| abstract
| - DEEP SPACE, ABOARD THE BLOOD SANCTUM, SITH'ARI DARKON'S FLAGSHIP All the bridge crew was killed, along with a pair of Acolytes who were there, leaving Lord Darkon to stand alone against two Jedi - a Master and his Apprentice. The Jedi have managed to mag-seal the bridge blast doors, cutting off any chance of reinforcements for the time being... Lord Darkon deflected a backswing saber strike from Corran Horn, before parrying another attack, then taking the opportunity to pierce-kick Horn to the stomach, sending him reeling to the ground, as a storm of Lightning erupted from his left palm. Horn is caught squarely, screaming in agony, just as the Force suddenly warned Darkon of a new threat. A flash of a thrown orange saber came at him from the right. Darkon Force Jumped, the blade passing beneath his feet, before suddenly finding himself Force Pushed hard into one of the bulkheads of the bridge, a flash of pain ripping through his side on impact - Horn's apprentice, Tahiri Veila, taking advantage of Darkon's midair position. Grinning, both her lightsabers, an orange and a green one, at the ready, Tahiri charged toward Darkon. Darkon smiled, leaping back to his feet, relishing the pain. "Not bad, Jedi Knight... but not good enough, either!" - he thought, as Tahiri was almost on him, Horn getting back to his feet in the background. Tahiri ducked low, sweeping both her sabers in a scissor-attack at Darkon's midsection, but he jumped, flipping in the air, parrying one saber and evading another, before landing behind Tahiri's back. Spinning around, Tahiri tried a surprise backspin kick at Darkon's temple - but her foot is intercepted by the hinge of Darkon's right palm in a classic Teras Kasi defence posture, just as his own left foot shot out in a direct hammer-kick to Tahiri's spinal column. "AAAHHH!" - Tahiri screamed, as she felt a slight crack in her spine, which is now broken... before she plopped to the deck, crippled from the neck down. Lord Darkon was about to bring his crimson lightsaber down on her, but Horn's renewed attack compelled him to deal with the Jedi Master first. He rolled to the side, a split-second before Horn's Force Jump ended, his violet lightsaber almost cleaving Lord Darkon in two. Almost before he even hit the ground, Horn was already springing again at Darkon - an attack which Darkon met in midair, crimson blade against Horn's violet one. As they landed back down to the deck, the two engaged in a vicious close-blade duel. Horn's expertise in the dreaded Juyo lightsaber form proved to be almost too much for Darkon's refined Shien to handle, and he was compelled to fall back, adopting defensive Soresu, and parrying the unpredictable slashes and stabs frantically, while taking a shallow burn across his chest from Horn. However, Horn had clearly missed the fact that Juyo has its drawbacks... leaving its user more vulnerable to Force attacks. Force Push - Horn is flung almost ten meters backwards, landing in a heap. Lord Darkon immediately followed the attack up with Force Destruction bolt, but Horn managed to establish his own Force Absorb in time, and Darkon's attack was absorbed and dissipated. However, the break did stall Horn's offensive, allowing Lord Darkon to reestablish the initiative again. Adopting a Makashi, Contention form, which grants the user extra resistance to Force effects, Darkon Force Speeded toward Horn, a blur of crimson-hued motion. Eyes widening, Horn attempted to ground Darkon's charge with Force Push, hoping to break his Speed effort, but the Makashi form allowed Darkon to resist the Push well enough to maintain his Speed. Horn rolled back, as Darkon's lightsaber bit into the deck where he just was, before he applied his own Force Speed, desperately parrying a blurred flurry of attacks, hoping to match Darkon's increased alacrity in time. But Darkon held the initiative, and even as Horn's Force Speed became active, he was already on him... Feinting low, then snapping to the right, Darkon maneuvered Horn into an instinctive attack, as he traversed his balance to the other foot, then entered a brief horisontal midair spin, simultaneously deflecting Horn's follow-up slash with his blade, upon landing back to his feet, point-blank to Horn in a low crouch, before his right elbow found Horn's solar plexus. Horn staggered backwards, moaning out of breath, as Darkon traversed his lightsaber to a backhand grip, spinning around and impaling Horn through the chest. Without a sound, the Jedi Master collapsed to the deck, dead, before a massive release of Force energy erupted from his body. Lord Darkon stood above it, allowing the energy to wash over him, empowering him, as a squad of RTSE troops finally managed to bypass the mag-sealed blast doors that Horn and Tahiri closed behind them. "Lord Darkon?" - the squad leader called. "The situation is under control, Commander." - Darkon replied in a steely calm voice, belying his anger at this blatant intrusion the Jedi have managed aboard his flagship, as he walked back to Tahiri's prostrate figure. Tahiri stared at Darkon, motionless from paralysis, eyes wide with fear and rage, as the RTSE troopers approached. "What do we do with this one, Master?" - the commander asked. "Take her to the cell block, and prepare an interrogation chamber. It will be instructive to learn precisely how did the Jedi manage to learn our location... as well as where the rest of those worthless animals are hiding out. They must be desperate indeed to send an assassination team to try and take me on my own flagship! Still, one must admire the audacity... and their success in getting this far." - the last sentence spoken in a low growl. The troop commander flinched. "My lord, the security measures..." - he is cut off by a bellow from Darkon: "WERE INADEQUATE! But the fault does not lie with you there, commander... but with the Blood Sanctum's chief of security. And after the interrogation of this Jedi is over, he and I shall have a little talk, about his failure, and the price to be paid for it." "Yes, my lord." - the commander said, swallowing hard, before he motioned for a pair of troopers to hoist Tahiri off the deck and drag her away. "I WON'T TELL YOU ANYTHING, SITH BASTARD!" - Tahiri yelled in a pained, defiant tone, as she was being dragged away. Lord Darkon only gave her an indulgent smile. "Oh yes you will, my dear... one way or another." - before waking to the forward bridge viewport, and thinking: ~~ MON CALAMARI, CAPITAL CITY A hooded female figure sat in a corner seat of a half-full tram car, traveling on a monorail through the glittering aquatic cityscape, on the way to the lower underwater levels, where the main planetary New Republic garrison was located. Outwardly dressed in a simple commoner apparel, the person seemed totally nondescreipt, just another human commoner in a city populated by a wide variety of many galactic species. A perfect cover for a perfect Sith shadow-agent... "Neutralizing the New Republic command infrastructure of this sector, in preparations for the RTSE invasion... such a seemingly straightforward task the Master had given me. Of course, every assignment looks that way at first... but this shall be a challenge indeed! The garrison is a fortress, even not counting the Mon Calamari security itself. Those disgusting tadpoles certainly do not scrimp on security measures..." - Deathstrike thought, as the car came to a stop at the station she wanted, and the people began piling out. Standing up to follow, Deathstrike suddenly noticed a pair of other hooded human figures standing some distance away on the street, looking in the direction of her car. A brief exchange of Force messages told her that those were her two Acolyte team members. In a minute, the three of them were off the street, diving into a maze of back alleys surrounding the massive New Republic garrison complex, and losing themselves in the crowd, before finally arriving at an abandoned warehouse - their safehouse and staging area for the mission. Two more Acolytes were there to meet the group. "I've finished the reconnaissance of the garrison's spaceport on the upper levels." - Deathstrike began without preamble - "The spaceport is given over solely for the New Republic military use, and it's connected to the garrison complex with its own network of access turboshafts." "So the New Republic command staff would have a clear way of escaping if we only went in from below?" - one Acolyte asked. Deathstrike nodded in response, before answering: "Mmm... this will have to be a twin-pronged ingress. The two of you will infiltrate the spaceport, and disable the turboshafts leading to the garrison. Keep a low profile, perhaps disguising yourselves as standard maintenance, until you receive a Force message from me that the trap is sprung. And then... cut off their escape, and leave them trapped in their little bunker base, as we proceed to hunt them down and kill them!" - she finished with a wicked grin. "So you three get all the fun..." - one of the two muttered under his breath. "Relax, my dear... once the trap is sprung, and the turboshafts are down, feel free to slaughter any of the pitiful Republic troops that cross your path! Especially any of their maintenance personnel who may try to restore the shafts..." - Deathstrike reassured him with a wink, before turning to the other two: "And the same applies for you two... once inside, I want you to cause as much chaos as you can! Kill everyone and everything you come across, but don't allow yourselves to get pinned down, caught up in an extended battle, or do anyting more than stir up trouble... stay mobile, and keep diverting the garrison's attention... while I slip through, into the inner command sector, hunting down and slaughtering the command staff themselves! Afterwards, I shall descend to the garrison's power plant, and set charges around the coolant assembly. With the command staff lost, and the garrison itself gone, the New Republic sector fleet will be in disarray, while this planet shall be dealing with the aftermath of the destruction... just as our forces arrive to begin the invasion itself. Everything will transpire as the Master predicted..." "Understood, Lady... do we move out now?" - one of the other acolytes asked, voice eager. Deathstrike thought about it briefly, but finally shook her head: "Not yet... we'll wait for nightfall. Catching them during a night shift, when most of them are asleep, shall only add to our element of surprise. But the two of you will proceed to the surface immediately, and take time to locate a suitable pair of technicians for you to impersonate. Monitor their daily routine, and find the right moment to pounce on them!" The two Acolytes nodded, before slipping out of the warehouse. Leaving the other two on-site to prepare the equipment to be used tonight, Deathstrike also decided to make another round of the garrison outskirts, and pinpoint the best possible entry point. ~~ NAR SHADDAA, INDUSTRIAL SECTOR The backdrop of the glittering city was lit with reflections from the explosions and flashes of blaster and disruptor fire, as the advance forces of Gargonn the Hutt's crime empire converged on the Black Sun run Preybird fighter manufacturing facility, in an attempt to take it over. The battle had begun only hours before, with Gargonn's army of thugs and hired mercenaries making a surprise attack. Ever since, the Black Sun defense forces were on the back foot, outnumbered and outgunned. In the Black Sun manager's office... "Status report from Position 12, Boss - those bastards have overrun the checkpoint, and are trying to break into the manufacturing plant. Our guys won't last much longer there!" - a harried and bruised subordinate ran up to a corpulent-looking Zeltron, the Black Sun boss of the plant, named Krexon. "Sithspit! If they seize the plant, this whole thing'll be for nothing!" - Krexon snarled, pushing the man away, and getting to the dedicated comm panel with his mercenary chief of security: "Kiara, do you read me?!" - he barked. For long moments, only the frenzied sounds of pitched battle are heard from the link, punctuated with screams and blaster shots... ~~ The Trandoshan swung a massive vibrosword at Kiara's head. She blocked the attack with her cortosis-laced vibrodagger, but the force of it knocked her down to the ground. As he roared, lifting the sword for a finishing move, Kiara's face remained mostly impassive, as she dropped the vibrodagger, lunged up, and grabbed the Trandoshan's sword hand with both of hers, twisting the wrist sharply to the side, and breaking it. The Trandoshan roared in pain, as Kiara dragged him down beside her, before pinning his other arm to the ground under her knee, and slamming her fist hard in the alien's mouth, with a simple, brutal direct. The Trandoshan's front teeth breaking under the blow, Kiara followed up with several more directs in rapid succession with both fists, each one as powerful as the first one, transforming the front of the Trandoshan's head into a bloody mush, dimly reflected in the mirror glass of her sunglasses by the low light, shattering the nose and jaws. Then she grabbed the alien, and slamed his head into the durasteel wall next to her multiple times, until his skull split open, killing him, the brains flowing out. Just at that moment, the last of the Black Sun defenders with her is killed by a barrage of repeating blaster fire around the corner, his corpse flying backward to the ground. Picking up her customized Tenloss disruptor rifle, which she dropped when the Trandoshan rushed her, Kiara lunged around the corner, dropping prone under the continuing blaster barrage, beginning to fire almost before she could see the enemy, relying on instinct. Her white disruptor bolts flashed forward, striking the two sprinting mercenaries. One was hit by a pair of shots, one in the stomach, one in the chest, while the other took a shot to the knee, collapsing with a shriek to the ground. Springing up again, Kiara approached the merc at a run, quickly ending his misery by stepping hard on his windpipe, crushing it. "KIARA?!?! Answer me!" - came a roar from her commlink, as Krexon continued to hail. "Kind of busy here... and you know I don't like it when you raise your voice at me. Don't do it again." - Kiara responded, her voice cold and ruthless. "Whatever... we've got a problem! They've overran Checkpoint 12, and are trying to break into the plant! I've got a half-squad closing on them, but I want you to go in with 'em - I don't think they can handle it themselves." - Krexon ordered. "That's why you hired me, Zeltron... to solve problems. I'm on my way." - Kiara answered, voice remaining excrutiatingly calm and ice-cold, before she closed the link. ~~ Krexon leaned back in his chair, shaking his head: ~~ Meanwhile, Kiara proceeded to meet up with Krexon's advance squad. In one of the warehouses, however, she came across a full squad of 12 more Gargonn's thugs, just entering from the opposite direction. One of them, a Weequay, was dead before even lifting his blaster carbine, the other, a Twi'Lek woman, taking a disruptor bolt to the forehead a second later, snapping off a shot in death reflex, before the rest dove back out of the warehouse, taking cover from Kiara's continued disruptor barrage. Kiara moved to take cover behind a large piece of machinery, as a few of the enemies leaned in to take a few shots, and throw a frag grenade in. One shot came directly at Kiara, but she rolled in mid-run, anticipating it, and the blaster bolt flashed over her, just as she came back up at her feet behind her cover, which partially protected her from the grenade's explosion, but a few shrapnels still lodged themselves in Kiara's left shoulder and just below the neck, while the shockwave made a burn across her face, her sunglasses protecting her eyes. Gritting her teeth, Kiara took a few more shots to keep the enemy pinned, before unclipping a thermal detonator from her belt, and throwing it at the far entrance the thugs have taken