hiding behind, and the now ceaseless sound of the drum.

_______________________


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Edited by Kakuto Ryu
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Kyrie felt more than saw the Sithling’s sword, the wyrmsteel glistening in the fading light of Corellia’s sunset pass by her, to plunge its corruption into the forest floor. She could feel the forest’s repulsion by the blasphemous incursion as she passed her locus of control about her, feeling for any continuation of the attack. There was none, and the Sithling leapt away.

The Exorcist’s eyes fell on the quiver of black-feathered arrows on her side, wishing she had brought her barrowyew longbow with her from her ship. At least then she could have dispatched the Sithling from a distance.

The Master of the Exorcists continued to press into Silence, at that bitter wrath and hunger. The Sith was like the Maw, consuming for the sake of power but gaining no life. Such were the ways of the darkside. Eternally seeking power with no longevity. The voice of the Sithling came from the smoke and darkness of the forest, filtering as if from a thousand directions

The Sith seemed eternally able to conjure words from her mouth, even in the heat of battle where conversation was both unwanted and loathsome. The words of the Sith were dripping with poison, taunting the Exorcist of her struggle, that unending discord between her own flesh and the fires of the Force. The Azanti physiology of her form had set a profound craving within her, deep enough to touch the bedrock of her psychology. The yearning was devious and was held within her depths, but it was stirred by the Sithling’s words.

For Kyrie, the depravity of the flesh was a consuming void at the very center of her soul, and she could feel its touch within the words of the Sith.

What was strong enough to stand against that?

The Exorcist breathed in and listened, stilling her disquiet. The hunger gave off no song, no fire of life. Against that darkness there was something greater. There was the song, that ever-present heartbeat of the Force. The promise of life. It flowed around her, caressing her with its melody, drowning out the discordant tones of the Sith’s words with its rhythmic radiance.

Her locus of control moved to her belt and quiver once more as the song moved from her lips. She seized three arrows with her mind familiarizing herself with their fletching and bodkin tips as she added them to her locus, along with her remaining stillettos. She pressed the song against the Sithling’s influence, her eyes finding her opponent’s.

Asperges me incendium, et mundabor, lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor…

That was the inherent weakness of the dark side, even a small candle could hold it at bay, and to such darkness, the Master of the Exorcists was a bonfire. Kyrie’s flesh began to glow with wreathing flames of silver. There was intent to the fading evil and the Imperial Knight adjusted her stance to a more mobile Mezza Porta di Ferro, the guard of the middle gate for the circles of the spear. Pain from her burns protested, but through crucitorn she passed it into her internal flame.

With the guard of the Middle Gate, The Imperial Knight straightened her back, engaging her core and taking a step backwards with her right foot, letting her left foot lead once more as she rose to the balls of her feet. Her shoulders and arms relaxed, and she held the shaft of the spear loosely, her fingers caressing the briar-wood with anticipation. Both hands moved closer to the balance and she gripped the cortosis-inlaid wood with only the first two fingers on each hand, sacrificing grip strength for mobility.

Images cloaked in flame surrounded her, twisted abominations of her past. They felt sick within the Song, and as they approached, she discovered the source of their illness. They were birthed of perversion, warped mimicry of her own flame. To a Master of Exorcists, such aberration was an anathema. Her remaining stiletto knives whipped from her belt, hovering beside her, glowing white with her holy wrath.

As the demons closed in, she struck, channeling her power into her legs. From her mobile stance, the Imperial Knight stepped from the centerline once more, spinning and sweeping her saber-spear in a full arc, the brilliant blade of orange and silver protecting her front while the weighted pommel protected her rear. The sweep was easy to achieve from the stance, as the balance of the spear was close to her center of gravity.

The defensive arc set off an explosion of as the impure fire met with the pure, and from it, Kyrie leapt towards her opponent, her kama trailing smoke. A splash of pain echoed from her legs, a touch of the Sith's impure fire had burned her calf. She had grown weary of this pyromancer who could turn her own flame against her.

The Master of the Exorcists landed in the guard of the middle gate several yards from her opponent, and when she spoke, her voice carried a stutter but a bitter confidence. 