cover behind. The detonator rolled to just behind the entrance point, before detonating, the death screams of the enemies echoing towards her. Exiting the warehouse in the midst of charred and disfigured corpses, inhaling deeply the stench of burning flesh, Kiara continued on her way, ignoring the pain, before meeting up with the advance group just at the end of the courtyard before the manufacturing plant. "Hey! What took you so long, chief?!" - one of the mercenaries asked. "I was delayed." - Kiara responded, not breaking stride. "Can you..." - the merc started, taking in Kiara's wounds, but was instantly interrupted as Kiara suddenly turned to glare briefly at him, before adding: "Let's kill something." - in the usual cold, ruthless voice, already starting her half-crouch advance on the manufacturing plant's back entrance, disruptor rifle at the ready. "Right behind you..." - the merc grinned, priming his blaster carbine, as the rest of the group followed the two of them in. The ensuing battle was brief but brutal, with Kiara's group taking Gargonn's men by surprise inside the manufacturing plant. Five of Kiara's mercs fell in battle, but in turn, they managed to neutralize every one of the enemy mercs - twenty of them. The last four of the enemy mercs tried to take cover inside the foreman's office, where two of Kiara's mercs kept them pinned down, but couldn't storm the room to finish them off. Shaking her head at the incompetence, Kiara simply threw another thermal detonator into the office, killing the four mercs, but also the two on her side, who were too close to the detonation. "What the frag... chief, why'd you DO THAT?!" - the last merc snarled at that, turning toward Kiara, who ignored the question, motioning for him to take position at the front entrance, and watch for any more enemy forces. Muttering under his breath, the merc moved off, thinking: "Blast it... she's kriffin monster!" - while Kiara pulled out her commlink: "Problem solved, Zeltron." - she said coldly, her voice betraying none of the pain she was feeling from the embedded shrapnels and the burn across her face. "Good job, killer... I've just had some of our pilots launch in the Preybirds to drive the rest of 'em off. We've won!" - Krexon's satisfied voice came back. Kiara said nothing, simply closing the link, hoisting her disruptor rifle back across her back, and walking out of the warehouse, on her way to the compound's medical facility, with a slight contemptuous smirk on her face. ~~ DANTOOINE, IMPERIAL BASE Major Ratus rose to his feet as the door to his office opened. In walked a brown-haired, muscular mercenary with a black eye-patch covering his left eye. Botos had met with the man many times in the past, and had been expecting his arrival. "It's good to see you've returned Raze, I take it the mission was a success?" the Imperial officer asked. "If it wasn't, I probably would be reporting to you now." the man called Raze responded dryly, "Anyway, about ninety-five percent of the POWs were rescued from the Republic prison, along with Captain Vekar." "Excellent." Ratus remarked, as he opened a drawer in his desk, pulled out an envelope and handed it to Raze, "Your pay, as we agreed." Raze opened the envelope and checked through the contents, before nodding and putting it in his pocket. Botos shifted a little as he spoke again. "Now, we need to talk about your future employment with us." the major began, "If you didn't already know, the Empire's supreme leader, Grand Admiral Gilad Pellaeon, has begun negotiating cease-fire agreements with both the New Republic and the Reborn True Sith Empire. If they both go through, which seems likely, you're current missions against the Rebels will be stopped, and you'll likely be put on missions against pirates and smugglers." Raze's face showed his disapproval of the idea, but Ratus continued. "Your salary will stay the same, and we'll strive to give you the most "worthy" enemies to fight. Command wants to keep a good man like you on our payroll." "So that I don't wind up working with the Rebs or the Sithies, eh?" Raze chuckled. "Well, that is part of it." Ratus admitted, "But we do want you working for us if one of them decides to double-cross, which wouldn't surprise any of us in the least." "I don't like the concept of sitting around playing with smugglers while waiting for a betrayal that may never happen." Raze remarked, "Besides, if I wanted to fight criminals, I'd go to back to Hutt space." "And then there's my other offer; I've been authorized to offer you a commission as a colonel in the Imperial military, full pay and benefits, no questions asked." Ratus continued, seemingly ignoring Raze's last statement. "You know I don't like getting tied down long-term, that's why I always took individual missions with you guys. Besides, if the Empire winds up dropping out of the war, what am I supposed to do? Sit at a desk and order subordinates to lick my boots while I battle kilometer-high stacks of flimsi?" Raze scoffed. "I figured you wouldn't go for it." - Ratus remarked at Raze's response. "Indeed." Raze said, turning toward the door, "I'll be here on Dantooine until I get word on those peace deals, then I'll decide what to do from there. If another job comes up, you know how to contact me." "Of course." Ratus muttered as the mercenary left the office. ~~ RHEN VAR - FORWARD RTSE STAGING AREA FOR THE IMPENDING INVASION OF MON CALAMARI SECTOR - CONTESTED RTSE OUTER BORDER The Blood Sanctum had arrived approximately 7 hours ago, joining the sizable RTSE task force already there, consisting of 8 Kurgarin class Sith Destroyers, 12 Karas class Assault Cruisers, and 24 Munja class Escort Frigates. With two half-sized backup forces already assembled at nearby Felucia and Belderone, the RTSE invasion fleet is in position to begin the multi-vectored assault. All that was left is Lord Darkon's order to attack... Lord Darkon was in the middle of a habitual combat exercise in one of the flagship's training rooms, when Admiral Zavron, his advisor aboard the Blood Sanctum, called over the intercom: "My lord, the last intelligence report has just been received from our scouts within the Mon Cal sector." His flow of movements and actions in a sparring match against five Acolytes not breaking even for an instant, Darkon simply sent a Force message to Zavron: "Acknowledged, Admiral. Await my arrival in 20 minutes." - before once again focusing fully on the match. ~~ Zavron nodded to himself, muttering under his breath: "Don't think I'll ever get used to that..." - before he dismissed the lieutenant who brought him the datapad with the report, and seated himself back into the command chair. ~~ In another 10 minutes, Lord Darkon's practice session was finished, with all 5 Acolytes defeated and incapacitated, two of them severely wounded and sent to sickbay. As usual during training and exercise sessions, however, Darkon stayed his hand when it came to the killing strike. With several bruises and shallow burns of his own, he left the sparring room, thinking: With those thoughts, he arrived to the ship's Intelligence center, two levels below the bridge. The Director bowed at Lord Darkon's approach. "We have acted on the information you extracted from miss Veila, before she expired, my lord. As we now know the remains of the Jedi are hiding out somewhere in the Hapes cluster, no doubt counting on the protection of their Hapan allies and the presence of the Transitory Mists themselves to conceal them from us until they have rebuilt, advance units have been deployed to scout the Mists, and find a suitable infiltration point for our agents into the Hapes Consortium. It will not be easy, of course..." - he finished his report. Darkon nodded. "Indeed... even during its height, the Galactic Empire failed to subdue those stubborn Hapans. With the Mists as a natural barrier against invasion, and their own determination to remain independent, it will be a challenge even for the might of the RTSE! Especially with our war with the New Republic being a higher priority at this time. Not surprising that the Jedi cowards would seek refuge there... but it shall not help them in the end. For now, however, the conquest of the New Republic must take priority over the eradication of the remnants of those pests. Unless they decide to come out and assist the New Republic, of course..." - Lord Darkon finished with a wicked smile, that the Director echoed. "I'm sure they could, my lord... their philosophy will not permit them to simply stand by and do nothing as their precious New Republic is conquered. Even as diminished as they are, they will make an appearance, when the force of our push against the New Republic increases." - he said. "That is what I'm counting on..." - Lord Darkon responded, exiting the room, and resuming toward the bridge, thinking: With that, Darkon stepped off the bridge turbolift, and entered the bridge itself through the aft blast doors, walking down the long command walkway to the command chair, and Admiral Zavron. Zavron stood up, and bowed at his approach: "My lord, here is the report." - handing Darkon a datapad, before continuing: "The New Republic sector fleet is dispersed throughout the sector, with the majority of it in defensive position over Mon Cal itself. Two dozen MC80 cruisers, with fifty or so Nebulon-B Escort Frigates, and the two Golan III defence platforms in orbit over Mon Cal. Intercepted transmissions suggest that they have scanned our positions, and know that we are likely to attack soon. All of their attempts to send a request for reinforcements to the Core Worlds were scrambled by our scouts, and our Interdictors positioned at the major trade routes from Mon Cal have prevented any of their courier ships from breaking out of the net." "Excellent..." - Lord Darkon smiled in satisfaction - "And when my apprentice completes her mission, and their command structure is disrupted, their lines will descend into chaos, not having a supreme authority to coordinate the defence efforts. We will destroy them piecemeal, with minimal losses on our side." "If they were smart, they would launch a preemptive strike at our positions here, to keep us off balance... they would lose some of their assets, but so would we, and we would no longer have a clear initiative." - Zavron remarked contemptuously. "Indeed, Admiral... but they have adopted a siege mentality. And that will be their undoing." - Lord Darkon mused, dismissing Zavron with a wave of his hand. ~~ MON CALAMARI - THE NEW REPUBLIC GARRISON - PRIMARY COMMAND CENTER "No report from our couriers sent to the Core Worlds yet, sir." - an aide approached, handing a datapad to Admiral Ackbar, voice concerned. Ackbar remained silent for a few seconds, studying the datapad, before speaking in his gravely Mon Calamari voice: "The Sith must be applying interdictors to prevent our ships from breaking out of the sector. A clever tactic indeed... we must neutralize the interdictors, if we are to have any hope of summoning reinforcements in time to aid us!" - he growled, turning to his chief subordinate, General Rieekan. Just as Rieekan was about to respond, an alarm suddenly sounded out throughout the base, along with a panicked voice over the garrisson-wide intercom: "Full security alert! We have unknown intruders in the outer garrison sector! Looks like Sith... no specific information, since they've already sabotaged the internal sensors in that area. Several security checkpoints are not responding!" Rieekan's intended response to Ackbar was cut short, as he snarled just one word: "Infiltrators!" Ackbar turned to the intercom: "Initiate lockdown of the inner sector, and dispatch troops to deal with the intruders, Commander. And find out exactly what we're up against!" "Understood, Admiral!" - the voice came back, noticeably less panicked than before. ~~ Sweeping her lightsaber across three incoming blaster bolts, and sending them back to their source, killing the soldiers who fired them, Deathstrike overheard the same sentence. Smiling viciously, she thought: Sending a Force message to her two accomplices to continue diverting the garrison forces, Deathstrike proceeded to the outer security station, intent on killing the garrison commander, and depriving the Republic troops of coordination and command, since the schematics she downloaded also indicated that the main comm channel from the Command Center to the rest of the garrison was also routed through the computers there. Running down the corridor, a half-squad of Republic troops suddenly emerged from one of the rooms she just passed. As their rifles shift to track her... Force Jump - the first bolts passed beneath Deathstrike, through empty air. As the troops shift their aim, Deathstrike changed the trajectory of her jump to the corridor wall, deflecting a pair of shots in the process, one of them killing one of the troopers, and using the wall to rebound herself directly at the troopers. Force Deadly Sight - as the troopers' attention is skewered by their rapidly superheating skin, they lost their focus for a pair of seconds - all the time Deathstrike needed to slaughter all the rest them in a brutally elegant combo of slashes of her double-bladed crimson lightsaber. Suddenly, a Republic Officer came around the far corner of the corridor, hand reaching to draw her sidearm... just as a soft whisper of air is heard, before the gleaming hilt of one of Deathstrike's assassin knives had suddenly sprouted in the center of her chest. Even as she collapsed with a death scream, Deathstrike was already running past her, Force Pulling her knife back to her hand, continuing on her way to the security station. ~~ "Sir! Contact lost with another checkpoint!" - one of the troopers at the security station exclaimed to the Commander. "Send more troops! We've got to isolate those infiltrators before..." - the Commander began, just as one of the still-functioning security cameras finally caught a glimpse of one of Deathstrike's Acolytes. "Oh... blast it! Looks like - real - Sith... ones with the Force!" - he muttered in dismay. ~~ That Acolyte had just entered the garrison's upper level, continuing to evade large concentrations of Republic troops, while ambushing and killing any and all who came across him, and bypassing the lockdown commands, by cutting through the sealed doors with his lightsaber. So far, he had killed over a dozen troops. The other Acolyte was doing the same at the other end of the garrison... providing an equally effective distraction. ~~ Deathstrike reached the security station's outer monitor area, and the mag-sealded doors to the station itself, while killing several more troops on the way. For the first time, the Commander can see her clearly by the camera over the doors, just before the camera is destroyed by a lightsaber slash... the doors beginning to glow red from the heat... "Oh, no... whoever that Sith is, I get the feeling we're in trouble..." - he muttered, motioning the two dozen troops with him to assume ready positions, weapons aimed at the melting doors, while patching the security footage to the Command Center, and Ackbar. ~~ Ackbar, Rieekan, and the rest of the command staff gaze at the frozen last image taken by the security station camera, and the tattooed, intensely athletic looking slender woman in a revealing leather outfit, holding a double-bladed red lightsaber. "Is that..." - Rieekan began uneasily, before Ackbar interrupted him: "Yes. Darkon's apprentice herself... Deathstrike." - in a voice even more gravely than standard Mon Cal norm, thinking: ~~ At that moment, Deathstrike broke through the door's mag-seal, and the damaged doors slid open. A withering barrage of blaster fire came through the entrance - flashing through empty air, since Deathstrike could sense the troopers' ambush as soon as they took positions in the first place, and had instantly leaped out of the way once the doors were opened. "Death whispers at you from the darkness..."- she thought, with an eager smile, reddish-green eyes blazing with that manic intensity, using her lightsaber to slash through the power lines running through the metal ceiling, where she could sense a lot of power surging through them. The lines are severed, and the security station's lights suddenly wink out... Force Speed - while deactivating her lightsaber. Force Seeing - already inside the darkened chamber. "Hey! What happened?" - one of the troops inside exclaimed nervously. "Quiet! She could be... AAAAHHH!" - the other voice is cut off, as a crimson flash suddenly flared into existence. "THERE! KILL HER!" - another voice yelled, a few shots following - all deflected, half of them back at their points of origin, accompanied with more death screams. "Wh..." - the Commander began, just as the low-powered emergency lights came on, and the crimson flash became a blur of motion flying through the air. Faintly illuminated by the emergency lighting, the scene became a massacre from that point forward, as the crimson blur leaped, rolled, and slaughtered around the room, and more death screams filled the air, already thick with the stench of charred flesh. Rifles were ripped out of the troops' hands with Force Pull, their skin superheated, literally slowly cooking them alive with Deadly Sight. Those who were killed instantly with a lightsaber slash or a deflected blaster shot were the ones fortunate... The blurred crimson-hued shadow didn't hold still even for an instant, until the last of the screams faded, and the only one left alive was the Commander - one hand severed at the elbow, the fist still gripping his heavy blaster sidearm, as he stumbled in shock from the pain toward the intercom console. A brief fizzling out sound can be heard somewhere behind him. Just before he could reach the console, a slender but iron-hard arm snaked in to grip him in a neck-lock, the other one, palm-upward, holding steady at a point diagonally below the chin, a hinge neck-snap posture... "Tell them the situation has been brought under control, and you may yet live, soldier-boy. Mmm... and be convincing, will you?" - a soft, vicious voice whispered. The commander nodded slightly, groaning from the pain of his severed arm. However, just as he slowly reached for the intercom switch, he felt the pain easing off... slightly. "To allow you to be convincing..." - Deathstrike whispered, focusing through the Force to deaden the nerves in the commander's severed hand. "Uh... right." - he muttered, reaching for the switch. "This is Commander Fonner, the infiltrators have been contained, sir." - he spoke in a voice nearly back to normal, due to the pain suppression Deathstrike was applying. "Acknowledged, Commander. What happened to Darkon's apprentice?" - Rieekan's voice came back. Deathstike applied slightly more pressure to Fonner's neck, along with a Force message, so as not to be overheard on the intercom: "We took her down, General... and the rest are contained!" - Fonner replied to Rieekan. "Good work, commander. You can end the lockdown of the inner sector. We're sending more squads to help out in taking down the rest of them! Rieekan out." Deathstrike released Fonner, taking a step away and smiling sweetly: "Well done, my dear... now obey your general, and lift the lockdown." - while Fonner turned to look at her uneasily: "And you won't kill me?" - he asked. "I promise." - Deathstrike replied in a falsely reassuring voice, while thinking: "Promise I have no intention of keeping... you're pathetic! If you refused, you would have been worthy of a quick and painless death, since you did not betray your cause, as misguided as it is! But now... you are a traitorous coward, and shall die slowly, worm! And besides, I do need to regenerate this..." - referring to the significant blaster graze she took to her side during the battle. Fonner nodded, then walked to the master security console, inputting his command code, and lifting the inner sector lockdown. Almost before he was finished, Deathstrike applied her Drain Life on him. Within a minute, his screams of agony ended, and Fonner was reduced to a withered, grey-skinned corpse, while Deathstrike's wound was regenerated fully. "Coward's death for you." - she remarked contemptuously, stepping over the corpse and proceeding through the heavy blast doors into the inner sector. After taking a moment to gaze around the security station, at the burned, dismembered, and blasted corpses sprawled everwhere, savouring the moment, Deathstrike thought: "This is what I live for... I can't imagine how would I cope when there are no more battles to be fought for the Sith, no more enemies to be killed... and I become useless! I truly hope that day never comes..." - her thoughts briefly drifting to her own very private dread, before she ended her reverie, shaking her head to drive those thoughts away, and contacted the other two team members on the surface via commlink: "NOW! Disable the turboshafts... I want these rats trapped here, like mynocks for a slaughter!" - voice anticipating. ~~ Acknowledging the order, the two Acolytes broke cover, taking the surface detachment by surprise. Only minutes later, they made their way to the turboshaft control cluster, setting charges, and killing all the technicians on-duty there. "Charges set, Lady... one minute to go!" - they reported back. ~~ Meanwhile, however, one of Deathstrike's Acolytes was killed, the pursuing Republic troops managing to corner him and take him down, while the other sent Deathstrike a Force message: "Yes... you're on your own, Acolyte. Try and find a way out before they catch you in a trap, because I am sealing the blast doors to the inner sector to keep them from following me in. I doubt Ackbar and his minions will take long to realize their apparent victory is false! Should you succeed, make your way back to the insertion point." - she responded, before cutting off contact. After fighting off a Republic officer and a trio of troops, killing two of them with their own deflected fire, and luring the rest behind a corner, finishing them off with a Saber-throw, the surviving Acolyte found a schematic terminal of the base, thinking furiously: ~~ One of the techs at a system console suddenly called out to Ackbar: "Sir, we've just lost the turboshafts to the surface!" "WHAT?!" - Rieekan snapped before Ackbar could answer. "It was a trick, General... Deathstrike must have somehow - influenced - commander Fonner to give us a false report." - Ackbar replied gravely. "That's impossible! Fonner was a loyal New Republic officer! He would have NEVER betrayed us for his own survival!" - Rieekan growled angrily, but not convincingly, even to himself. Ackbar shook his head slowly, standing up from his chair: "The recriminations can wait until later... we will have to summon all remaining troops to the Command Center. Now!" "Not possible, sir... the lockdown to the outer sector has been reinstated!" - one of the officers suddenly said. "But how?" - Rieekan asked. "Deathstrike must have obtained the access code from Fonner's mind before he died - or when he used it to lift the lockdown in the first place." - Ackbar responded gravely. Rieekan looked at the Mon Calamari in anger and disbelief, before muttering: "There's a maintenance exit here... it leads to the sewer system! We have to go now, sir." As he, Ackbar and a pair of other high-ranking New Republic officers left the Command Center, Rieekan gave the final order to the remaining troops there: "Cover our retreat, soldiers! As long as you can..." - before they exited the room. "Yes sir!" - the troop sergeant replied crisply. ~~ Minutes later, Deathstrike made her way to the Command Center. After a minute spent fighting and killing the troops there, Deathstrike made a Force check, to try and locate Ackbar and the rest. She was successful, Mon Calamari Force sense being easily distinguishable between the others. "So... you hope to escape me, squid? Unlikely!" - taking off with a Force Speed enhanced run after them. ~~ Just as Ackbar and his officers were about to enter a maintenance tunnel leading to the sewer hatch, the tunnel doors abruptly slid shut, with Deathstrike's mocking voice calling out behind them, over the soft hum of a lightsaber: "Going somewhere? And without even saying farewell... I'm insulted!" The four of them turn around, to see Deathstrike standing in the doorway, smiling insolently at them, her left hand just lowering after making a Force gesture to seal the doors in front of them. One of the officers reached for his blaster, but his movement had only began, before Deathstrike's right hand snapped out in a flash, an assassin knife flashing through the air and burying itself into the officer's throat. The second officer suddenly clutched at her neck, suffocating, as Deathstrike applied Force Grip on her, eyes still on Ackbar and Rieekan. Rieekan stared in horror at the choking officer, then yelled at Deathstrike: "Killing us will change nothing, Sith whore! The New Republic will never surrender here, or anywhere else! You will not prevail!" Deathstrike only smiled, tightening her Force Grip and choking the woman, before answering: "Aww... I'm hurt, General! Such foul words to call a lady... Anyway, you won't live to see it one way or another. Either of you..." - as the smile suddenly vanished, and she approached Rieekan and Ackbar, turning off the lightsaber and clipping it back to the belt. Rieekan roared in fury, trying a one-two combination at Deathstrike's face and stomach. She caught the wrist and twisted hard, breaking it, while dodging sideways to avoid the other strike at her stomach. His scream of pain was cut off abruptly, as Deathstrike suddenly pulled on the arm, drawing Rieekan closer, simultaneously snapping her right knee hard, out and diagonally upward into his solar plexus, perforating the diaphragm and killing him instantly, with an agonized whoosh of forcedly exhaled air, mixed with few drops of blood, being the last sound he made, before crumpling bonelessly to the floor. Ackbar only had time to gurgle something unintelligible, as Deathstrike spun around, catching the Mon Calamari sideways at the throat in a backspin kick, crushing the windpipe. "That didn't hurt so much, now did it?" - she remarked to the choking Ackbar with a smile, while collecting her assassin knife from the neck of the first officer, then turning to walk back out the way she came, leaving Ackbar to choke to death. Half an hour later... As the Mon Calamari security forces finally converged on the garrison to provide belated reinforcements, a massive explosion shook the entire complex - the charges Deathstrike had set at the power plant, before making her way out. Within minutes, the entire structure began sinking into the sea... Deathstrike and one of the Acolytes assigned to infiltrate the surface spaceport - the other one did not survive - watched the spectacle from an inconspicous platform far above, overlooking the garrison. "That should cripple their fleet in the sector!" - the Acolyte exclaimed gleefuly, enjoying the show. Deathstrike smiled, nodding. staring transfixed at the chaos below: "Yes... the way is now open for the Master's fleet to come in and slaughter the rest of them, bringing this sector into the glory of the RTSE!" They watched for another minute, before the Acolyte suddenly asked: "What about Margos? You said he was still alive when you got into the inner sector, Lady. You think he made it out?" "We shall see if he was strong enough to escape... I told him he was on his own after penetrating the inner sector! I'm sure he was furious at that - and that fury should have given him added resolve." - walking away. The Acolyte followed, smirking: ~~ NAR SHADDAA - BLACK SUN OWNED PREYBIRD MANUFACTURING COMPOUND - STAFF QUARTERS After her tenure in the infirmary, where the medics spent almost an hour removing the shrapnels out of her, before dressing the wounds and the burn across her face with bacta patches, Kiara wrote and filed a report about the attack to the central computer, as required by her position as Security Chief, by the Black Sun business regulations in such an event. Finally, she retreated to her quarters for the night. Six hours later... Just having awakened fifteen minutes ago, a door chime sounded at the doors to Kiara's quarters, just after she finished her morning meal. "What?" - Kiara called out, while pulling out her DL-44 and aiming it at the door. "It's me... can I come in?" - Krexon's voice came back. Kiara sighed, half-irritably, half-amusedly, anticipating yet another round of Krexon's many passes at her, attempting to advance their business relationship to a more personal level. "This better be about the attack, Zeltron... c'mon in." - she finally said after a pause. The doors slid open, revealing Krexon standing there. Noticing the heavy blaster aimed at his face, he grinned: "You're not going to shoot me, are you, sweetie?" "Don't tempt me... and don't call me that again." - Kiara growled, abruptly sheathing the blaster. "Still don't trust me, do you?" - Krexon asked, coming in. "Trust gets people killed." - Kiara responded evenly, watching him very closely. Krexon laughed at that, before sitting down at the table. "True... 'specially in the lines of work we're both in. We both have to watch our backs, eh?" "Why don't you cut the crap and tell me what's this about?" - Kiara snapped, suddenly tired of the slip-talk. "Not even going to give me a chance, huh?" - Krexon commented, but continued before Kiara could respond: "Just got a response from the big boss on Coruscant - about the attack. He wants us to teach that fat slug and his cronies a lesson in humility, and the price to pay for harassing Black Sun holdings. His crack team of elite mercs is already on the way here, but I mentioned you, and suggested you'd be an asset to the operation." This caught Kiara's full attention, and she even smiled at Krexon briefly: "Sounds intriguing... and I'm itching to pay those Huttlings back a little!" "From what the guys told me, you've really made a bloodbath last evening... killed, what, over 20 of 'em? Still not enough action for you, huh?" - Krexon smiled back. "I can never have enough action, Zeltron - you know that. And aside from this attack, sitting around guarding your little operation here's not my idea of action. So who's leading the team, and how much will I get paid for my part?" - Kiara asked, turning cold and professional again. "You're not going to believe it if I told you..." - Krexon replied with a devious grin. "Really? Try me." - Kiara retorted, even more intrigued now. "Boba Fett." - Krexon answered, keeping his face straight. Kiara's expression turned derisive, and she actually laughed at that. "Right... and I'm a Matron of the Nightsisters!" "A who?" - Krexon asked, confused. Kiara thought she could kick herself for her slip-of-the-tongue. Closing her eyes briefly, she muttered: "Never mind..." But Krexon wasn't about to let it go... "Who are these Ni..." - he began, but was instantly interrupted by Kiara: "I SAID DROP IT!!!" - she yelled, slamming her fist on the table hard enough to dent its tin surface, with Krexon flinching at the outburst, before forcing herself to take a deep breath, and continuing in her usual cold voice, determined to get the conversation back to the main subject immediately: "Sorry... so, Fett's leading the team? Your boss must really want Gargonn to feel the pain, hmm?" - she asked. Krexon looked at her with interest for a moment, thinking: "Must have really struck a nerve there... I think I'll do some research on those... what'd she call 'em... Nightsisters?" - finally nodding: "That's right. Xizor paid through the nose for Fett's commission, as I understand. 