“Turn from your… Evil… Or be destroyed by it.”

A crack in the air indicating the remaining stiletto blades zipping from the raging inferno behind them, her locus of control bringing them up to the speed of sound, angling them for the Sith’s center of mass at converging angles before releasing them. The three arrows she had passed into her locus were used with less finesse, their steel bodkin tips glittering with translucent white fire as they spilled from their quiver, cracking to speed in a whistling swarm, released towards the Sith’s chest.

((3))

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FLEET ACTIONS ROUND 4

GENERAL FLEET ACTIONS:
Sith:

  • The Battle Line Escort group (Minotaur) is still escorting the Sith Flagship (Goliath)
  • The Light Defensive Escort (Veil of Shadows) moves to escort the retreating Railgun TF (Argent Scythe)
  • The Stealth group (Velvet Ire) retreats from the battle, jumping to the safety of hyperspace
  • The Fighter Command Group (Typhoon) retreats from the battle after having suffered heavy losses, jumping to the safety of hyperspace
  • The Railgun TF (Argent Scythe) retreats from the battle after having suffered heavy losses, jumping to the safety of hyperspace
  • Interdiction Cadre (Abyss Triumphant) activates its grav wells, targeting the Rebel task forces Alexei, Enyo, and Deimos, preventing them from retreating next round
  • Starfighters swarm in a forward deployment for an extended length of time (three turns), reducing their effectiveness accordingly
  • Starfighters swarm in a focused deployment around the Velvet Ire as it retreats

 

Rebels:

  • The Light Defensive Escort (Phobos) is still escorting Precision Strike: Carrier Group (Enyo)
  • The Rapid Intervention Escort (Seraphim) now moves to escort Destroyer Group: Turbolasers (Alexei)
  • Starfighters swarm in a forward deployment for an extended length of time (two turns), reducing their effectiveness accordingly


SITH BATTLE DAMAGE:
Incoming Task Force Damage:

  • Fighter Command Group (Typhoon) Damage: 6 damage (Sairdonga turbolasers) + 4 damage (Deimos Turbolasers) - 2 damage (Multiple TF Target penalty) = 8 damage
  • Light Defensive Escort (Veil of Shadows) Damage: 4 damage AND 1 HULL damage (Alexei veteran turbolasers targeting Argent Scythe)
  • Destroyer Group - Missiles (Moon Beetle/Broken Bullet) Damage: 3 HULL damage (Ignored Hellriders)
  • Sith Flagship (Goliath) Damage: 3 HULL damage (Ignored Hellriders)

 

Incoming Starfighter damage:

  • Sith Flagship (Goliath) Damage: 2 damage AND 4 HULL damage (1x normal Bombers inbound and 1x from Anastasia, forward deployment (Third use in a row), DELAYED)) 
  • Destroyer Group - Missiles (Moon Beetle/Broken Bullet) Damage: 2 damage AND 6 HULL damage (2x bombers inbound from veteran Enyo, forward deployment (Third use in a row), DELAYED) + 1 damage AND 2 HULL damage (Bombers inbound, forward deployment (THIRD USE IN A ROW), DELAYED) = 3 damage AND 8 HULL damage
  • Fighter Command Group (Typhoon) Damage: 1 damage AND 2 HULL damage (1x normal Bombers inbound, forward deployment (Third use in a row), DELAYED)) 


REBEL BATTLE DAMAGE:
Incoming Task Force Damage:

  • Precision Strike Carrier Group (Anastasia) Damage: 6 damage (Goliath axial weapon)
  • Destroyer Group: Turbolasers (Alexei) Damage: 8 damage (Veteran Missile Group, bypasses capital/cruiser escorts)

 

Incoming Starfighter Damage:

  • Destroyer Group - Turbolasers (Alexei) Damage: 2 damage AND 1 HULL damage (Bombers inbound, forward deployment (Second use in a row), DELAYED)
Edited by Ary the Grey

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Cut off from her access to the Dark Side, and untrained in the Light Side to any degree that could charitably be referred to as proficient, Ailbasí did what she could to at least reorient the attacks to land parallel instead of perpendicularly. The arrow shafts shattered on her armor, but the stilettos struck with ruinous force even on their sides, and one that had remained unturned pierced through near her shoulder.