25,000 credits!" Kiara stared at him, before finally saying: "25,000?! Nobody's worth that much! Not even Fett... but I guess I'll find out for myself. I'm in." "You're in? Are you sure? The operation could get really nasty, if Fett needs a whole team with him to handle it!" - Krexon asked. Kiara didn't bother to answer the question, simply getting up, and slinging her Tenloss disruptor over her shoulder, moving to stand by the door. "Are they coming here to pick me up, or do I rendezvous with them along the way?" - she asked, once again cold and professional. "They're aboard a Corellian Gunship, bound for Sleheyron, where Gargonn's main base of operations is. Should be about halfway there by now... You can catch up with them in one of our Preybirds." - Krexon answered. "Thanks... And you didn't tell me how much is my commission?" - Kiara asked. "I told Xizor how you handled yourself in the attack, and he offered 11,000 for you if you accept." - Krexon responded, smiling. "Not bad... plus what you owe me for the attack itself... comes to about 19,000." - Kiara mused, doing calculations in her head. "Whoa... wait a second! 8,000 credits?! I'm already paying you a merc's fee for being my security chief!" - Krexon protested angrily. "That's just for sitting around doing nothing, Zeltron. And that barely covers my expenses. This was combat duty, and I'm charging extra for that. Plus, I spent two thermal detonators, and they're not cheap." - Kiara growled, staring hard at him. "Forget it! I'm not going to..." - Krexon began, turning to walk out of the room, as Kiara reached out to grab him by the left arm, just below the elbow, pulling her vibrodagger by the other hand and placing it under his chin. "Wha... OWWW!" - Krexon ground out in pain, as he discovered that Kiara's grip wouldn't suffer by comparison to a small hydraulic press. "Don't play games with me, Zeltron." - Kiara said, her voice now steely calm. "You... don't want to... threaten a... Black Sun member!" - Krexon ground through clenched teeth, then let out a yelp, as Kiara squeezed even harder. "I don't make threats... consider this a friendly warning of what will happen if I put you on my list of problems to solve. Now, are we agreed on my commission for the attack or not?" - she asked, remaining ice-cold." "Fine... you'll... get... your 8,000." - Krexon ground out. Kiara abruptly released him, sheathing the dagger, before walking out of her quarters, not saying another word, on her way to the landing platform. Krexon rubbed his throbbing hand, where the finger marks were clearly visible against his purple skin, walking out himself and heading back to his office. "Kriffin' schutta, she almost ripped off my arm! What a piece of work... but I suppose she did go well beyond the standard contract last night. Fine..." - shaking his head to himself. DANTOOINE, ONE OF THE OUTLYING SETTLEMENTS Raze entered the dimly-lit Dantooine saloon. He briefly looked over the occupants, mostly landowners and farm-hands, along with a few off-duty Imperials, before he took a seat at the bar. The Duros walked bartender over and spoke. "What'll you have?" he asked. "Blue Milk, and make sure it's cold." Raze responded. "You haven't changed a bit." the Duros laughed slightly as he turned to fetch the drink, "One cold Blue Milk coming up." Whilst the bartender was getting the drink, Raze turned and looked back over the room more thoroughly. He recognized a couple Imperial officers from the nearby base that he had just come from, as well as a few farmers who frequented the bar. Then he noticed a very familiar tan-skinned Twi'lek male walking toward him. "Foon? So you are alive! I thought for sure some Sithy had made you into a lovely decoration." Raze joked, as the Twi'lek drew closer. "Naw, I just bowed-out after that fiasco on Taris." the Twi'lek replied, "I suppose you could say I ‘deserted'." Foon took a seat next to Raze just as the bartender returned with Raze's drink. The Twi'lek ordered a Corellian Ale before turning back toward his human comrade. "What have you been doing in the meantime?" Raze asked curiously. "Oh, just some easy stuff back on Tatooine." Foon responded, "Collecting bounties on a few debtors and petty criminals, you know." Raze nodded, then Foon continued, his tone suddenly turning somber. "Look, I'm sorry about Korsann and Mirai." he mumbled. "What?" Raze asked, cocking his head to one side, "What do you mean?" "Oh... I thought you would know by now. You used to be very close to them." Foon said. "That was a long time ago Foon, or at least it seems like a long time." Raze sighed, "We had a little falling out and I haven't spoken to either of them for almost two years now." "Well..." Foon continued, feeling a little dejected at having to tell Raze about their fate, "They were both killed by a smuggler named Coss. At least I think his name was Coss." Raze was taken aback by Foon's statement. Korsann and Mirai were bounty hunter partners who had been his friends for a long time, but a series of misunderstandings and situations where they didn't see eye-to-eye led to their relationship souring. "I... I didn't think they'd... I mean, Korsann was one of the best free-lancers I ever knew. No mere smuggler could have killed them!" Raze exclaimed, starting to grow angry. "This Coss fellow is supposedly one of the most dangerous and violent smugglers in the Outer-rim, they weren't the first bounty hunters to fall to him." Foon stated. Raze took a drink while trying to keep hold of his emotions. After setting the glass back down, he slammed his fist against the table. "I'm gonna kill that bastard! You know where he was last seen?" Raze inquired. "Somewhere in Hutt Space I think. From what I heard, he crossed-up some Hutt who had him running spice and weapons. Don't know exactly what the issue was, but I think the Hutt put a fair-sized bounty on Coss." "Thanks Foon; I just found my next job." Raze remarked, finishing his drink and tossing a coin to the bartender, "You got any plans?" "Well, no. I came here with my sister to try and get back on the Empire's payroll and do some more challenging jobs, but it looks like that Pellaeon fellow's gonna screw that up with his peace talks." Foon groaned. "I'll split the loot 50/50 with you if you help me kill this Coss bastard." Raze offered. "Make that a three-way split and you have a deal." Foon replied after pondering it for a moment, "My sister needs the work too." "Fine, three-way it is. Do you have a transport?" "Yes, we came in our Y-Wing." "Alright, I meet you guys in the spaceport in two hours, Bay 57, got it?" "We'll be there." With that Raze nodded and stormed out of the bar to collect his possessions from his Dantooine apartment. ~~ BIMMIEL - RTSE/REMNANT BORDER, THE SITE OF RTSE/REMNANT PEACE TALKS After multi-stage talks that lasted on-off for almost three days, the delegations of the RTSE, led by Vice-Admiral Gavro, an envoy assigned to them directly by Lord Darkon, and the Imperial Remnant, led by Grand Admiral Pellaeon, have reached a prefunctory agreement. After shaking hands and going their separate ways, Gavro filed a report on the results, and transmitted it to Korriban on a coded channel, where it will wait until Lord Darkon returns from his foray to Mon Cal sector. The talks went well, with the RTSE and the Imperial Remnant reaching a non-aggression pact - at least for the time being. ~~ BLOOD SANCTUM - LEADING THE CORE INVASION TASK FORCE, SEVEN HOURS LATER "Coming out of hyperspace in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... realspace!" - the helmsman called out of the starboard crew pit on the flagship's wide bridge. The starlines faded back to stars, and the fleed dropped out at Raxus system. Formerly a location of a minor Imperial shipyards, along with a junkyard world, the system now served as the main New Republic staging area in the sector, with two installations and a decent fraction of the NR sector fleet. "Deep scan complete, milord... there is a significant NR presence in the system. I'm reading 8 MC80's and 22 Nebulon-B Frigates. Along with three Type 4 space stations in orbits of the three planets in-system, including Raxus Prime. They haven't reconfigured into a siege formation - looks like they weren't expecting us!" - the sensor officer reported. Lord Darkon smiled grimly from the command chair. "Of course not, Commander... with Ackbar and his lackeys no longer coordinating their efforts, they no longer have an idea of the overall strategic disposition of our forces. And any reports their scouts are transmitting to their Mon Cal headquarters are being wasted, since there is no longer a Headquarters left to receive them. My apprentice had seen to that..." - in a pleased voice, before adding, having activated the fleet-wide channel: "Task Force A, commence the assault! We will divide into three segments, and assault all three positions in-system simultaneously. The Blood Sanctum will proceed to Raxus Prime directly, along with four Karas cruisers and seven Munja frigates. What sort of NR force is at that focal point?" - standing up and walking toward the sensor officer. "Three MC80's and ten Escort Frigates, along with the station itself - no match for us in ship-to-ship firepower, but..." - the officer began, before Darkon finished for him: "But considerably superior in starfighter numbers and starfighter firepower, no doubt... with each of those Nebulons carrying two squadrons, and the MC80's carrying four. And who knows how many more on the station. Good! I was beginning to fear the lack of challenge in this battle..." Admiral Zavron spoke up: "I recommend a standard closure formation when facing superior starfighter/bomber numbers - our Munjas should stay close to the Kurgarins and Karases to provide point-support, while the Gavran fighter squadrons concentrate on intercepting and eliminating the enemy bombers. Our other ships and Nosorog bombers can deal with the larger ships, while the enemy fighters are a secondary priority, not having the firepower to seriously threaten our larger ships." Lord Darkon nodded. "Agreed. And the Blood Sanctum is an easy match, ship-to-ship wise, for the entire force around Raxus Prime. We do not need any Kurgarins in our segment, only a few Karases for close support, and a few Munjas for point-defense. Give the order, Admiral." Zavron nodded back, and relayed the instructions to the fleet. All three segments began their approach to their assigned planets, and were already halfway there, in-formation and fighters deployed, before the NR forces woke up to the fact that they have company... ~~ "New contacts on the scope! 8 Sith Destroyers, and three dozen support ships... and the Sanctum itself! The Sith are here!" - a panicked voice of the sensor officer sounded out on one of the NR stations in the system. Similar warnings were soon issued on the other two stations... "Battle Alert! All fighter squadrons, scramble and launch! All ships, form a defense line and prepare to engage the enemy!" - the New Republic rear-admiral in command of the system's NR forces barked out on his fleet-wide channel. Even as the Republc forces began to respond to the incursion, he knew the Sith had the initiative... somehow, they managed to approach undetected, with no warning at all from the Headquarters, which was supposed to provide them with up-to-minute movements on the Sith fleet, due to scout reports. Yet no transmissions came at all from Mon Calamari, for the past few hours... ~~ Within an hour, the battle was over, ending in an almost complete rout of New Republic forces, with only one MC80 managing to escape, under orders to return to Mon Calamari and report on what happened here. Two stations were captured, while the last was destroyed, its NR defenders deciding to activate self-destruct before allowing a Sith takeover. The RTSE had lost two Kurgarins, along with four Karases and six Munjas, mostly to tenacious enemy B-Wing and Y-Wing bomber squadrons and their heavy ordnance, only one Karas actually falling to an MC80. The Blood Sanctum had taken moderate damage, but was still very much in the game, destroying most of the enemy ships around Raxus Prime in turn, and capturing the station in orbit. "That appears to be the last of them, my Lord." - Zavron commented, approaching to stand beside Lord Darkon at the forward bridge viewport, to stare at the burning wreckages of NR ships floating in space on the magnified visual pickup, as well as a mass of debris, the greyish landscape of Raxus Prime in the background. "For now... but this was only the first phase. The real battle awaits us at Mon Calamari. What's the status of the other two task forces?" - Lord Darkon asked, still staring directly out the viewport. "Just received a report... Task Force B had taken Handooine, moderate losses, and Task Force C is still engaged with NR forces at Drongar. With those two systems in our hands, including Raxus, we'll have Mon Calamari in a pincer grip!" - Zavron answered. "The enemy may yet try to surprise us with a counterattack... have most of our scouts move to the outskirts of the Mon Cal system and monitor all activity there. Have all ships perform field-repairs, here, as well as the other two task forces. Maintain fighter patrols at the edges of the system. I want instant warning if any enemy ships revert from hyperspace anywhere in the vicinity! We will progress to Mon Cal from multiple vectors as soon as Task Force C secures Drongar and has time to conduct their repairs." - Lord Darkon issued the orders, while thinking, somewhat concerned: ~~ MON CALAMARI - CAPITAL CITY, THE FORMER GARRISON LOCATION - INFILTRATION AFTERMATH The capital city was in a state of marginally controlled chaos... The Mon Cal planetary security forces have declared a state of emergency, implementing martial law, and doing a thorough check on every recently arrived ship on the records, as well as being increasingly suspicious of the planet's non-Mon Cal population. Scattered reports have already began to arrive, regarding the New Republic defeat at Raxus, and some of it has leaked to the civilian population, adding to the atmosphere of tension and uncertainty. With their hidden staging area found and penetrated, and their infiltrator ship seized and impounded only hours after the garrison's destruction, before they could reach it, Deathstrike and the Acolyte are currently on the move, disguised, with the fate of the last Acolyte, Margos, still unknown. Keeping to the slummier parts of the city, and trying to avoid any security patrols without looking obvious about it, the two are searching for a place to lye low... "How did those squids find our ship so quickly?! We had a false ID signature, and the ship was as inconspicous as the RTSE Intelligence could find for us - a simple, dilapidated Muurian transport!" - the acolyte muttered under his breath, glancing furtively around under his hood, keeping his voice just above a whisper. "Well, when your city is as compromised as theirs is right now, you tend to increase your vigilance level, don't you?" - Deathstrike retorted, her own voice just as low, before adding: "Can you sense it? The amount of hidden fear among the civilians, and even their security forces, pervading the city? The uncertainty... the doubt? How different from the mindset of those under RTSE rule, whose exposure to our teachings has made them far more... focused and determined under pressure! If this world was under RTSE rule, there would be no chaos, no fear... just a determination to find the cause, and the solution to the crisis as quickly as possible..." - her voice turning reflective. "They are weak... they give in to fear so easily!" - the acolyte retorted contemptuously. Turning a street corner, the two came across a functioning public news terminal, the current events program broadcasting in Basic: // BREAKING NEWS // // Little is known at this point, but there is every indication that the destruction of the New Republic garrison was the work of Sith agents. While the authorities remain close-mouthed, our reporters have uncovered a rumour about a recovered security footage from the garrison, indicating the Sith were indeed present inside at the time of its destruction. This could indicate a more extensive Sith attempt to destabilize our society, or just a part of a coordinated effort on their part. As we attempt to obtain more concrete information from the authorities, stay tuned for more details... // "You won't have to wait for long..." - Deathstrike thought, she and her accomplice about to move on, before a guttural Mon Cal voice intoned from the far end of the alley: "All civilians, cease and desist your activities, and prepare for identity verification!" Stretching out with the Force, Deathstrike can sense a squad of Mon Cal security, beginning their sweep - just as another squad suddenly entered the alley behind them, cutting off the other exit, to make sure no civilians tried to slip out of the net. The two moved forward, keeping their pace casual and inconspicuous, putting their hoods more closely over their heads, while the acolyte sends a Force message to Deathstrike: "No... not here in the open! The orbital satellites would pick up the commotion, and the weapons fire signatures. They will likely conduct their sweep inside all the buildings in the alley as well... where there will be fewer bystanders, and no chance of orbital detection. Let's find a suitable one..." - Deathstrike rejected the idea. Moving forward, the two entered one of the community houses. Inside, a number of apartment doors can be seen, arranged in three open-sided circular levels. A few people of several different species are wandering the lobby, but most seem to be inside the apartments at the moment. Making a quick Force check, to determine which apartment has the fewest people in it, Deathstrike immediately located the suitable one. They take the elevator to the last level. Suddenly, one of the residents approached them, a Twi'Lek with the look of a janitor: "Hey... haven't seen you two around here before!" - in a friendly voice. Knowing that her tatoos would likely draw more attention than necessary, Deathstrike kept her hood tightly around her head, letting the acolyte handle the Twi'Lek: "Oh, just visiting a friend..." - the acolyte answered, keeping his voice casual. "Anyone I know? I know all the tenants around here..." - the janitor asked, voice slightly suspicious, his attention drawn to the strange, reddish-coloured hue of the acolyte's Sith eyes. Just as the acolyte was about to answer, the main doors to the building opened, and the security squad entered, beginning their sweep, starting with the lowest level, and the few people in the lobby outside. "Blast... we're out of time!" - Deathstrike thought, before stepping close to the Twi'Lek and whispering: "Do you have a master apartment keycard?" "Well, yes... but why..." - the Twi'Lek began, before taking a closer look at her face. "Oh, my..." - he started to exclaim, before the acolyte grabbed him by the throat, silencing the exclamation before it could draw attention of the security squad below. "If you want to live past today, you'll stay quiet!" - he whispered viciously, as Deathstrike's hand found the key in one of the Twi'Lek's pockets. "Is this it?" - she asked the half-choked janitor, who simply nodded, then pointed at his throat. "Very well. But if you call out, you're dead. Along with everyone else in this building!" - she hissed, motioning for the acolyte to release the janitor, who began gasping for breath. "Are you... the Sith?" - he asked incredulously, keeping his voice to a whisper. Deathstrike simply nodded, already moving on to the doors of her chosen apartment, as the acolyte followed, holding the janitor tightly. Using the keycard, the doors opened, and the three of them stepped in, Deathstrike immediately closing the doors behind. They walked into the apartment's living room, to find a small human family there, a husband and a wife with one little boy, along with a Devaronian, perhaps a guest. "What in blazes..." - the man began, standing up from the table, while the woman grabbed the boy and pulled him closer. The Devaronian simply turned to stare in surprise at the new arrivals. As the acolyte was about to shove the man back into the chair, Deathstrike stopped him: "No. Get back to the entrance and let me know when the squad is close! I'll deal with this." The acolyte nodded and headed back, while Deathstrike turned to the man: "Your family won't be harmed if you do as I say! Please sit down." - speaking in an urgent voice, while lowering her hood. All three gasped at the sight of her tatoos and reddish eyes, before the man asked angrily: "Who ARE you people?!" "They're Sith!" - the Twi'lek janitor replied in a terrified voice before Deathstrike could answer. "Silence! I'm doing the talking here." - Deathstrike snapped at the janitor, giving him a quick shove to the chest, and dropping him to the couch nearby. "In the name of... please... please don't hurt us!" - the woman screamed in absolute terror, as the little boy began to cry. "This is a waste of time, Lady... the squad'll be here in a few minutes! We should just kill them all!" - the Acolyte's voice came from the foyer outside the room. "When I want your opinion I shall ask for it! Now attend to your task!" - Deathstrike retorted, before turning back to the people in the room, all of whom are now sitting close to one another, the Devaronian reaching for something in his pocket - a holdout blaster. Before the weapon was even fully out and aimed, Deathstrike snap-kicked it out of the alien's hand, breaking one of the fingers in the process, before grabbing the Devaronian's head by the horns, and slamming it hard, face-down into the table's surface, driving his nasal bone into the brain, killing him. She dropped to a crouch, and a ready-stance, hand on the lightsaber. "Please! He wasn't with them! He was a criminal here to extort money from them!" - the janitor screamed, putting his hands over his head, as the man continued: "We won't give you any trouble... and I'm glad that bastard won't be harassing my family anymore! What do you want with us?!" - he asked, before his wife screamed: "They're Sith... they'll kill us all!" - quickly turning the boy's head so he cannot see the lifeless corpse, which had now slid from the chair to the floor beside the table. Deathstrike quickly spoke up in a reassuring voice: "I promise, I'm not going to kill you unless you force me to. I'm not in a habit of killing innocents without a very good reason." In a few words, she explained the situation and the reason for their intrusion into the apartment, and what would happen in the next few minutes, as the Acolyte signaled her that the squad is now on their level, beginning the sweep of the apartments there... "Is it necessary to expose my wife and son to that?!" - the man glared at her angrily. Deathstrike shook her head almost before he was finished with the question: "Of course not... me and my accomplice shall dispose of them, and you don't even have to be present! Is there another room in this place?" "The bathroom and the bedroom - why?" - he asked. "Hide in one of them and don't come out until it's over. They're almost here..." - Deathstrike answered, sensing the squad clearly now. "You want to turn my home into a slaughterhouse! I won't allo..." - the man snapped, standing up and reaching out to Deathstrike, before she trapped his arm in a lock and spun him face-down to the table, pinning him motionless and speaking in an angry voice: "I can always accede to my accomplice's suggestion and just kill you all! I DON'T want to do that, but I will if you force me to! What will it be?" - releasing him and taking a step away. Nodding wordlessly, he quickly motioned for the Twi'Lek janitor to follow, while ushering the wife and son into the bedroom. As the doors closed behind them, Deathstrike could sense the squad approaching the apartment doors. The acolyte came back into the living room, taking position at one corner of the doorway, while she moved to the far side of the room, intending to provide a surprise attack when the battle is underway. Both of them shucked out of their disguises, left only with their standard apparels, not wanting the baggy commoner outfits to distract them during battle. There was a chime at the door. Using the Force, Deathstrike depressed the switch next to the doors, opening them. The four-man Mon Calamari security team was out there, three of them moving in, while the last one remained outside. As soon as the doors closed behind them, the acolyte charged out of the living room, sweeping his lightsaber across the lead guard, killing him, while taking off the barrel of the rifle of the second one, and kicking him to the floor, before stabbing him. Just as the last one was about to fire, there was a crimson flash behind him, as Deathstrike's saber took his head off. The entire action lasted less than five seconds, and was reasonably quiet, so the last guard outside didn't hear anything. Opening the doors again, Deathstrike reached out and grabbed him, pulling him inside and dragging him to the floor, before stabbing one of her assassin knives into the Mon Calamari's neck, as the doors once again closed. "One down - one to go!" - she grinned wickedly at the acolyte, referring to the second squad, which would no doubt notice the absence of the first one. "I can lure them here... I can do a good imitation of how those squids talk!" - the Acolyte suggested, grinning back, and taking the commlink from one of the corpses. "Go ahead... I'll drag the corpses out of immediate sight." - Deathstrike nodded. As the Acolyte began speaking into the commlink, in an excellent imitation of the typical guttural Mon Cal tone, making up a convincing pretext as to why they would need the second squad to come immediately, Deathstrike noticed the bedroom doors opening. "Stay there... it's not finished yet!" - she called toward the doors. In another ten minutes, the second squad arrived, and met with the same fate as the first one, neither of the squads ever suspecting enough to report to anyone. WIth eight Mon Cal corpses piled in the center of the living room, along with the dead Devaronian, Deathstrike turned to the acolyte: "Nice work luring them here, dear... I didn't know you were such a good actor!" "I have many talents..." - the acolyte grinned, before asking: "What about them?" - pointing at the bedroom doors. Deathstrike's face turned serious, as she growled: "I said I'm not going to kill them, and I stand by that. And neither shall you! Understood? We are True Sith warriors, not simple murderers!" - staring hard at him. "Heh... I didn't realize you were such a soft touch... Lady!" - the acolyte scowled, turning to walk back to the foyer. "Repeat that." - Deathstrike hissed, grabbing his arm and stopping him. Instead of replying, the acolyte suddenly snapped his left leg backwards and high up in a back-hammer kick, aiming for Deathstrike's nose. She twisted to one side, taking the blow to her cheekbone, drawing some blood, with a hiss of delight at the pain. The acolyte spun around, adopting a half-crouch and snapping the hinge of his right palm toward Deathstrike's solar plexus. Traversing to the left foot and deflecting the blow with her left palm, Deathstrike swept her right leg outward in a spin-kick at his jaw. The kick connected, and the acolyte dropped to the floor, briefly dazed, but still in the fight. Still on the floor, he swept out his own right leg, hoping to catch Deathstrike behind the legs and take her to the floor too. She anticipated the move, leaping up and evading the swipe, as the acolyte leapt back to his feet. Deathstrike feinted to the left, before snapping out both her hands in a direct one-two combination aimed at the acolyte's chin point and solar plexus. Thrown off by the feint, the acolyte is caught off-guard, managing to block the strike to his solar plexus, but taking the one to his chin. As he staggered backwards, Deathstrike followed through with a snap-kick aimed at his temple, which he ducked, before spinning around in a backspin-kick at the side of Deathstrike's neck. Barely had his spinning motion began, however, before Deathstrike was already rolling under his outstretched leg, coming up to trap it with both her hands, and planting a powerful knee-strike at his ribs, followed by a hinge-palm chop to the side of his neck. Half-unconscious, one of his ribs cracked, the acolyte dropped to the floor again, this time out of the fight for good. "Repeat that." - Deathstrike intoned again, with a slight eager smile, tasting the blood trickling down her cheek. "My mistake, Lady! Your touch is anything but soft..." - the acolyte grinned, rubbing his ribs, slowly getting up to sit at one of the chairs, still dazed from the strike to the neck, and applying Force Heal. "Actually, it WAS soft, my dear... if it were harder, you wouldn't be in any condition to speak right now! Mmm... but I liked this. You know a few things! If you had more training, I wouldn't have had to hold back this much... Anyway, just be grateful you didn't try this on Lord Darkon himself!" - Deathstrike hissed, smiling back, before applying just a little Drain Life on him to heal up the cut on her face. Then she turned to the bedroom doors, calling out: "It's finished! You can come out now." As the man and the Twi'Lek janitor came out, they were struck dumb by the sight of nine corpses in the living room. "So... what happens now?" - they ask, staring at the two Sith in fear. "Now you help us take this garbage out of this room to the bathroom!" - the acolyte answered, recovered, before Deathstrike added: "And we shall stay here as your guests for the next several hours, until the situation on this planet is safe for us to depart." - in a tone that will not accept no for an answer. "But what will happen when the authorities come here, and begin to ask questions about what happened here?!" - the man asked, before Deathstrike interrupted him, reassuringly: "Don't worry... by the time we depart, this planet will no longer be under New Republic control, and there will be NO questions asked about what happened here!" "You mean... this attack on the New Republic garrison really was a prelude to invasion? And you were the one who..." - the man asked incredulously, trailing off. "...who destroyed it? Yes." - Deathstrike finished for him, before adding: "But they were our enemies. You're not. And I wouldn't have even involved you in what happened here unless I had no choice! You and your family have nothing to fear from me, or the rest of the Sith. I promise." - her reddish-hued emerald eyes locking onto his. Holding Deathstrike's gaze for a pair of seconds, the man nodded: "I appreciate that, miss. You definitely don't match the New Republic propaganda about the Sith we've heard so much about!" - the Twi'Lek janitor nodding in agreement. Deathstrike laughed at that: "Those fools are mistaken about a great many things... their perception of us being only one of them!" "Even if I admit that we are not the "Sith" in the sense they expect... the likes of Palpatine and his minions, who were pathetic, and as far from Lord Darkon's True Sith as it can be imagined!" - she thought. With that, they began to move the corpses out of the living room. ~~ MYRKR - ONE OF THE RTSE FORWARD STAGING AREAS ON THE MAIN FRONT WITH THE NEW REPUBLIC The RTSE Zatornik, Fleet Admiral Rajko's flagship, is floating in space, a central point to BG-24, just one of the dozen RTSE battlegroups under Rajko's overall command, assigned to protect the main RTSE border with the New Republic from an expected retaliatory strike, once their high command finally received the news about Mon Calamari. A chime sounded at the door to Rajko's ready room. "Latest report had just arrived from the Mon Calamari theatre of operations." - a lieutenant approached Rajko, offering him a datapad. Vladimir Rajko, an early middle-aged man with sharp features and an uncompromising stare, took the datapad. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Dismissed." As the man snapped off a salute and left, Rajko started to read the datapad, thinking: With that, he opened a channel to the bridge: "Communications, send a coded message to our advance scouts, to try and move deeper into New Republic space, and try to intercept any top-level fleet transmissions. I want to be aware when they learn of their defeat at Mon Calamari, so we can be prepared when they decide to strike." "Yes, sir." - came the reply. ~~ SOMEWHERE IN HAPAN SPACE - THE NEW JEDI COUNCIL The Jedi Masters are debating the failed mission of Corran Horn and Tahiri Veila to assassinate Lord Darkon... "Our friends haven't been able to kill that monster! And now, we have lost two more of our number to the Sith." - Markre Medjev, a Devaronian, exclaimed in dismay. "It's their own fault... we have expressed our disapproval of Horn's plan, but he chose to ignore our wisdom. The time was not yet right to take this struggle back to the Sith." - Kyp Durron retorted. "And how long do you suggest we should wait?! Until the Sith spread like a plague across the rest of the galaxy, and the New Republic is gone?" - Medjev snapped angrily, before Katarn interceded: "This bickering will get us nowhere. Yes, this setback..." - as another Master, Saba Sebatyne, a female Barabel, interrupted: "A setback?! Two of our comrades have died at the hands of the Sith! We must move decisively to repay them for that!" - she exclaimed passionately, before Katarn retorted: "Be mindful of your feelings, Master Sebatyne. Impulsiveness and anger are only going to obscure the issue at hand. And Kyp's right - Corran made his choice, and Tahiri went along with her master. We gave him our opinion, and advised him against taking his mission, but he was adamant. However, one positive thing did come out of this... setback." "Such as?" - Medjev asked, in a slightly challenging tone. "We now know Darkon's approximate power in the Force, and battle skill. You must have sensed the disturbance from the duel, as I have. He is powerful, but not nearly as much as the Sith would like us to believe. The next time we launch a mission to be rid of him, we will take that into account." - Katarn said. "That knowledge came at a high price..." - Medjev muttered under his breath, before Kyp added: "In any case, the issue is moot for now... Darkon expects us to make an appearance to aid the Republic in their battle. And we will - just not in the way he expects us to." - looking at Katarn, who nodded. "The Sith are superior in brute force, and their numbers of Force users... but we have an advantage in our understanding of the Force. We will begin placing our most promising Battle Meditation Adepts aboard select New Republic battlegroups - to influence the battles to be fought on a large scale. Starting with Admiral Bel Iblis's task force, which I expect will be the one assigned to counterattack the RTSE when news of Mon Calamari reach Coruscant." "Is that why the Valiant Forge is on the way to Coruscant right now?" - Sebatyne asked, referring to the modified Hapan Battle Dragon, carrying hundreds of Jedi Adepts and elite Hapan Select Commandos to assist in the war effort. "Yes. Our Hapan allies have finally agreed to commit more fully to this struggle, and offer the services of their elite military elements. Our Adepts will be only a small part of our intended assistance to the New Republic." - Katarn nodded. The discussion moved on to the progress of training new apprentices, and numerous other matters, before the Masters finally ended their session. ~~ THE "J'SAI" - KIARA'S PREYBIRD FIGHTER, ON DOCKING APPROACH TO CORELLIAN GUNSHIP "DOMINANCE" In orbit of Sleheyron... "This is Contact 221, requesting permission to dock." - Kiara announced into the channel, using the code-name she was instructed to use by a coded transmission directly from Xizor's palace on Coruscant after she had already departed Nar Shaddaa. For a long moment, there was no response, as Kiara's fighter continued its approach to the Gunship. She waited, hands gripping the pilot yoke tightly, ready for anything. Then, a deep voice responded coldly: "Granted, 221. Beacon'll guide you in. Meet the team in Chamber 7." "Got it." - Kiara confirmed, keying the commlink off, thinking: "That could've been Fett himself..." Two minutes later, she hopped out of the J'Sai's cockpit, finding herself in a cramped hangar bay of the Dominance. Only one other ship was there, Boba Fett's Slave 2. Gathering her weapons and equipment, she noticed a pair of maintenance personnel approaching. One of them, a female Zabrak, began: "You're Krexon's merc, right? They're waiting for you in..." - as Kiara interrupted. "I know. Take care of my ship, okay?" - already moving off toward the hangar exit. Minutes later, following the ship's layout map, she found Chamber 7 and walked in... to find a group of six people in the room: A slim, agile looking Rodian with dark eyes, dressed in some kind of stealth armour, which seemed to partially bend any light falling onto it, and carrying a pair of holdout blasters at his belt... "Stealth combat and infiltrator/saboteur..." - Kiara decided. ...a burly Chistori with a pair of massive vibroswords on his back, and a repeater blaster rifle, "Heavy assault, no doubts there..." - is Kiara's determination. ...a Cathar female with eyes blacker than Kiara's, dressed in a simple black jumpsuit, and seemingly unarmed - except Kiara noticed a slight cybernetic transfer port behind one of her ears... "A neural interface dataport... she's some kind of elite hacker, I guess." - Kiara thought. ...a male Zabrak with his face painted entirely black, dressed in a very light armour, revealing a strongly muscled body, only armed with a single heavy blaster fastened to his ankle, and a pair of durasteel spiked knuckles on each of his fists, "Hand-to-hand specialist..." - Kiara measured him out. ...a female Devaronian in medium armour, a blaster carbine on her back, and a variety of different grenades and satchel charges on her belt, or in different pockets on her armour, "Demolitions expert... can't say I've ever met a Devaronian woman before..." - Kiara thought. ... and a hard-faced middle-aged human, in Mandalorian armour with the helmet removed, with eyes as cold and dead as those of a most hardened killer, and what seemed to be a permanent scowl on his face, armed with a pair of exotic Westar blaster pistols on his belt, a pair of thermal detonators, a vibroblade, and a rocket launch pack on the back of the armour. Despite the massive weight of the armour, he moved deceptively quickly and easily, as if he was born in it, as he approached Kiara, and gave her an evaluative once-over, before speaking in a cold, hard, but measuring tone: "Took you long enough, girl." Kiara held the cold gaze for a second, keeping her expression neutral, the man's face reflected in her sunglasses, while thinking: "Fett... now there's someone I wouldn't want to cross..." - before responding: "Had to take the scenic route." - voice as measuring as Fett's, as she realized this would be a test, her right hand edging a centimeter closer to the DL-44 at her belt, one of the other mercenaries chuckling in the background. One corner of Fett's mouth twitched briefly into something resembling a half-smile, before his left hand suddenly flashed in a lightning-fast lunge for one of the Westars at his belt. Kiara's right hand followed suit a fraction of a second later, as she simultaneously leapt aside, ducking down. However, by the time her weapon was out and trained on Fett, he was no longer there... just as she was suddenly swept off her feet by a low-sweep kick of Fett's, bringing her down on her stomach the deck. She rolled over almost before she finished landing, but by the time her DL-44 was tracking back on him, he was already staring back at her over the barrels of both of his Westars. "Not bad, girl." - he intoned in a voice slightly less cold than before, as he suddenly holstered both of the pistols, as fast as he had drawn them, before offering a hand to Kiara. Kiara only hissed softly, before holstering her DL-44 and accepting Fett's hand, letting him pull her back up. "So... did I pass?" - she asked, unable to hide the touch of exasperation in her voice. Fett only gave her another of those almost half-smiles, walking back to the table and motioning for her to join the meeting. Rolling her eyes under her sunglasses, she complied, sitting down next to the Chistori, while thinking: "Maybe those 25,000 creds aren't an overkill for him..." - before the Chistori leaned to whisper in her ear: "You're good... the first one he actually said that to!" - just as Fett began the briefing. Practically and to the point, he outlined the mission, which was a commando assault on Gargonn the Hutt's mobile headquarters on Sleheyron's surface... a massive, heavily armoured seafaring ship, equipped with a myriad different automated defense systems, a full garrison of thugs and mercenaries, and battle droids. The primary objective was to assassinate Gargonn himself, while the secondary one was the destruction of the ship itself, and the many different endeavours being performed aboard; slave trade, smuggling, illegal weapons manufacture, and narcotics production - on a scale to rival a good deal of Black Sun's operations in the entire sector. Kiara listened intently, thinking: In another few minutes, Fett finished the briefing, and the group headed toward a customized sensor-stealthed Escort Shuttle, which had just docked with the Dominance, which would bring them to the surface undetected, since Sleheyron was equipped with a planetary shield grid, and advanced sensor arrays. On the way to the shuttle, the mercenaries spoke little, but the Cathar woman approached Kiara: "You are a Nightsister, correct?" - she asked in a strangely monotone voice. Kiara almost stopped short, but simply kept her gaze forward, as she growled: "What makes you think that, Cathar?" The other woman was silent for a few seconds, before whispering, eyes blazing with crazed fire: "I... know things. Many... things. Waaah! Beware, slayer... the cloak of destiny is no longer transparent." Kiara looked sideways at the Cathar, before whispering back: "What in blazes does that mean?!" The other woman looks at her with a gaze that sent shivers down Kiara's spine. "Shadows are closing... time is short! Waaah! The cloak shall become... opaque. Beware..." - before walking away, toward the front of the group. Kiara shook her head. "This schutta's lost it... guess that dataport has driven her insane. But how did she guess I'm a Nightsister?!" - frowning slightly. Five minutes later, the modified Escort Shuttle detached from the Dominance, and began its approach to Sleheyron. ~~ ENTERING THE Y'TOUB SYSTEM - FOURTEEN HOURS LATER "Raze, do you read?" - Alli, Foon's sister, hailed Raze's ship, a customized PES gunboat. "Yes?" - came back from Raze. "You think we can sneak into Nar Shaddaa without transmitting our ID codes? Foon thinks it would be smart to keep as low profile as possible for now, so any spies of Coss here wouldn't be alerted." - Alli responded. "Agreed... if that smuggler is that effective against bounty hunters sent after him, he must have ears all around this place. We should go to Refugee Sector, no-one pays too much attention to who flies in or out of there." - Raze suggested. "Good idea, we can lose ourselves there easily, and get some low-key lodging until we get in touch with Gargonn, and get the details of the bounty on Coss. Not to mention, I could definitely use some rest after being stuck in hyperspace for the past day!" - Foon's voice came back this time. Raze chuckled at this. "Tell me about it... okay, follow me in." A dozen minutes later, the two craft, a PES and a modified Y-Wing, are weaving through the dense Nar Shaddaa artificial canyons and conduits, on their way to the Refugee Sector. Soon after, they manage to find an inconspicous landing platform there. After negotiating a landing fee with the platform's Toydarian manager, the trio made their way to one of the many motels in the area. Just short of the entrance, a group of six thugs intercepted them, wielding blaster pistols and vibroblades. "Well, well... what do we have here? Three marks ripe for the picking!" - the leader, a Weequay, intoned. "Good, some sport before sleepy time..." - Raze thought, as he gave his two companions a slight hand-signal to prepare. "Okay, let's keep this nice and simple, huh? Hand over your creds and valuables! And keep those weapons pointed down..." - the Weequay added, the rest of his gang keeping their weapons trained on the three mercenaries. "No problem." - Raze answered reassuringly, keeping his hands well clear of his weapons, Alli and Foon doing the same, as three of the gang approached to disarm them. Suddenly, just as the thug approaching Raze, a burly human male, stepped close, Raze grabbed him by the collar and pulled close with one hand, simultaneously drawing his slug pistol from his belt and shooting the thug in the stomach with the other. The slug blew through, creating an exit wound on the back, and killing the thug just as Foon pushed his thug, a Devaronian, hard back, and into the two other gangers, bowling them over, before throwing himself to the ground, unslinging his repeater blaster in the same movement, before sweeping a number of shots across the three fallen thugs. As a blaster shot from the Weequay slammed into the back of the dead Raze thug, whom is still being held as a shield by Raze, Alli's knee snapped up hard into the groin of the last thug, a smaller human, doubling him over, before Alli's holdout vibroblade found its way into the back of his neck. Suddenly crouching to one side behind his shield, Raze took the Weequay by surprise, and put a slug through his head before the other could shift the aim of his blaster to track him. For a long moment, the three looked around at the scene, and the six corpses lying around the entrance to the motel. "Never ceases to amaze me how stupid these muggers can be..." - Foon muttered contemptuously under his breath, Alli throwing a wicked grin. "Heh, too true... I can see this place hasn't changed much!" - Raze smiled, stepping over the bodies and leading the way into the motel. Aside from a number of refugees and some commoners, the foyer of the motel was empty. After getting rooms from the receptionist, the trio could finally put the long journey to Hutt space behind, and enjoy a good night's rest. RTSE CORE INVASION MON CAL TASK FORCE - JUST ARRIVED IN MON CAL SYSTEM Fourteen hours have passed since the successful invasion of Raxus system and the two other beach heads the RTSE would use to launch an assault on Mon Cal itself. While the Drongar task force had taken heavy losses, and was in fact close to being defeated, the sudden withdrawal of New Republic defenders from Drongar to Mon Calamari, doubtlessly to bolster the defences there, has proven to be a tactical error on the New Republic's part, awarding the last of the three staging points to the RTSE. The lack of high-level command structure, due to the loss of Admiral Ackbar and his command staff has rendered the NR forces even more off-balance and indecisive, the multitude of subordinate captains and commanders unable to reach an accord, thus incapable of launching a concerted counterattack to the RTSE positions, instead opting to dig in, and await invasion. And now, their lack of proactivity and initiative is about to have its consequences. On the bridge of the Blood Sanctum... "Three-pronged incursion complete, my Lord. We have decanted precisely where anticipated, on a vector nearest to Mon Cal 4. The other two forces are in realspace as well, converging along the flanking vectors." - Admiral Zavron reported in a precise voice. Lord Darkon is silent for a moment, gazing out of the front bridge viewport, before speaking: "Opposition status?" "Preliminary scans coming in, my Lord... a sizable defence fleet assembled around Mon Cal 4, coordinated by a pair of orbital Golan 3 platforms. Eleven MC80's, twenty-six Nebulon-B frigates, and a score of smaller ships, apparently Mon Calamari local defence assets. Long range scans are also detecting numerous deployed fighter squadrons throughout the system - some are already