 

The fire that the attacks burned with could no longer find any purchase on her soul, having already let go of the Darkness within. She didn’t even have a weapon drawn. Maybe it was the severe trauma, burns, and blood loss talking, but she could swear that she felt strange alchemies within her, the transfiguration of fire and blood resulting from the transgressive use of holy flame on someone who had chosen a new path… or at least had abandoned the old one.

 

She didn’t know what the future held. Maybe her story ended here, after all, her connection to the Dark Side was gone, so there was no guarantee of a repeat of what happened the last time that she had died. She could find some measure of acceptance with that, she just hoped that if that was the case somebody else could put down this monster before it hurt more people.

 

((Closing Defense))

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War. The panorama of carnage that greeted the newly Lorded Mordecai was eerily pleasing to his eyes. The carnage, the pain, the death. He could feel the bloodlust coming on even now. And behind it, faint, but he could feel it even from here. A darkness, in orbit upon the planet's surface, smothering all who felt it. The Dark Lord was here. Mordecai could feel himself drawn towards the powerful Sith. He turned to his apprentice, fresh from her time in the bacta tanks.

 

"Witness. War shall consume the galaxy, and in its glory the Jedi and the Imperial Pretenders will be burned away, like a sickness burned away by a torch. That day shall be glorious. But until it comes, we will make do with the morsels that invasions such as this bring us. Prepare yourself, retrieve anything you need from the ship, and meet me in the hangar. Your first battle lies not in the skies, but on the ground."

 

He turned from the observation glass, stalking towards the bridge's exit. The Dark Lord would show the way. He expected nothing less than for the Spider to be in the midst of the carnage, shedding blood and crushing his opponents who dare doubt the might of the Sith Empire.

Edited by Mavanger
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Her heart began to race as a grin stretched across her face. Kahla could feel the looming darkness, the power being commanded. Her master's speech roused her, finally she would have the chance to prove herself in combat. The glory of the Sith fleets inspired her almost as much as he had, and with her orders she rose to the challenge.

 

"Right away, my lord." She bowed, taking one last look at the battle ahead before leaving the bridge. In the armouries she retrieved a mounted flashlight for her blaster pistol. A handful of red flares, five would serve just fine. Finally, a comm link that would rest on her belt. Satisfied, she made her way towards the hanger. She breathed deep, forcing herself to remember her hardships, the pain she had endured. She let it swell inside her, prepare her for battle.

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Mordecai wasted no time. He went straight to his transport, a dozen troopers meeting him there at his command. They filed in, Mordecai waiting at the ramp for his apprentice. When she arrived, he gave a curt nod, motioning he to board, and as she did, boarding behind her, the exit ramp sealing with a series of metallic clicks. With a shudder and the wail of engines, their transport lifted, launching from the shuttle bay with no small amount of turbulence. The dropship was silent. For the soldiers, it was time to make peace. Most, if not all of them, may not make it back. For Mordecai, it was a time for meditation. To give himself to his emotions.

 

Anxiety at the coming battles. Despite his new title and his proven worth, he knew that any battle could be his last. Even this one. Anger, that he was forced from this conflict before it even began due to the rebel strike at Kuat. Pride at his accomplishments thus far. Contempt, for the apprentice he was saddled with. Despite her promise, she was stubbornly prideful of a false sense of belonging. She would earn that pride here, or she would die. That was the way of the Sith.

 

As the craft drew closer to the Sith flagship, the turbulence began again as fighters and interceptors flew by. They seemed too preoccupied, thankfully, to divert attention to a lone transport and its escort. Good.

 

Upon landing, he was quick to assess the situation. It was dark. The lights were out. Klaxons blared and troops scrambled along the decks, but his own objective was clear. He had felt them. Motes of light floating through the pervasive sea of utter blackness. Rocks made of alabaster and crystal that valiantly broke the tide of seething anger and hatred, chipped away with every breath, every thought, every sense. The Jedi were here. How they had managed to board the Dark King's ship was a mystery him, but ultimately it mattered not. They were here, and he would prove himself worthy of his newest title.

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