converging on our position, and our other two forces, Lord!" - Zavron reported. "Well, it seems we will not be catching them off-guard here like we did at Raxus... this is about to evolve into a real battle. Good." - Darkon intoned glacially, but unmistakenly pleased, before opening a fleet-wide channel: "All ships, reconfigure into Advance Bastion Formation, and begin converging on their defense line. All fighters, launch and begin a CSP around the larger ships, assisting our Munjas in point-defence. Focus on any attacking bomber squadrons first! As was evidenced before, the New Republic bombers can be a great deal of trouble for our capital ships. Fighters are secondary targets." The three Sith task forces began their approach, fending off New Republic fighter and bomber squadrons, while the New Republic ships were beginning to adopt a defense posture around Mon Cal 4... ~~ Meanwhile, on Mon Calamari... As suspicion had turned to certainty, with the news channels transmitting the long-range footage by the New Republic scanners, of the advancing Sith fleet, most of the population of the planet has adopted a state of near-hysteria, the Mon Calamari themselves being the first to panic, their memory of Imperial subjugation still relatively fresh in their minds, and being convinced that the RTSE rule will be far worse than the Galactic Empire ever was. Naturally, the specifics of the orbital contest were prohibited from being displayed, leaving what was happening in space open to everyone's imagination. More so, their fear had compelled the Mon Calamari to adopt an even more antagonistic attitude to the planet's alien populace, exacerbated by their frustrating inability to track down the Sith infiltrators who had destroyed the New Republic garrison. The martial law has been tightened, with all offworlders, Humans in particular, subjected to constant surveillance, identity tests, harassment, and unwanted scrutiny. Rumours of planned segregation of all non-Mon Cals from the indigenous population was only adding fuel to the simmering fires of resentment and civil unrest already beginning to burn. Standing at one of the windows of the apartment she co-opted as a place of refuge for the time being, and where she and her Acolyte teammate had been lying low for the past day, Deathstrike looked out at the deserted street below, with the martial law in full effect, security droids patrolling it, with instructions to hold and detain anyone leaving their homes. The street was littered with debris, evidence of a small riot that took place in that part of the city during the past day - a riot she was observing at the time. At the same time, her Force sensitivity could easily pick up on the mass of fear and confusion pervading the city, and the simmering anger of the mistreated non Mon Cal population, as well. Crossing her arms, she smiled to herself, a thin, wolfish smile, carrying just a barest trace of the massive contempt she was feeling toward the Mon Calamari: "We may not even need to invade the surface in force... nature's course is taking its toll! And those disgusting sub-human squids are only making themselves seem more and more incompetent and worthy of contempt, as they let out their fear and frustration by terrorizing the offworlder population. The citizenry itself shall rise up against their pathetic excuse for authority before too long! And when the RTSE brings back stability and security to this world, we shall be hailed as heroes... Now I understand what the Master meant, when he told me of the likely psychological sideeffects of my mission here. I have to admit, I didn't think the effect would be this... pronounced! But I suppose I should have... since the Mon Cals are hardly the most mentally resilient species in the galaxy! So unlike Twi'Leks, Devaronians, Zabrak, or many others... the Mon Calamari are weak, and only fit to be the servant caste in the glorious RTSE. And I'm certain that is the role the Master intends for them..." - her line of thoughts is suddenly cut off, as she could hear the doors to the apartment opening and closing. "This is unbelievable!" - the wife's voice came from the foyer. "What? What happened?!" - the husband intoned from another room, coming out. "They're starting to lock up anyone walking outside! I just saw our neighbor being taken by those security droids and carted away! I just barely got back here in time for them not to see me out there..." - the wife exclaimed fearfully. "This is getting insane! As if their molesting innocent people will make this situation better! Don't worry, we're safe here." - the husband retorted disgustedly, hugging her. Deathstrike nodded to herself, not the least bit surprised by this development, as the Acolyte came in. "The Mon Cals are cracking under the pressure, Lady." - he said, grinning viciously, before adding: "If this keeps up, they will undermine themselves to the point where their own populace will turn on them before the Master comes." "Just what I was thinking about..." - Deathstrike replied, walking away from the window and into the living room, where the entire family was now seated in front of the news screen, showing the first signs of riots can be seen in multiple places around the planet. Her presence went unnoticed for the moment... "I never thought the Mon Cals capable of this kind of madness! After we lived here for ten years, everything's breaking down now." - the wife muttered, eyes fixed on the news screen. "Fear controls them now... and fear is a powerful influence." - Deathstrike intoned from behind them. Her voice made the woman jump slightly, before she turned to look at Deathstrike, tensing visibly. "Guess you're right... but... how can just one incident cause something like... this?" - she muttered nervously, voice still uneasy, avoiding Deathstrike's eyes. Deathstrike sighed, then sat down in another chair in the room, before speaking. "You were afraid before, when me and my accomplice arrived, weren't you? And you still are, I can tell that much just by looking at you... but you try to control your fear. That's the difference between you and the Mon Cals. They have allowed fear to dominate them, and their actions now are just a telltale symptom of their weakness." "But you Sith were the ones who caused all this in the first place, when you attacked the New Republic garrison." - the man said, voice accusatory. "Perhaps we have... but I have to say I wasn't expecting such an extreme reaction from the Mon Cals!" - Deathstrike replied, before adding with a smile: "In any case, it's all beside the point! In several hours at most, this world shall belong to the RTSE. And the Mon Calamari will no longer have any means of terrorizing you, once the shift in power is complete." The man nodded, but remained unconvinced. "There's no telling how your invasion is going... there was nothing on the news." - he said. At that moment, the little boy left the room, to the room the Acolyte is still in, doubtless to ask him more questions about the Sith and the Force. Deathstrike noticed that. "Your son has become more than a little curious about us." - as the woman started in alarm, and began to call out: "Palen! Get back here..." - in a concerned voice, before the Acolyte's voice interrupted her. "Don't worry, he's fine right here... just wants to see a few more tricks I can show him! Right, kid?" "Yeah... I'm okay, mom!" - the boy's voice came back, before the door closed behind him. "But..." - the woman started, before Deathstrike jumped in with a grin: "He has been badgering us for some time with all kinds of questions about the Sith and the Force. I suppose you didn't know, since you were away for a few hours now..." The woman turned to her husband. "You knew about this?!" - she demanded. "I don't see the problem. They..." - the man began, before being interrupted. "They are Sith! They're killers! They could..." - the woman suddenly stopped, remembering that Deathstrike is in the room with them. Deathstrike remained silent for the moment, thinking: "I see it will take time for the prejudices to die..." - before speaking: "If you're concerned about your son, why don't you join him and my accomplice and see what's going on for yourself? We haven't done anything to hurt him. Or any of you, for that matter. I said before that you have nothing to fear from us. Did I give you any reason to doubt it?" "No... but I WILL see for myself what's going on." - the woman retorted, staring hard at Deathstrike, standing up and walking to the room where her son went. Deathstrike said nothing, only shifting slightly in her chair, thinking: The man shook his head slightly, before saying: "Palen was always a curious child... and never one to be afraid for long!" Deathstrike smiled at that, before responding: "That much is obvious... your son is certainly a headstrong and decisive type! Like his father..." - in a halfway-sultry tone, locking gazes with the man briefly. "Heh... well, when you've travelled around the galaxy for as long as I have, resettling on a new world every few years, you tend to become that way." - the man smiled back. Deathstrike could tell by the slightly too casual tone of his voice that he was hiding something, though. Deciding not to follow up on it at the moment, or to make a Force probe into his mind, she asked instead: "But there is more to your son than that. You know what I mean, right?" The man didn't answer immediately, before finally nodding, and answering with a rhetorical question. "I guess you sensed it, being a Sith?" "Yes... his potential in the Force is clear. I suppose one of his earlier ancestors was Force sensitive? Because I don't sense any such potential in you or your wife." - Deathstrike replied. The man hesitated, briefly debating whether or not to reveal that his grandfather was a Jedi, killed during the Clone Wars, but finally decided against revealing that to a Sith. Instead, he simply said: "I suppose so... I've heard that those things can run in a family, sometimes skipping a few generations." "Does he know?" - Deathstrike asked. "Not yet... I wasn't sure myself until just now, when you confirmed it. He had shown a lot of intuition over the years, and an uncanny knack for guessing what would happen. My wife just attributes that to luck. You may have noticed she doesn't think very highly of any Force users..." Deathstrike scowled slightly at that. "Oh, I've noticed... anyway, I'm surprised you didn't ask the Jedi to confirm it. They would have likey been eager to accept another... padawan... in their fold." - trying hard to hide her contempt while speaking the last sentence. "Another what?" - the man asked, confused. "That's the term they use for disciples... sounds stupid, doesn't it?" - Deathstrike answered, grinning. The man shrugged, before continuing: "I've considered it... but I thought it was still too early. And of course, my wife wouldn't even hear it!" "Smart choice... to keep his options open. If he were already inducted into the Jedi, he would have likely shared the fate of all the other younglings we slaughtered at the Maw installation two years ago. And the Jedi actually thought they could hide them from the Master... fools!" - Deathstrike thought, carefully suppressing a vicious smile, before answering: "Well, in any case, the Sith would welcome a disciple as worthy as your son. The galaxy's future lies with the RTSE, and he would be able to realize his full potential by learning from us." - in a warm, reassuring voice. "I'm not sure... from what I know of Sith values, and from what I've seen of your... appetite... for killing, I wouldn't want my son to become like that." - the man said in a cool voice, looking Deathstrike directly in the eye. Deathstrike considered her answer for a few moments, before responding: "One does what is necessary in war. My... appetite... has nothing to do with it." - she said, acutely aware just how far she was stretching the truth in that last sentence, while thinking: "Even if you're right... but then, enemies only exist to be slaughtered, or conquered!" - before adding: "Anyway, just something to think about... and if your son were to join the ranks of our disciples, I could sponsor him directly." "So I take it you hold a prominent position within the Sith?" - the man asked at that. Deathstrike smiled, standing up to walk out of the room. Just before exiting she turned, deciding not to reveal that she is Lord Darkon's apprentice just yet: "In a manner of speaking..." - she said softly, with a conspiratorial wink, before walking out of the room. ~~ Three hours into the battle of Mon Calamari... Unlike the takeover of the Raxus system, the RTSE invasion forces are meeting a stiff resistance. The combined New Republic/Mon Cal defence contingent, after the initial Sith success in making a push to the outer orbit of Mon Cal 4, has regrouped, reorganized, and established an efficient defence line, which Lord Darkon's forces have thus far been unable to penetrate. "Message from the Relja, my Lord - they have lost most of their support contingent, and the New Rep forces are starting to gain the upper hand in that quadrant!" - the Blood Sanctum's communications officer suddenly shouted from the port crew pit. Darkon's hands clenched briefly, but he forced a calm reply: "Put the Relja's captain through to my console, Lieutenant." "Yes, my Lord" - the officer replied, and a moment later, a face of a harried-looking female RTSE captain appeared, commanding the RTSE Relja Kurgarin Sith Destroyer, with the background of alarm klaxons and sparking conduits, evidence of heavy damage sustained. "Lord Darkon, we... we cannot hold on much longer here! Over 70% of the battlegroup has been destroyed, including the Jazor, our sister ship! We're facing two MC80's ourselves! Shields are down and the hull integrity had fallen to below 50%! We..." - as she is interrupted by Darkon: "ENOUGH! Your duty remains, no matter what the odds you face, Captain! Your duty is to the RTSE, and to me, and our cause! If you cannot prevail, you will take as many of them with you as possible! If their forces manage to gain the upper hand in your quadrant, it will force us to divide the main force, and lose the initiative as a whole. Am I understood?" - in a steely voice. "Yes, my Lord!" - the captain responded, saluting stiffly, but with renewed fire in her voice, before ending the transmission. "Lord, the Relja is maneuvering to a collision course with one of the MC80's!" - the sensor officer reported a few seconds later. Zavron came up beside Lord Darkon, and scowled at that: "They're still not that damaged to consider a suicide run... she is making a mistake!" - he muttered. However, Darkon smiled slightly, as he noticed the vector of the Relja's closure maneuver on the MC80... "It's a ruse, Admiral... she is trying to make the Republic captain flinch! At which point, the Relja will be in a position to maneuver behind them..." - when Zavron added: "... and deliver full broadside without them being able to respond!" - with a wicked smile. Darkon nodded, before saying: "That should allow them to dispose of one of the MC80's... that leaves the second one! Dispatch one Karas from our battlegroup to assist them." Zavron nodded, turning to the communications officer and issuing the order. Minutes later, the events transpired as Lord Darkon predicted, with the Relja destroying one of the MC80's attacking it, but the second one managed to finish the Kurgarin off, before the reinforcement Karas destroyed it. Still, the New Republic push was halted, and that quadrant of the battle remained inconclusive, as more Sith ships converged there to seal the hole. However, that left the central quadrant correspondingly weakened, with the support force around the Blood Sanctum reduced by approximately 40%. Now, the flagship and its remaining support of two Kurgarins, two heavily damaged Karas cruisers, and four Munjas, supported by a half-dozen surviving squadrons of Gavran fighters and Nosorog bombers, were facing the two heavily armed and armoured Golan III battle stations, each capable of holding off a small battlegroup on its own, three MC80's, and seven Escort Frigates, along with nearly three times as many fighters and bombers as the Sith had remaining. The Blood Sanctum shook hard, as a volley of proton torpedoes struck at the base of the bridge tower, ripping through weakened shields, and inflicting several hull breaches on the ridgeline. "Lord, we've lost the dorsal shield grid! Bridge deflectors compromised! Initiating containment procedure and sealing the breached decks... done! Crews are dispatched to reroute the damaged circuits." - the Engineering officer shouted, reading the report that appeared on his console, that also displayed the overall hull integrity of the Blood Sanctum, now reduced to 58%, and still dropping... "Squadrons 12 and 14, provide close point-defense of Sector 2 until we've stabilized the bridge deflectors!" - Zavron roared in the commlink, getting an acknowledgement, before Darkon spoke: "That will only delay the inevitable... we have underestimated their resolve! It is time to take this battle to a new level." - as he thought: "Those New Republic fighter/bombers are truly annoying! Like a swarm of insects that cannot be outdistanced or repelled... and dangerous insects, as well. And there are too many of them... as superior as our pilots are in skill, the numerical superiority of the enemy would eventually take its toll. Especially with insufficient Munjas to provide close point-support. But those Golans - their point defences are formidable! And as powerful as they are, they do not have a lot of crew aboard..." - before he added, into the commlink: "Lord Darkon to Hangar 11: Prepare a half-squadron of assault shuttles, and have them ready to launch in 15 minutes with a full boarding party in each. Two squads of RTSE troops and two Acolytes per shuttle. I will lead the assault on the first station myself! Hangar 21, you will prepare another six assault shuttles, with the same complement. We shall board both of the battlestations simultaneously." After a pair of acknowledgements from the respective hangar control offcers, Lord Darkon turned to Zavron. "Seizing those battlestations may be our only chance of retaining the upper hand in this struggle, Admiral. I am relying on you to maintain the battlefield situation while I am leading the assault! Do NOT fail me!" - he growled in a hard voice, fists clenched hard enough to draw blood from his palms. "Never, my Lord!" - Zavron snapped his fist to his chest, before intoning an ancient True Sith battlecry: "For Blood and Death!" - which Lord Darkon echoed, before departing the bridge. ~~ The outskirts of the Mon Cal capital, below the sea level... Coughing and retching, a lone human figure crawled its way out of the swirling water pouring from one of the former maintenance tunnels of the destroyed New Republic garrison. He had to lie for several minutes, spitting out the large amount of water, recovering, before he could stand. Dressed in the same dark outfit as the other surviving Acolyte who was with Deathstrike, Margos emerged from the remains of tunnel access, into a small alley. Losing his lightsaber during his near-hopeless ascent to the surface from the crumbling, sinking garrison, he was weaponless. Walking down the alley, he thought to himself: "Yes... I made it! You thought I'd die down there, when you locked down the outer sector, Deathstrike? Payback time... when I find you, anyway! But now..." - his thought is interrupted as a soft whine of an airborne security droid can be heard from the direction of the alley's exit. Margos quickly found cover behind some discarded metal crates, as the droid floated into the alley, accompanied by a pair of Mon Cal security officers. One studied a handheld scanner, before speaking to the other one: "The biosigns are still registering - human biosigns. Someone IS here..." - before the other one intoned loudly: "Civilian, you are in violation of the curefew. Show yourself and prepare to be detained!" - as both of them activate their electro stun-batons. The droid stopped in backstop position behind the security team. "Great... with a lightsaber, this would be over in less than 5 seconds! But without one, things are about to get... interesting. Good!" - Margos thought with a slight eager smile, stepping out from behind his cover into sight of the security team, empty hands held outwards. "Do not move, human!" - one of the team intoned, while they approached Margos, the other one pulling out some kind of manacles from a belt pouch. "Of course... I fully intend to cooperate, officer." - Margos replied, a slight tone of irreverence barely noticable below the smoothness of the sentence, as the team reached him, and he shifted his weight slightly on the back foot. "Silence, alien!" - the first Mon Cal snapped, activating his stun baton and thrusting it forward at Margos... at least the intention, as Margos twisted to the side, the sparking head of the baton passing beside his ribs, as he grabbed the officer's arm, spinning around full circle while holding it, forcing the Mon Cal down to his knees, while dislocating it backwards at the elbow with a clearly audible crack. The Mon Cal screamed in pain in his guttural tone, the other one dropping the manacles and activating his own stun baton, as the first officer's baton was suddenly in Margos's right hand. Margos thrust it into the second officer's stomach, at the same time as he swung his right leg over and around the neck of the first one, catching him in a tight neck squeeze with his knee, before twisting sharply, and breaking his neck. The Mon Cal plopped fully to the ground without a sound, as the second one screamed in pain from the stun baton's discharge. The security droid fired his mounted blaster - the bolt impacting into the back of the second Mon Cal, which Margos grabbed and held as a shield in the droid's line of fire, killing him, before Margos released the corpse, crouching to the side to avoid the second blast, while snapping his left arm out and discharging a Force Lightning burst at the droid. The electrical discharge briefly scrambled the machine, giving Margos time to close in and shove the baton into the droid's power array. The machine shuddered, sparks flying from its systems, before Margos ripped the mounted blaster off the chassis with brute strength, and sent another Lightning burst into the droid's circuitry. The combined discharge of the baton and Force Lightning overwhelmed the droid's surge suppressors, frying its power grid and depowering all its systems, sending it clattering down to the ground, disabled. "Hmm... exactly 11 seconds without a lightsaber. Nice..." - Margos mused to himself with a smile, moving out of the alley. "Still, it wouldn't hurt to find some place to lay low for now, since it looks like the planet didn't take well to the destruction of the New Rep garrison. Besides, who knows where Deathstrike is by now... if she were anywhere nearby, I would sense her. But I'll find her eventually..." ~~ Aboard one of the Golan III's in orbit... "All Sector 21 security teams, converge to protect the command deck! All Sector 21 security teams, converge to protect the command deck!" - an automated voice intoned over the station-wide channel of one of the New Republic Golan III platforms, the one Lord Darkon's team was invading. Taken by surprise, the NR personnel not expecting this tactics on the part of the RTSE, Darkon's advance squad penetrated deep into the station before the New Republic defenders knew what hit them. While he dispatched the rest of the assault force to secure the rest of the command deck, Lord Darkon proceeded alone to take the station's administrative center, kill its commander, and assume control. "We have seized the power station and main fire control, my lord!" - a Force message came to Darkon from one of the Acolytes on his team. "Excellent. Begin marking enemy vessels as primary and secondary targets. I am about to seize the command center." - Darkon replied, at the same time as his lightsaber blade found the torsos of three more New Republic troops, while four additional ones were being fried by Lightning. An entire squad of additional defenders came converging from an intersection up ahead, blaster rifles already targeting Lord Darkon. In mid-run, Darkon blocked all the incoming blasts, reflecting them to kill no less than five of the troopers, before dropping down into a roll, not surrendering his forward momentum, under the remaining shots, coming back up to his feet directly in front of one of the remaining troops, twisting aside to evade a point-blank shot while striking out with a piercing palm-strike to the man's ribcage, directly above the heart, compressing and destroying it, while he deflected another shot with his lightsaber in the other hand, killing the trooper who fired it. With a foot-to-foot midair traverse, he anticipated and evaded two more shots, the maneuver bringing him close to another two troops, the heel of his right foot catching one of them under the nose, driving it up into his brain, while his lightsaber decapitated the other. The last trooper panicked, turned, and began to run... managing to travel barely three meters before the thrown lightsaber skewered him in two. Recalling the blade, Darkon turned to the left at the intersection. After another fifty meters, he found himself in front of a massive blast door, a pair of turrets above it. After disposing of them with a sustained Lightning surge, he began cutting through the doors, while sensing a massive ambush beyond... and the command staff of the station. ~~ "Take positions! Start firing as soon as the doors are breached!" - the station commander ordered his contingent of troopers and security droids in the administrative center, noticing the blast doors beginning to glow red. He had three full squads of troops, backed by four heavily armoured MK Five war droids. With the frenzied battle visible through the viewports behind him, he felt confident that they could handle whatever Sith was about to break through. Except this one... Suddenly, the doors' mag-seal was broken, and the doors began sliding apart. Before the troops and the droids inside could even get off a single shot, a Force Destruction bolt came through the widening opening, striking directly into the power distribution array located at the center of the wide chamber, while killing the few troops directly in its path. The power distribution array exploded with a massive detonation and a blinding flash, killing any of the personnel in the vicinity, a full squad of troops, including the commander, and wrecking two of the droids, while disorienting most of the others. In the next two seconds, Lord Darkon was already inside the chamber, frying a handful more troops with sustained Force Lightning, before the rest finally opened fire - at an empty spot, Lord Darkon already midair in Force Jump, taking him to land behind the last two droids. As the tracking blaster fire from the troopers hammered the droids' armours, before they could adjust their aim, Darkon stabbed the tip of his lightsaber directly into the power cells of one of the droids, causing an overload, then quickly Force pushed the machine into one group of the troopers, before the powercells abruptly exploded, destroying the droid, and killing five more troops nearby. Decapitating the last droid with a precise lightsaber slash, Lord Darkon then focused on the remaining troops, 13 of them. Deflecting several more shots, killing three more, he suddenly leapt to the side, while throwing his saber forward at the troops. By the time he came back up to his feet behind cover of one of the pillars in the room, the thrown saber had dismembered four additional troops, guided by the Force, striking each in turn. Applying Force Speed, Darkon burst from his cover, simultaneously lifting his left hand to send another sustained Lightning burst at the remaining six troops, as their aim was still shifting to track him. By the time his lightsaber returned to his right hand, it was all over. "Fire control is under our control, and we've marked the priority targets, my Lord." - came from Lord Darkon's commlink. "Fire at will! All point-defense weapons, focus on the enemy fighters!" - Lord Darkon responded, before opening a channel with the other assault team, invading the second Golan: "Report! What's your status?" "The enemy has regrouped and they are holed up inside fire control and administration, with heavy defences! We can't storm them, and we're taking heavy losses!" - the Acolyte in charge of that mission came back in a harried voice, the sounds of blaster fire and lightsaber slashes clearly audible through the link. "We don't have TIME for this..." - Darkon thought, annoyed, as the sensor scope showed the New Republic fighters overwhelming the last of the RTSE fighters, and converging on the Blood Sanctum and the rest of his capital ships. "Just take over fire control. I will deal with their administration center!" - he finally growled. "But how..." - the Acolyte began, before Darkon harshly cut him off: "DON'T QUESTION ME!!! Take over their fire control and begin targeting their fighters first, then capital ships as secondary targets! Now! And withdraw all troops from the vicinity of Administration." "At once, my Lord!" - the Acolyte responded. Closing the link, Darkon opened the channel to the fire control of his co-opted Golan: "Heavy turbolaser batteries, target the second station's Administration deck. Immediately! Cease fire once that deck has been destroyed." "Yes, my lord." - came the response. A hail of heavy turbolaser fire began to pelt the second Golan's topside. Within a minute, the station's dorsal shield grid failed, and the Administrative deck began to take damage. However, the move did not pass unnoticed by the New Republic forces, who began to divide their attention, some of the fighters and capital ships diverting to attack the Golans, taking significant pressure off the besieged Sith fleet. "Administration destroyed, my Lord! Ceasing fire as instructed." - a report finally came back. "Excellent. Focus all firepower on New Republic assets!" - Lord Darkon ordered. "My lord, we've taken fire control! Beginning to mark New Republic assets... firing!" - a report came from the second assault team. Seconds later, the second Golan began to attack the New Republic forces as well. As Darkon watched in satisfaction, at the tide of the battle beginning to turn in his favour, a message came in from the Blood Sanctum: "My lord, I see that you were successful... and not a moment too soon!" - Zavron's voice remarked in unmistakable relief. "Status of my flagship, Admiral?" - Lord Darkon inquired. "We've taken significant damage, my lord. Shields are down on most facings, and engines half-disabled. Weapons are also compromised, but we can still fight! Hull integrity had fallen to 37%. However, we are regaining the initiative now that their attention is divided." "It won't last, Admiral... so make the most of it! I have little doubt the New Republic forces will try to retake their stations. Any NR assault shuttles that attempt to board either of the stations are to be destroyed with maximum dispatch! Am I understood? And even discounting them, the majority of the station's crew are still at large, and will likely try to sabotage us. I have ordered a lockdown of all critical systems to be initiated on both stations, but that will only delay them." - Darkon retorted. "Yes, my lord. I'm ordering the fleet to focus on destroying their capital ships, while your stations are distracting their fighters! We should be able to destroy enough of them in the time you have bought us." - Zavron assured him. "Be certain you do, Admiral... for there will not be a third chance for us in this battle. Of that, I have no doubt." - Darkon replied, closing the link, and focusing on the battle unfolding outside once again.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)